Welcome...

Come meander with me on the pathless path of the Heart
in these anecdotal,
sometimes inspiring, sometimes personal meanderings of the Heart's opening in the every-day-ness of life...
Showing posts with label Heart wound. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Heart wound. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 12, 2025

Embracing Humanity's Pain - a meandering...


I wrote this piece about 13 years ago in the aftermath of Hurricane
Sandy that devastated parts of the Northeast in the U.S.  It seemed
relevant to resurrect it with what is going on in the world today,
with floods, fire, famine and ongoing, endless wars -
the state of humanity...

~

The images on TV back then of people on the East coast left broken
 and brokenhearted - calling out for assistance, as if they had been
abandoned - touched my heart, touching that same feeling of
abandonment deep within myself somewhere.  And I wonder, how
could I live in a contemplative bubble that I am wont to do - close
myself off to what is happening in the world, under the guise of
"spirituality"?  I can't.  There is no either/or.  It's all one Life living
ItSelf out here - just as it is...  Pain and Peace...  And maybe it's
really that I want to protect myself from feeling my own pain.
That's what global pain does.  It gets us in touch with our own
pain, our own vulnerability, our own helplessness to know what
to do for a hurting world, let alone our own pain.

I saw a woman on TV back then helping in the clean-up effort in
her own coastal town - crying - saying - "I want to go home, but
there is no home.  It's gone."  I turned away and cried silently in
my heart.  I can't imagine the devastation to the psyche that no
amount of religious platitudes of non-attachment, or non-dual
refrains of: there is no "me" who wants to go home - can assuage.
It is a deep wound of the heart to lose one's sense of "Home" -
to *feel* that sense of separation and loss.  I'm sure some have
 felt that in one form or another at some time in our lives,
whether it was a loss of a physical place, a person, or an
emotional/spiritual sense of "Home" - that led to a sense of
 deep "homesickness" of the heart.

And a lot of us know people in our daily lives who need our
empathy and our compassion, who have lost their sense of
"Home", feeling abandoned by "God" (however we know that
to be) - losing that felt sense of connection adrift in their lives. 
 I understand this deep wound.  I know such people. 
 I've been there.  I empathize.
  It is a helpless feeling not knowing how to help them. 
 It's as if some people's pain is so deep , it cannot be mended. 
 It is not a tangible "fix" on a practical level, or seemingly a
"spiritual"one either.  It is a deep pain of the psyche.   
It is a loss of "Home" - a loss of one's internal bearing of the
Spirit;an insatiable pain that no one and nothing can fill.  I'm
sure you've met them too. The ones whose hearts cry the cry
of desperation in a dark wilderness of the mind, like sleep
 deprivation, leaving a deep hollow hunger within. 
 How do we help these wounded wanderers?
  Like the displaced people of Palestine, and
 Ukraine, in their current reality... 
Breaks my Heart again...

It all trickles down, pain upon pain - or maybe I sound too morbid -
too dramatic...  But it's true.  We are all impacted by the pain of
others, by the global, collective pain of a wounded world.  One
person's pain affects us all.  And yet, many times, as I have
discovered, we are helpless to end the pain, and so we distract
ourselves from the pain, theirs and our own, by shutting it out,
and shutting down; by pretending that it is all a grand illusion,
a dream that we can detach from.  I have done it too, not wanting
to experience the pain.  But the pain ripples out anyway - through
humanity.  How can we *not* be affected - how can we not allow
ourselves to *feel* it...

Humanity's pain *is* my/our pain.  It's all a reflection.  And lofty
beliefs and "spiritual" words are dismissive, not helpful, because
they cannot be heard, or received by those caught in their deep pain...
Humanity's pain needs the embrace of an empathetic heart of
compassion...

~

There's nothing I can offer
that buffers the pain
that softens the heartache,
or heals the wounds -



And yes, at times I don't want
to feel others' pain,
because it is too overwhelming...

And because I have my own pain.

And what to do with that as well...

