Now that I have a J-O-B, and I am officially an adult, I decided to get a safety deposit box to store all those invaluables, like some jewelry and papers.
I went to the bank and signed up for a box. The bank teller and I went into the vault, and we both put our keys into the locks, and I pulled out the box. The teller escorted me to a private room, and I played with the contents, putting this in and taking this out.
And driving away from the bank, I thought it was so funny how much trouble it was: the vault, the locks, the security, the private room. We spend so much time and trouble to guard and protect things. Everything in my safety deposit box, it can't be worth more than a few thousand dollars.
Yet we are so utterly careless with our emotions. We hurt each other so recklessly without a passing thought. We guard things that can be replaced, but we don't protect the things that really matter.
And sometimes, I can see why, because if we could lock our hearts in little steel boxes, then how could we ever give our hearts to each other, share our joys and sorrows? I'm learning, slowly, that I have long locked away my heart, and I have kept it safe, but how can I share my heart if it's hidden away?