Weeble-wobble

I was sitting here, writing some sad-sack entry about my heart and how men don't cry and blah blah blah.

But I'm not feeling that.

I don't have what I want. My heart does long for the love of another, yes.

Still.

I feel as good as I have ever felt. Because I can give a woman the nourishing spirit of my soul. Anytime this week I have consciously tried to be less than that, I always come back to the nourishment I have inside.

Like one of those Weebles, those egg-shaped toys that you pushed and pushed, and dropped onto the floor as a kid, and they always returned to center. (Weebles wobble but won't fall down.)

I return to center. My center is my heart.

My heart is as unfettered as it has ever been. As I've said, it is the most precious thing I have. I can't give a woman anything more precious than that.

Namaste