I sit with it and let it speak,
let it cry,
let it take me to the "mothering":
womb of the Silence of all Life,
and rest there - waiting;
petitioning the Cosmic Energies,
neither male nor female,
to intervene,
on behalf of
a suffering world.

Sometimes
that's all I can do...

When the "practical"
fails to touch the soul...

We pray...

And that is our offering
of love...


Mystic Meandering
2012


~

Photo - Mystic Meandering


Monday, September 11, 2023

The Longing of Our Wounds - Matt Licata


Healing can't just be conceptual.  It's not a matter of thinking
differently, more "positively", or even more "spiritually" -
orbiting around the wound with our favorite metaphysical
beliefs, ideas and fantasies.

It's not clear thinking, or even "awareness" that can reach into
the wound and reorganize it. These can all be supportive, of
course, but in the end, healing is experiential, somatic, and
embodied.

While the wound is open, while it's activated and online,
there's a way in that moment that it's weeping.

That weeping, those tears that emerge from inside the wound,
these are emanations of a vital process in alchemy called solutio.
There's a dissolving that must occur in order for transmutation
to unfold.

In that moment of open weeping, the wound presents itself to
be reorganized, to receive something which has been missing,
something the wound has been longing for.

Not just the wound in some abstract way, but the longing of the
little one, the lost orphan of the psyche and soma who has been
carrying that burden of trauma, of aloneness, of unbearable 
emotional pain on our behalf for so long
.

That longing, that yearning in the heart is to receive what has
been unavailable..., and what was missing at the
time the trauma became embedded.  
What that is, is love...

The healing medicine is love...


~
For those still traumatized by 
9-11-2001
Blessings of Love

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

 

Saturday, August 27, 2022

The Wound - Maya Luna


Maybe you don't heal 

The wound

Maybe it becomes an

Opening

Where buried truths can finally

Speak

Maybe it's a portal into

An abandoned universe

Crying out to be

Known

Maybe the rip and tear is tilled

Ground

Where fresh creation

Blooms

Maybe it wasn't meant to be

Closed

Maybe its a secret

Well

A blackened vessel

Where power flows

Maybe the raw cut was meant to

Bleed

Vital Medicine into

Thirsty Hearts


Maya Luna


with thanks to No Mind's Land

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering
2004

 

Tuesday, July 19, 2022

Love Rises...



 

Love Rises...

Unsought... Unintended...
Surprising me with its soft
dancing vibration in the
hollow of my chest...

Love Rises...

A Mystical Energy....
Unbidden... Uncreated...
Hidden within
this caged Heart...

Love Rises...

Surrounding the wounded heart...
An unexpected presence,
vibrating quietly like a
breeze flutters leaves...

Love Rises...

Revealing Itself...
Emerging from the depths
of The Silence within...
Of Its own accord,
In Its own time,
In Its own way...


When I'm not looking...

Love Rises...

Gently brushing my Heart open,
moving me to tears...


The Mystery of Love:

Love Rises...

From within...


No matter how dark
our life circumstances;
how broken society is...

Love Rises...


Mystic Meandering
July 16, 2022

~

Photo taken by my husband on 
the Full Moon July 2022



Sunday, June 27, 2021

Wounds are the Windows - Fred LaMotte


 A broken heart lets light in.  If it breaks wide open, the
beam has no end: it flows through to other hearts.

Wounds are our windows into each other.
Don't be hasty to heal and close.  Don't be a knower.
Be an opening.


Fred LaMotte
Uradiance

~

Open to a deeper part/layer of yourself, as if
your Soul is about to speak to you.



~

Photo - Mystic Meandering

This beautiful creature was on our patio Thursday night.
One of its wings was "wounded" and it couldn't fly.
If anyone knows what it is please let me know...


Sunday, April 19, 2020

Feel Your Feelings - Fred LaMotte


[.....]

It is good, it is very good
to feel precisely
what I am feeling,
even grief, and despair.
For when I am completely
what I feel,
there is transformation
and healing.
No darkness left
to penetrate,
for I am all night.
This is how light is born.
This is how the bud
breaks open, spilling
beauty from a wound.
This is how the chrysalis
frees a golden moth
from its season
of uncertainty.
This is how your tear
becomes the sky.


