Sacred Conversation with Your Heart – #5

Apr 28, 2017 | My sort-of Sermons, Spirituality, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom, Writing

We’re moving toward the end of this 6-part series. I am hopeful it has done your heart good – especially given that it’s all about your good and to-be-trusted heart! If you’ve not read the earlier entries, they all build upon each other. I hope you’ll take the time to catch up. 

  1. Introductions 
  2. Tentative Listening 
  3. Hearing Deeper Truths 
  4. Speaking Deeper Truths 

Today, drum roll please… 

PART FIVE – LOVING THE DIALOGUE 

Once we have become familiar with the language of our heart, the ways in which it speaks to us, the ways in which we learn to listen, AND the ways in which we learn to speak, dialogue is a daily gift. 

Think about the experience of having friends with whom you can pick up conversation and relationship exactly where you left off. No matter the miles or even years between; it’s as though no time or distance has passed. There is an intimacy, a knowing, a familiarity and trust – like synchronized heartbeats. 

The same can be / is true about conversation with your heart: ongoing, meaningful, spontaneous, eortless, and continuous. 

I know a woman who has created a daily ritual of letting her heart speak to her. She carves out time each morning to sit and listen – expecting to hear. She writes down all that her heart chooses to say, trusting its wisdom, its deeper truth, its insight, its value. In so doing, she hears what her heart wants her to speak and do. And then she responds! She articulates (to her heart) all of her fears, her hopes, her desires. Back and forth this dialogue goes. She has learned to trust this process, to be sure; more to love it! Her heart readily responds. 

You can do the same, of course – creating ways to allow and encourage these conversations with your heart, learning to love the dialogue between you – and you! 

And when natural lulls occur, when you struggle to hear – or feel heard, just like in any relationship, you can trust the bonds already formed. You return. You stay. You wait. You hope. And throughout, more certain and sure than ever before, your heart keeps beating, speaking, calling. 

Loving the dialogue with your heart keeps you centered, grounded, and in touch with your most honest, brave, and true self. That dialogue and that relationship fuels and invites a passionate, full-of-heart life! 

May it be so! 

REFLECT 

  • Try the exercise above. Carve out time to listen to your heart – with the full expectation that it will respond. And, as in any good dialogue, respond back. 
  • Consider using two different color pens (or fonts, if typing). Let your heart speak – freely, candidly, spontaneously. Change colors and write out your response. (Remember: no holding back.) Switch colors again, and let your heart speak to what it hears, in response to your response. This is dialogue at its best. And the more of it you do (just like in any relationship) the stronger your bond, your intimacy, your (self) love. 
  • I do this often in my own journaling practice – especially when I’m struggling with myself, something, or someone. I write out how I’m feeling – no matter how cranky or negative or despairing. And then I listen/imagine my heart’s voice in response. I write out exactly what it has to say to me, no matter how hard it sometimes is to hear, allow, even believe at times. It always speaks (like any good friend would). And seeing its “voice” on the page in front of me, gives me opportunity to respond more deeply, more honestly, and almost always with far more tenderness, softness, and vulnerability. Oh, what a difference this has made for me over the years…hearing that wiser, truer, sage-of-a-voice within; learning to love the dialogue with my heart…my very self. May it be so for you, as well.

Sacred Conversation with Your Heart – #4

Apr 27, 2017 | My sort-of Sermons, Spirituality, Women's Wisdom, Writing

PART FOUR – SPEAKING DEEPER TRUTHS  

Conversation, of course, is more than just listening. At its best, it is filled with call-and response, back-and-forth, give-and-take. The same is true when we engage in conversation with our heart. 

Not one-sided, our heart wants more than just our listening ear, it waits (and waits and waits) to hear our voice. 

When I began to listen tentatively and then far deeper, I somehow knew everything was going to change. My heart knew it too – and far before my conscious mind. All my conscious mind could know, it seemed, was fear! To move from the seeming-safety of an endless internal dialogue into a vocalized external reality explains why I stayed quiet for a very long time. 

But not forever.

It was the ongoing (sacred) conversation with my heart that gave me the courage to finally speak – out loud. 

Speaking deeper truths is not easy; but it matters – more than anything else. 

You can trust the conversation you’ve had with your heart – that quiet, safe, and sacred space. Now, stepping beyond your inner world and into your external one, you can also trust that nothing you have heard, nothing you have discovered, nothing you have finally acknowledged and allowed will lead you astray. 

