Stephen King

The Most Important Things

/ Cheryl / Leave a comment

The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.

“The Body” from Different Seasons by Stephen King

If this is the first time you have read this passage, or even if it is not, go back and read it again before you hear my thoughts.

I have often said that time is the most precious gift we can give because this is what I have believed. I still do believe shared time is a valuable gift — whether the time is shared with someone or on behalf of someone. Having read this passage many times over the past almost six months and having experienced some of the picture they paint in my mind and heart, I wonder if  these ‘things’, these landmarks to the treasure kept in our secret heart, are more even precious than time. The thing is, time — unhurried time — is fundamental to sharing these things. When shared with the right person, enveloped in the presence of deep trust, even finding the right words for the most tender thoughts is not absolutely necessary because they see and hear beyond the words to the real essence.

Sometimes these most important things are shared without any words at all but through the eyes and through touch. Just one of the great beauties of eyes is how directly and how poignantly they can express our very deepest thoughts and feelings to another’s eyes in the span of a moment. Eyes locked open even the deepest treasures. Beautiful even if surprising at times.

A gift is not a gift until it is given and received. Treasure is not really treasure as long as it stays hidden, only when shared.

 

 

Houses in Your Heart

/ Cheryl / Leave a comment

“Maybe there aren’t any such things as good friends or bad friends – maybe there are just friends, people who stand by you when you’re hurt and who help you feel not so lonely. Maybe they’re always worth being scared for, and hoping for, and living for. Maybe worth dying for too, if that’s what has to be. No good friends. No bad friends. Only people you want, need to be with; people who build their houses in your heart.”

~ It by Stephen King

I have never read a novel or short story by Stephen King. Ever. It is unlikely that I ever will because that level of horror and darkness would trigger my imagination in unpleasant ways (understatement). That said, he has imbedded within his writing truths that I find beautiful. I am thankful for a friend who shares these gems with me including this one. I did find a synopsis of the novel so that I could understand the context of this quote, at least a bit. No, I will never read the full book. Ever.

At different points in my life, I have thought about what friendship is, about what a friend is – and what a friend is not. This image of “people who build their houses in your heart” is beautiful to me. So, I am imagining what kinds of houses these might be because not all friendships are the same. In my own life, there are some who because of life pathways have merely pitched a tent in my heart for a time. A few of these friends have left an imprint on my heart that will forever be part of who I am. A piece of the tent will always be with me. I am pretty sure we all have had a few tents pitched in their hearts.

Others build more permanent structures, cabins perhaps [I really like cabins], but may merge into and out of our day-to-day lives. These are the friends whom we might not see for a year or more yet that lapse in time does not diminish the bond whatsoever. I am thinking of the cabins that surround many of Michigan’s lakes, cabins I visited as a child. They sit empty for much of the year, but are opened up to life and laughter and shared moments every summer.

Other people have real and permanent homes with solid foundations in our hearts – cozy houses with fireplaces and comfy chairs, yards and trees and flowers, with back doors we know are always open for us. We may or may not see these friends everyday, but we know they are always there, and they know we are always there too.

For any of these houses to be built in our hearts, we must have our hearts open. Many of us go through seasons when we want to put up a “No Lots Available” sign, and we can do this on our faces without realizing it. In opening our hearts to people, to friendship, there is a vulnerability that can be scary, especially when we have been hurt. It can also be deeply humbling when we find a person’s house just seems to appear without warning, a house and a friend we cannot imagine was ever not in the neighborhood of our heart.