Fred LaMotte
Uradiance

~

Photo - Mystic Meandering


Friday, November 4, 2016

Holy Wounds - Pesha Joyce Gertler


Finally on my way to [saying] yes [to life]
I bump into
all the places
where I said no...
all the untended wounds
the red and purple scars
those hieroglyphs of pain
carved into my skin, my bones,
those coded messages
that send me down
the wrong street
again and again
where I find them
the old wounds
the old misdirections
and I lift them
one by one
close to my heart
and say - holy
holy...


Pesha Joyce Gertler
"The Healing Time"




Sorry the photo is not clear
it was taken many years ago
with a very old camera,
but I like the colored water :)


Thursday, February 14, 2013

The Hard Kind of Love...



“Love never dies a natural death.
It dies because we don’t know how
to replenish its source.

It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals.
It dies of illness and wounds;
it dies of weariness,
or witherings,
or tarnishings.”

Anais Nin
 

This may seem like an odd quote to post on the global day for celebrating “love.”  But when I read it a week or so ago on Love Is A Place it struck me as being true in so many ways – not just about romantic love, but in our day to day relationships with lovers, spouses, partners and companions; our dysfunctional families who are hard to love, friendships that die because of betrayal or wounds; or when the love for life within dies when we grow tired of the pain of life and living; when despair comes to visit and platitudes of love no longer “work” to soothe the weary heart.  We need to find a way to nourish Love – not being quick to correct and criticize, but eager to empathize and encourage – to hold the Heart open – as hard as that is.  We need to find Love’s Source and bathe in it to know the enduring kind of love that sustains – that understands the weariness, the witherings and tarnishings of love over time, embracing them.  It’s a hard kind of love that willingly leans into life when it doesn’t turn out as we planned, that willingly lets go of betrayals, and errors, and wounds; that willingly stands in the face of hatred - unmoved.  I am not good at this kind of love…   It’s the hard kind of love that no one tells you that you will need for the journey of Love.  It must be discovered, and rediscovered, as it calls us to open our hearts again and again and again – to Love…


Photo: a heart shaped stone
laid in an old weathered wound of a tree…
Do you see that incredible weathered face there?




Friday, November 2, 2012

A Week of Pain...


The imagery on TV of people on the East coast left broken and broken-hearted – calling out for assistance, as if they have been abandoned - has touched my heart, touching that same feeling of abandonment deep within myself somewhere.  And I wonder, how could I live in a contemplative bubble that I am wont to - and close myself off to what is happening in the world, under the guise of “spirituality”?  I can’t.  There’s no either/or.  It’s all one Life living ItSelf out here – just as it is…  Pain and Peace… And maybe it’s really that I want to protect myself from feeling my own pain. That’s what global pain does.  It gets us in touch with our own pain, our own vulnerability, our own helplessness to know what to do for a hurting world, let alone our own pain.  And ironically, the more time I spend contemplatively in Silence, listening within, the more of the world’s pain I seem to feel, as well as peace.

I saw a woman on TV helping in the clean-up effort in her own coastal town – crying – saying – “I want to go home, but there is no home.  It’s gone.”  I turned away and cried silently in my heart.  I can’t imagine the devastation to the psyche that no amount of religious platitudes of non-attachment, or non-dual refrains of, there is no “me” who wants to go home, can assuage.  It is a deep wound of the heart to lose one’s sense of “home” – to *feel* that sense of separation.  I’m sure we have all felt that in one form or another at some time in our lives, whether it was a loss of a physical place, a person, or an emotional/spiritual sense of “home” – that led to a sense of deep “homesickness” of the heart.

