Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the weakest of them all?

The strongest is.

Animals of the wild appear stronger than their domesticated counterparts.  But in fact, they have higher mortality rates.  What is unguarded is naturally prone to attack. Even if you call dibs on the title of king, you are not impervious to nature and its rage.

A heart has to be tamed for its own sake.  If you let it go wild, it might end up broken – for all the wrong reasons, at such an unripe season.  Sometimes, the heart speaks a different language than one’s logic.  And sometimes, it is truly liberating.  But other times, it is unrepresentative of one’s identity.

A heart has to be tamed by its owner before it is won by another.  If it remains the savage catalyst that it is, it will throb more painfully when its captor fails.

A heart longs the chase and if it is strong enough, holds back for a moment before giving in to the pursuit. It does yield to the truly deserving.  If the runner succumbs to another, the heart does not crumble.  It knows its worth.  If the chaser surrenders to frivolity, then it is deserving not.

The heart is easily deceived – no matter the personal fortification.  Its weakness can lie in its strength. It trusts, it opens up, it responds.  And when it finds itself a victim of an illusory feat, it looks towards several options.  Almost automatically it is built up.  Almost automatically also, it grieves.  But unsurprisingly, it self-administers anesthesia.  The pain-averse does not want to feel any more of the throbbing and aching.  For this to happen, it needs to shut off completely.  In effect, it deflects all the other feelings in the process – even those of genuine joy and pleasure. The bare heart, on the other hand, will accept anything that can fill the void.  It will take whatever is handed over – even the shallowness and counterfeit.  In the process, it becomes prostituted. Of course, this is not universal and may just be an arbitrary observation.

If a heart chooses to keep its peace, it seeks maturity.  It could choose to give itself away, but when it holds back, it thinks forward – to its benefit and the other’s.  It could try to catch attention, but if it chooses to look away, it applies wisdom.  It could choose to urge the physical to speak the sentiments and emotions, but if it can contain it and inhibits itself, it gives much discretion to the will, in fact a greater will than its spirit. It knows it is not its duty to do so yet. Maybe then, it has found a permanent place to rest.  Maybe then, it is tamed.  And maybe then, it is ready.

It could show you, but it will not.  Not the tamed one, not unless it is captured. The irony of it all.