I have this old weathered treasure box that no one ever sees. It’s heavy and filled with many, many rocks; chunks of coal, pieces of concrete, river rocks, a few dirt clods and a bunch of sharp edged rocks that cut like glass. None of these are pretty or nice. They were just found along my journey and placed inside. There are however, a few brilliant, gems hiding in there. Sparkling and new or dusty from age they are beautiful. These are the most precious things I own. There are very few and so to me, they are even more valuable, to be guarded with my life. I don’t want to lose even one because it hurts in an indescribable way. I’ve lost some in the past and I can still see a little hollow spot where they used to sit when they were nestled and cozy in my treasures. On occasion I think I should throw away the sharp ones and the ugly ones but if I did how would I see the true brilliance of the gems I have left. I need to be reminded on occasion just how much they are worth.
Worth, it’s something that’s much tougher to define than the dictionary would lead you to believe. People are assigned worth every day. More often than not our worth is measured by the size of our bank account rather than the size of our heart. We get told day after day that we must make more, get more, have more, more, more in order to be worth anything. And we believe it, we accept that it’s true. I’ve been accepting these for so long that I’ve learned to believe it’s true. I beat myself to a pulpy mess when I don’t achieve some unattainable goal. I cry sometimes because I feel worthless when it’s a bunch of bull shit. I have so much. Worth is not dollars and cents, houses or cars. It’s family and friends that you care for and love. It’s being missed by a seven year old. It’s being thanked for something you did or said. It’s having friends visit from out of town and knowing they made time just for you. It’s realizing that even though he chose to walk away, you are still worthy of love. And isn’t that the ultimate prize? That feeling of fullness and warmth. My heart isn’t that pretty any more. It’s weathered and heavy and scarred from the years. Many times I have questioned its worth as others have said or done things to make me feel worth-less. But… not so. I can find my worth for myself. If I remember to look, to open the treasure box, I see that the gems inside are amazingly beautiful… even if only to me.