And a lot of us know people in our daily lives who need our empathy and our compassion, who have lost their sense of “Home”, feeling abandoned by “God” – adrift in their lives.  It is a deep wound.  I know such people in my family.  And it is a helpless feeling not knowing how to help them.  It’s as if some people’s pain is so deep that it cannot be mended.  It is not a tangible “fix” on a practical level, or seemingly a “spiritual” one either.   It is a deep pain of the psyche.  It is a loss of “Home” - that sense of eternal Beingness – a loss of internal bearings of the Spirit; an insatiable pain that no one and nothing can fill.  I’m sure you’ve met them too.  The ones whose hearts cry the cry of desperation in a dark wilderness of the mind, like sleep deprivation, leaving a deep hollow hunger within.  How do we help these wounded wanderers?

It all trickles down, pain upon pain – or maybe I sound too morbid - too dramatic…  But it’s true.  We are all impacted by the pain of others, by the global pain of a wounded world.  One person’s pain affects us all.  And yet, many times, as I have discovered, we are helpless to end their pain, and so we distract ourselves from their pain, and our own, by shutting out and shutting off; by pretending this is all an illusion.  I have done it too, not wanting to experience their pain.  But their pain ripples out anyway - through humanity.  How can we *not* be affected – how can we not allow ourselves to *feel.*

I once read a story online.  I believe it was a story of an African man who when asked how he was said he was “unwell”, even though he was very well.  The story went that his grandmother was not well, and that when one member of the family was unwell, they were all unwell.  And I knew what he meant.  I experience this myself in my own family.  One family member’s unwellness of being affects the whole family, and we are all “unwell” - we are all in pain, until that person becomes whole again. To some that sounds “co-dependent”, but it is energetic; an energetic vibration felt throughout the whole.   

Their pain *is* my/our pain.  I don’t want it to be.  I want to ignore it, or blame them for their choices that created their own pain…  But there it is.  It’s all a reflection.  And lofty beliefs and words are not helpful, because it cannot be heard, or received by those caught in the deep pain of the unconscious…


There is nothing I can offer
that buffers the pain,
that softens the heartache,
or heals the wounds -

for my sister, my mother, or the world…

And yes, at times I want to hide from their pain,
to not feel their pain,
because it is often too overwhelming…

And because I have my own pain.

And what to do with that as well…

I sit with it and let it speak,
let it cry,
let it take me to the “mothering”
womb of Silence of all Life,
and rest there – waiting;
petitioning the Cosmic energies,
 neither male nor female,
 to intervene;
on behalf of my sister,
my mother,
myself,
and a suffering world.

Sometimes
that’s all I can do…

When the “practical”
fails to touch the soul…

We pray…

And that is our offering
of love…



Photo: A piece from another canvas in progress…



Friday, June 22, 2012

Wounds of the Heart...


My mother’s cat literally dropped dead at her home a week ago Thursday, leaving my 84 year old mother sitting holding her dead cat in a deluge of tears in the Vet’s office - understandably.   Unspoken wells of emotion came from deep caverns within, flooding the room.  I’m sure it was also years of the hidden emotional pain of life and loss.  Loss can do that.  It brings up a lot of hidden issues we didn’t know were there.  My teary eyed sister and I tried to console her.  But what can you do when a woman does not want to be consoled, when she pulls away in bitterness, and uses the opportunity to zing you with her words.  Anger and pain are closely related.  While cradling her dead cat like a newborn, she said: “I know *other people* didn’t like you but *I* loved you – indirectly pointed at the two of us – purposely shrugging each one of our hands off her shoulder – pulling away.  Ouch…

My mother’s cat was not a cuddly, loving cat.  You had to keep your distance, and pass by him carefully undergoing a gauntlet of hisses and swats.  No, we didn’t warm up to him.  But we each have lost a cat and know the deep pain and grief of losing a beloved pet.  And we were being rebuffed for our offering.  I could only step back in wonder at how deep my mother’s pain must go to use this opportunity to bite back – unconsciously, I know.  This hasn’t been the first time either.  As my sister and I stepped away and moved across the room I became aware of an internal hurt to the zing, and a reaction arose.  Instead of love, an incredible awkwardness filled the room – and the ride home from the Vet.  The remnants of unclaimed baggage…

How does one express love and compassion to a woman who obviously can’t receive it, whose emotional baggage is so heavy she has no free hands to receive any offer of consolation.  Whose wounds are so deep they won’t allow her to authentically love – or be loved.  This is the dynamic in my family vortex, and I imagine in many other families as well.  We all have them – the baggage, the wounds, the denial, the blaming, the deep bitterness of not feeling loved and nurtured enough that poisons relationships and gets carried from generation to generation.

