Monday, 1 March 2010

Mending broken hearts


I am busy for the past week working on a commission of ceramic hearts, dainty little pieces that are as fragile and breakable as the real thing. I am not sure whether this is extremely appropriate for me at present or whether it is so horribly inappropriate that it is beyond thinking about as I have been, of late, it feels , rather over occupied with damaged broken and slightly chipped hearts whose owners have been washed up at my door, or wail down the telephone in sobs, the flotsam and jetsam of stormy relationships, sudden squalls and all destroying tempests that have battered their fragile beings on the rough waters of the sea of love. ( So mills and Boon! ) Appropriate or not I am not in the mood for doves ,hearts and flowers which makes these pieces rather hard to finish, hence I am here blogging when I should be glazing instead. I may even stoop to putting the washing out soon , anything rather than paint another heart when my heart aint in it.
I am a dab hand at curing slightly bruised young heart mended easily with a hug and a large hot chocolate and a stirring lecture about there being plenty more fish in the sea. Even thoguh I may so myself I am also passibly succesful when it comes to a slightly more damaged one which has been subjected to far too many unkindly knocks for its age and is just getting back on its feet after a long struggle to mend and beat in hope again . But currently I am labouring over one so damaged that I really am not sure that there are enough pieces left intact or in fact whether there is enough vinegar and brown paper in the world to mend it. An old heart past its first bloom which I know over the years has rallied against all odds to crest each wave of betrayal and upset only to find now like a long distance swimmer it isn't sure it has the energy to go forwards and is in fact just treading water and bowing to the inevitable that this time if theie marraige goes under they may well not come up again. That is perhaps the hardest of all to fix. How after all those years does its owner decide enough is enough ? When do they draw the line and say they are worth more than that and that being alone may perhaps be better than loneliness within a relationship where they feel unloved. Who am I to say? Faced with that what advise can I give ? So I say nothing but carry on nodding giving tissues and looking as if I understand their pain, which I do more than they imagine.
I would not have said that I am the most kindly and gentle of women and yet I am the one to whom friends come to in tears or anger, to complain, to seek sympathy and a hug, the one who will soothe and pour balm on wounds, whose advise friends seek in the matter of vile wandering husbands and unruly lovers. As such I am their the port in the storm, the firm rock on which to lean whilst they get they breath, and in a bizzarre way it is quite satisfying feeling one has helped soothe a pain, redress a balance ,when I see them go away with a bit more spring in their step and sparkle in their eyes, a bit more confidence in themselves and the fac that they are loveable. But just as you expect your doctor to at least pretend always be healthy and not tell you about his bunions or constipation so I am barred by definition of that role from ever admitting that at times I too might need a bit of the same. So whilst I phone to check on progress, sigh in sympathy, pat hands and boil the kettle for all they know my own heart might well be ,slowly, bit by bit ,falling apart too . Would they notice? I suspect not, meanwhile like the priest in the confessional I take all on board and listen unjudgmental to the tales of " It just happened it didn't mean anything etc etc" and am sworn to keep my secrets.
Ah well back to the hearts, spring is ,as they say in the air and I can only hope that hearts and that the young and not so young men who at this season traditionally turn to love do so with some prior thought to their actions and the consequences thereof and realise that some of them are at least old enough to know better. I have enough on my plate thank you very much.

10 comments:

Elizabethd said...

Well , you are just the sort of person to whom people can come with their troubles. At the end of the day you know that you cant change anything, advice is a no-no, but the ability to listen is rare.
Keep passing the tissues.

Fennie said...

What comes to mind in reading this is that you might (just possibly) consider painting a few of the hearts green. It's a soothing colour and embodies hope as in that lovely phrase which, I think, comes at the end of that very much overquoted (but none the least lovely) piece so fond of tea-towel designers: Desiderata. ....'neither be cynical about love for it is as perennial as the grass.' Whenever I see weeds erupting from the most inhospitable ground, green shoots among the dried up rocks on on the crevices of walls, I think of that.
Persistence, perennial, invasive even....

Pondside said...

Along with tea and empathy I'd imagine you dispense good, sound advice too. Your writing, even the fantasy, has always had a hint of pragmatism...no wonder they bring you their broken hearts!
Good luck with the ones you're making!

Preseli Mags said...

What beautiful and thoughtful blog. Good luck with all the hearts - ceramic and otherwise - I hope they all remain intact or at the very least not beyond repair.

eleanor's byre said...

I hope your heart is okay, too.

Frances said...

This other side of you is a side that many know and value.

One of my oldest friends, with whom I have traded all sorts of confidences over the years, always maintains that when folks talk to you, and seem to seek advice, often they truly just want a trusted ear. They do not want advice. They may eventually figure a way to look at what they face.

I can well imagine why many would turn to you. As eb hath wrote, I also do wish your heart well. xo

lampworkbeader said...

I strolled back to your blog quite by chance and am so sorry to hear about all those poor broken hearts. Love to you,
Lampie

Friko said...

what people in such situations really want is a sympathetic ear. Advice is rarely wanted and never followed, unless the advice is what the heartbroken one has already decided they want for themselves.

I seem to have this reputation for being a receptacle of confidences too, mainly because I say little and what I say is usually totally common-sensical. I am much more a friendly sounding-board than a disher out of advice.

I know what you mean about not really being in a position to reciprocate and bend someone else's ear. If I can't sort myself out I go to a professional, at least they remain impartial.

Grouse said...

Makes little difference to me, Darling....Spring? Living here in my high-walled garden in the city you could tell me WW3 had errupted and I wouldnt know. Actually, I lie. There is frogspawn in the pond. No frogfest....not a single croak. But..OK...robins and blackbirds nesting in the ivy...

Billy said...

I was looking for Advise on breaking up and found this great site www.saveabreakup.com I gotta admit its great and it worked for me and helped me a lot.