The thing about trying to find someone a birthday present is that, sometimes, you can’t quite find it. You spend your time looking here and there, exploring every possible avenue, and yet there’s not quite the right thing you’d want. Eventually, especially with familY, there comes a time when the physical gift itself, whatever it is, isn’t the point. It is an artifact, a talisman, a bit of material which stands in for what otherwise cannot be touched by one’s hands or seen with one’s eyes. It is not the gift that tugs upon the heartstrings, but rather it is the emotions that the gift brings up when it is seen: the connection between souls, ones that care, deeply, about each other; the need to share, whether in moments of sadness or joy—the moment is what matters, after all.
One’s soul expresses what is within one’s heart. One’s heart is a reflection of another’s soul. Both, in many ways, wonder how it is that they came together, to find each other among this enormous thing called the Universe.
Sometimes that question cannot be answered, but, in time, the question fades away, to be overcome by the knowledge that it did happen … and it’s the most sure proof that Goddess exists, if not proof that she is fully capable of pulling some strings if needed. For even heartstrings are part of her domain and the plucking and playing of them brings about some of the most divine light there can be.
Her light is made of strings. They shimmer with her love in all of the forms she gives for it to be. Those few fortunate strings which are given to be the heartstrings of those that carry her light are the most precious of all. In some—a very special few—the strings vibrate with joy, the joy of being able to guide other souls to find their own heartstrings; the thrumming of the beats of their hearts physical, but also the beat of their strings immortal; the opportunity to give, within the strings of one’s own heart, the means to see; to see, truly, that the heartstrings are not isolated within oneself, but connect, each one to many others. These are little tendrils, some strong, some perhaps not so much so, but still there, connecting each soul to another, and another, and another still before they all, by one singular thread, connect to Goddess herself. It is the purpose of some, those that Goddess has seen and knows, to touch the string from Goddess in others, to remind them. To bring to their attention that, yes, she is there, listening, knowing and, for always, accepting.
Thus, the story comes to the soul known as the Queen’s heart. The story comes to the one he calls his Dear One. The gift they share of having their heartstrings connected through each other to Goddess and through her to each other. Somehow one knows what the other is thinking. Somehow the other can, more times than either can really know, expect the words that will appear before the other can utter them.
The gift, in truth, is the one that Goddess gave to them both—not one of material things, for that isn’t how heartstrings are connected. Goddess gave the gift of simply … being, the gift of that thought each carries of the other through their day, the gift of holding one another in their hopes, their love. Goddess gave the gift of family: families joined as one, lives connected from afar and yet feeling as if their homes were separated by nothing more than a simple white picket fence. Goddess gave the gift of sharing time at that fence, telling of their days, their moments, the things needing to be said and yet, at the same time, not needing to be said, for one simple reason. Through the smiles shared, the tears, too, again and again the reason is there, the heartstrings in tune with each other, the telling thrum of Goddess’ light within.
The gift, on this day, is of the past, of the future to be, of being able to say, “Hello, my heart,” and to have the words, “Hello, Dear One,” be returned as the gift they are for always.
For this is the gift of heartstrings, binding one to another, for always and everywhere, a gift neither purchased, which both receive, a gift like no other can be.