There's a big pile of bills and receipts and expired Christmas coupons and catalogs stacked neatly at one of my couch. Before that, it was stacked neatly on my desk, tucked between my laptops, the perfect resting place for giant gravity-defying coffee mugs. I moved it a few days ago (OK, a week) to ensure that I'd sort through it all, patiently pay the bills, file the paperwork, sort the faded receipts. Instead, I just try not to look to the right while I'm watching some terrible reality show I really should be distracted from (why, "Project All-Stars, why?). I want nothing to do with that pile. At least for another day or two.
I don't want to deal with any of it except for one little slip of paper that flitted out as I pushed it into the snug corner of chenille cushions (alright, dropped).
It was a page torn from some tiny notebook, likely stamped with the logo of a company I don't support with my dollars or taste buds or status updates that was procured as swag from a blog event.
The paper is so thin it's see-through, and it fell through the air gracefully, slowly, landing right at my thigh.
I could see only that there was a pencil mark on it. And since I save those little notebooks for my boy to draw on when he's bored in restaurants or on airplanes, I knew it had to be a message from him.
What I expected was a zombie with X-eyes or some character named Underwear Man or similar. But there were no brains oozing or tiny boxer briefs or disgusting references.
There was just a heart. Off-center at the bottom of the page. Folds creased just at the edges of each irregular arc.
I vaguely remembered it but haven't yet placed where it came from or when he drew it for me. As a farewell note before I left for a trip? To match the notes I place in his lunch every day? As a tiny surprise one morning while we rushed out the door? I'm not sure. But this heart, in all it's flimsy folds and lopsidedness reached me just at the right time.
This reminder that, even buried in the things we are not yet ready to face, our obligations and our discontent, there is love to be seen and caught might just be the very best reason to never get too organized.
Join me in my quest to see love in small places! Where have you found your heart?
I've spied it in the ocean.