What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? The world would split open. ~ Muriel Rukeyser 

Choosing to speak deeper truths, to live out-loud, to articulate your desires, hopes, honest emotions, and beliefs is a powerful, world-splitting way to live. 

World-splitting yes, but not world-destroying. Not even heart-stopping (though at times, it may feel otherwise). Your wise and brave heart will keep beating, speaking, guiding, loving. That’s what hearts do. Yours is no exception. So speak. And live. Out-loud. 

REFLECT: 

  • Are you aware of the places in which you remain silent? With whom? 
  • “All her life she has been in love with the hope of telling utter truth.” These words were spoken about the poet, Adrienne Rich. They also speak to what your heart hopes on your behalf. Do you know this to be true about yourself? What if it was? If you spoke that utter truth, what would you say? 
  • What worlds might split open if you began to live (and speak) your heart-conversation out loud? 

Mmmmmm. May it be so.

*****

This is Part 4 in a 5-Part series. If you’ve missed any, you can find #1 here, #2 here, and #3 here. 

Sacred Conversation with Your Heart – #3

Apr 26, 2017 | My sort-of Sermons, Spirituality, Women's Wisdom, Writing

PART THREE – HEARING DEEPER TRUTHS 

My heart does not steer me wrong. It may speak to me of things I’m not yet ready to hear, acknowledge, or accept; but its wisdom remains solid, faithful, and true. (Much like the heartbeat itself…) 

It took me a long time to hear this voice within, to acknowledge it as my heart, to trust it—and even longer to follow it. I knew that if/when I did, change would come: relationships would shift, plans would alter, pre-determined paths would be abandoned.

This may not be your heart’s deeper truth, it’s unique conversation with you; but it was mine. When I learned and was willing to listen to it, my heart told me of my deeper truths; realities I ached for – and the ones for which I’d been too afraid to hope.

Deeper truths are unsettling and stunningly beautiful. They are the stuff of legend, of passion, of dreams fullled, of courage, of faith. But they rarely come without cost, without bloodshed, without tears. Ours. Others’. 

We already know this intuitively and, of course, it causes us to shrink back. 

Our gracious heart knows-knows-knows this, as well – that we are hesitant, fearful, and resistant to hear-and-trust-and-follow what we know lies within. And still, that same gracious heart keeps beating. It calls to us in rhythmic, endless ways. A beckoning, a nudge, a gentle reminder, an emotion that catches us off guard, a piece of music, a memory—all vulnerable (and deep-truth) expressions of the heart’s longing to be heard. 

If you will but trust it, your heart will oer up deep, deep truth that can’t not be heard and honored; that can change everything.  

Deeper truths are there, waiting. Oh, the courage it takes to believe them… 

REFLECT: 

But you can’t get to any of these truths by sitting in a field smiling beautifically, avoiding your anger and damage and grief. Your anger and damage and grief are the way to the truth. We don’t have much truth to express unless we have gone into those rooms and closets and woods and abysses that we were told not to go in to. When we have gone in and looked around for a long while, just breathing and finally taking it in – then we will be able to speak in our own voice and to stay in the present moment. And that moment is home. ~ Anne Lamott 

  • “Deeper truths are unsettling and stunningly beautiful.” Can you name the “rooms, closets, woods, and abysses” to which your heart invites you; the deeper, darker places that call to you? And will you stay? When you do, even for moments, can you recognize and acknowledge even the smallest part of you that feels like you’ve finally come home? 
  • As you listen to what emerges in this deepest-truth conversation with your heart, this know-that-you-know-that-you-know voice within, can you feel and name the emotions that lie just under the surface and the ones that emerge? They all deserve and desire to be heard – as do you.
  • If you truly believed that your heart would not steer you wrong, what would you do? What would you say? And what might that cost? (You already know, don’t you? That is your deeper truth. Beat-beat. Beat-beat. Beat-beat.) 

*****

If you missed the first two posts you can find them here and here.

Sacred Conversation with Your Heart – #2

Apr 25, 2017 | My sort-of Sermons, Spirituality, Women's Wisdom, Writing

Today features Part 2 in a 6-part series that’s all about Sacred Conversation – not with me, but with your heart. You can read Part 1 here. Each post offers a new aspect of the topic, the practice, and its signicance. and concludes with reflection questions and prompts to invite you into the most important (and ongoing) conversation you’ll ever have. Truly. 

