Some days I can start out with a clear and brilliantly lit center of the heart.
Today, I cannot find it, coax it out, uncover it, exhume it, pry my way into it, or even blow it up. I am feeling angry now. I am not sure how to feel my way through the hard place to the gracious place. Help!
After thinking to myself, “Oh, this rings familiar” I stop…,and drop in…
I am surprised to feel an adrenaline rush in the center of my chest. I recognize it as rooted in a feeling of fear and urgency. My heart beats strongly and loudly. I breathe. I sense a thick protective plate over my heart space, armor like, it is an inch thick and feels glued in place, or built in. I surface my curiosity, and breathe. I first feel a question of “what if?” but quickly sense underneath it a strong set of “shoulds”
The heartbeat pace and the protective plate remain for a couple minutes. This too surprises me. I turn my full attention to my heart space, and I breathe slowly. Feeling a need to regulate I open my eyes and see a quilt on the wall made as an appreciation and farewell gift from a community I had served for many years. It depicts aspects of our time together and is surrounded by signatures – all of it a tremendous expression of love. My heart begins to quiet, though not completely. I decided to be with the feelings and the moment, dropped in as completely as I am able…
Now later, as I reflect:
I had shared with my congregation just this past Sunday the challenge I have been feeling in offering spiritual leadership in a time when so much at the surface has been shifting in our culture. The deep spiritual truths are timeless and yet they manifest in this time and place anew. Spiritually and emotionally I am yet in the midst of re-calibrating – looking for that “clear and brilliantly lit center of the heart.” The icon that spins on a computer screen while internal work proceeds out of sight came to mind. The perfectionist in me wants to get everything right and right away. Being an introvert in a public role heightens the pressure. More deeply, a wounded child deep in me wants to know that I am doing enough and doing well enough, wants to know, at root, that he – I – am loved.
Thank you for this entry point!
Healing for me to see your response to lack of access to your heart’s truth, as I know this frustration well. A sigh comes. A longing for consistency of heart-centeredness. But then…what fun would life be, there would be no journey. When I sit with the frustration, I feel that longing, and fear too. A frightened child. Compassion arises. I understand why this child feels afraid…of course, of course it is scary not to be connected to that fountain of love and openness. My child feels validated and held, although she still feels the fear.