*****

PART TWO – TENTATIVE LISTENING 

When I first began to consider it, the idea of listening to my heart scared me to death. Because deep inside, I already knew what I would hear. If I listened for long, I’d actually have to do something about the things my heart was trying to tell me. It was far easier to stop listening—or do so only half heartedly. 

Most of us have been discouraged from listening to our hearts. We’ve been told they can’t be trusted; that objective, reason-based mental processes are far more reliable. Understandably then, when our heart invites us, again and again, to an inner, subjective, emotion-based conversation, we convince ourselves that our head knows better. 

But your heart waits patiently because it knows that it knows better. And so, tentative listening is a very good place to start.

When you begin, you can expect to be confronted by thoughts and emotions that feel contrary to your existing circumstances, relationships, or responsibilities; things you may expend a lot of effort to not think about or feel. Not surprisingly, you are then far less-than inclined to quickly embrace and inculcate everything you hear. You hold back. You test the waters. You wait. You listen some more. Just like conversation with another person, yes? You make sure you can trust the source before you slowly, cautiously turn toward the whispering within; that still, small voice. 

Spoiler alert: you can trust the source; you can trust your heart. 

Yes, tentative listening is a very good place to start. Then, when you’re ready, ask yourself, “What if I listened fully instead of tentatively?” 

What if, indeed… 

REFLECT: 

  • What are the challenges you face in being able to hear your heart? Focus? Technique? Noise? Or is it the fear/awareness of what you might actually hear? 
  • Try tentative listening. Give kind, gentle attention to what comes up that feels opposed to your objective, reason-based mental processes. Can you kindly, gently allow the subjective, emotion-based thoughts to come to mind…to heart? 
  • Even if you listen half-heartedly, only a little, and maybe with great hesitation, what whispers do you hear? Every glimmer, fleeting thought, blurry image, and pang of emotion matters. Your heart is speaking. Can you hear it beating? What does it tell you? Keep listening. And write. Anything, everything…gently, gently. 

Pssssst. You can trust what you hear.

Sacred Conversation with Your Heart – #1

Apr 24, 2017 | My sort-of Sermons, Spirituality, Women's Wisdom, Writing

Today starts a 6-part series that’s all about Sacred Conversation – not with me, but with your heart. Each post will offer another aspect of the topic, the practice, and its significance – along with reflection questions and prompts to invite you into the most important (and ongoing) conversation you’ll ever have. 

*****

We are surrounded by conversation all day, every day – at the very least, words and talk and verbal noise. At home and work, in the car and on the bus, in stores and on streets, on the web – on TV – in music – on blogs – in books, in neighborhoods and across the globe. Sometimes we engage. Sometimes we listen. Other times it’s just din. 

And then there are the conversations that take place endlessly, continuously within. In my experience they can be far harder to engage and sometimes seemingly impossible to hear. And – they long for both: your hearing, your engagement, your response. These are conversations with your heart. 

Did you know? Your heart speaks. It listens. It asks. It tells. It knows. It feels. It advises. It desires. It hurts. It hopes. It loves. 

Your heart invites you to ongoing, articulate, and beautiful sacred conversations with your deepest, truest self. 

And these are conversations worth having. 

So…let’s begin at the beginning. 

*****

PART ONE – INTRODUCTIONS 

Every conversation between two people begins with some kind of introduction, a greeting, a hello. For it to move past this point and take on meaning and value, we must want to hear more, want to know more; we  have to determine how the  other wants to be known, how much they are willing to share, how they speak, even  what they don’t say. If either party is reluctant to listen, to hear, to understand, to learn, the conversation ends before it’s even begun. 

Conversation with your heart is no different. 

Do you want to hear what your heart has to say? Do you want to know it well? Do you want to learn the unique ways in which it expresses itself? 

I’m speaking only for myself when I say that sometimes my answer is “no.” 

Sometimes it can be far easier to turn up the volume on other aspects of life than to listen to the heart’s quiet whisper, deep desires, and patient but persistent beating as it waits (and waits and waits) to be heard, acknowledged, trusted, and followed. 

Because here’s the thing: When you really listen and engage in conversation with your heart you find yourself face-to-face with powerful truth: words, sentences, and emotions that graciously ask for response and ongoing dialogue; powerful truth that compels honesty, risk, and change, that will not leave you unchanged. 

Knowing this, tell me true: Do you want to hear what your heart has to say – directly to you? I hope the answer is “yes.” 

REFLECT:

  • Imagine listening to your heart’s introduction of itself when you say, “hello.” How does it respond? Is it outgoing? Shy? Reticent? Enthusiastic? What can you learn of it already… even in these first few words? 
  • If, even for a moment, you could silence all the voices, pressures, demands, disappointments, and expectations that swirl within, what do you imagine you might hear – even in this introductory stage? Single words? Fragments of sentences? Any images that come to mind? 
  • Listen. What does your heart want you to know, to hear, to consider? Write any and everything that comes… 

Why Stories Matter

Dec 16, 2016 | Sacred Stories, Spirituality, Writing

We live in a world of stories. Childhood fairytales shape our dreams and hopes. Family legends, imparted over kitchen table conversation, at reunions, and during road-trips, build our memory and craft our beliefs. Historical narratives inform our understanding of culture, politics, our larger world. Film, music, literature, and poetry mysteriously and continuously
speak to our deepest heart – communicating truths we implicitly know and others we long to grasp. And then there is the media…

Stories serve the way in which we are able to make sense of our world, our relationships, our behaviors, everything. They are how we speak of our circumstances, our deepest emotions, and our biggest questions; how we create and apply meaning. And they connect us to one another, bridging differences in language and perspective, time and place, past and future.

Most of us acknowledge that it’s less about a particular story and more about story, itself. It is the device, the vehicle, the means through which we express, listen, and even participate in our own life and others’. We admit (and even enjoy) that most stories, when told over and over again, not only shift and morph over time, but take on a life of their own.

The fish gets a little bigger, the storm gets a little wilder, the love gets a little stronger, our bravery or disappointment gets a little exaggerated in the telling over time. There is creative tension in story. When we hear it, when we read it, when we speak it, when we write it, we filter words through our own experiences and our need for meaning. We shape the tale to reinforce our understanding of how life is. ~ Christina Baldwin

This is what we love about them. This is why we tell them. This is why we live our lives within them. This is the power of story.

But when it comes to the stories in Scripture, something implicitly and explicitly changes.

Our claws come out and our defenses go up. Or maybe we just shut down. Though told for thousands of years, these particular tales have taken on a life that is not their own. Instead, they have been claimed and co-opted, parsed and paraphrased, interpreted and indoctrinated. Now, seen as either sacrosanct and inviolable or completely irrelevant, it’s no wonder we struggle to hear or tell these powerful narratives in beautiful, meaningful, and truth-filled ways.

Frankly, it is this very tension that keeps me connected to them, working with them, and yes, telling them. Believe me, I feel the pull every single day: the embedded and assumed doctrine that permeates their pages and the deep, rich, yet-to-be-mined wisdom within; the patriarchal God I seek to escape and the shockingly kind, compassionate, and feminine one who pursues me. Further, I am not willing to let our collective seen and felt tension, our theological arguments, our political agendas, our denominational differences, or even our general ambivalence allow us to drift and fall apart when I know that stories (even these stories) are what bring and hold us together. More than all else, I cannot bear to let the stories I love, stories of women, drift and fall away. To even contemplate such a possibility completely breaks my heart.

Whatever is unnamed, undepicted in images, whatever is omitted from biography, censored in collections of letters, whatever is misnamed as something else, made difficult-to-come-by, whatever is buried in the memory by the collapse of meaning under an inadequate or lying language — this will become, not merely unspoken, but unspeakable. ~ Adrienne Rich

It matters, perhaps more than most else in my life, that these sacred stories not become unspeakable; rather, that they rise up in power and strength, relevance and meaning. And I don’t know how to make that happen without just continuing to tell them – one at a time, even to one person at a time.

Are there days in which I long to abandon the lot of them and talk about something else?

Absolutely. Are there other days in which I wish I long to stand atop a mountain and command entire swaths of civilization to listen to me? Most definitely. Are there more days in which I long to sit in even the smallest, most intimate of gatherings, hands clasped around warm mugs of coffee, and tell you tales of amazing women? All the time.

Here’s why: underneath all the doctrine and dogma are women whose stories have changed me women’s stories; stories and women who change me still.

Nearly every day, whether in the most mundane or significant of circumstances, I think of one or another of them. They come into my mind and heart. And I imagine, consider, and wholeheartedly accept every ounce of wisdom they offer, every word they speak, every strain of strength and solace they sing into me. They are that present, that real, that relevant, that powerful.