Over the years we all have had our own ways of wounding each other with our hidden pain - with sharp tongues, with sarcasm and criticism, with anger - revealing our inability to hold our hearts open. Unable to speak of our wounds with each other in mature, authentic ways that heal, we default instead to the dysfunction, reverting to the passive-aggressive hurtful behavior of our prickly personalities – with little digs that get expressed to relieve the hidden suffering, to bite back, to be right – to try to control our pain.

Many years ago I became aware of my own pain and dysfunction – my shadow side - and began to get some much needed professional help. I also took up the so-called “spiritual path” to find a “better way”, to become more conscious of my own deeply hidden wounds – and – to “awaken” to who I really am at the Heart of Being beyond the pain.  This does not make me special, or more evolved, or “better than.”  I just wanted to move past the pain, and to know the Truth.  I thought I had gotten past the pains of the past, but last week I could feel the heart ache flood to the surface again.  I was a bit surprised actually.  The difference was, I could just let it be there, just notice it rise (and after a couple of days dissipate.)  No longer willing to lash out from hurt in anger, I was just aware – aware of my own woundedness and everyone else’s, still trying to be present - from a safe distance emotionally – allowing some space as the thunder rolled through everyone. 

It became clear that the cat’s death had become a catalyst for the emergence of unspoken family pain again…  But what can one do when other family members don’t want to *see* their pain, to face the 500 pound elephant in the room, refuse to get help while drowning in a sea of dysfunction – threatened by the mere exposure of the deep, open family wound that makes my heart ache to write about it...

“Accepting life as it is” sometimes gets bandied about in non-dual circles like a cliché, but the pain of “life as it is” needs to be addressed at times… At some point there has to be a willingness to *see* - our own and each other’s wounds - a willingness to get to the root of the wound: the *belief* in separation from our Eternal Beingness/True Nature.

Non-dual awareness, teachings, practices, methods, and techniques are not a “spiritual bypass” for our pain.  Nothing is left behind.  Everything is allowed as part of the fabric of Reality – the suffering, the wounds, the shadows, the tears in the fabric of living.  And there needs to be a willingness to open to those wounds through awareness, tenderness and compassion *for* the woundings.   And through that, a different path emerges, so that we are not unconsciously defaulting to the path of hidden pain and suffering, again and again… 

But - are we willing to expose and unwind the wounds of the Heart?   Are we willing to wake up and see the Truth of who we really are and not *live* in our wounds…   Obviously I’m still facing mine :)


~

Photos

The pictures are from a scrapbook I did many years ago when I was addressing the wounds of the Heart.
They are individual collage pages dealing with some aspect of “the wound” as I understood it back then.
What I didn’t understand at the time was the deep wound of separation
that is at the root of our sense of woundedness and suffering -
the not *knowing* of who we really are…

It was only when I began to be aware of our inherent True Nature/Beingness
that the wounds began to be faced and embraced – over time…

May we all wake up from “the wound.”




Sunday, September 11, 2011

Fracture


The desolate place of woundings
is like a stark canyon of deeply creviced walls
and fractured fissures;
a fracture of the heart almost unbearable.

But within the fragmentation is Life.
Hidden deep within these canyoned walls
is an eternal
Light
glowing, throbbing, pulsating -
nestled and protected in a stony enclave,
formed from ages and ages of exposure to the
”elements” of separation…

But the enclave cracks open,
and the Heart Light is exposed
through the quaking of intense pain.
The tremors of trauma loosen and unwall
the hidden
Life
within
revealing a pureness
of innocent vulnerability…

Like the awakening of first light,
gentle, full and graceful,
this shimmering brilliance emerges from
the fissure of fragmentation,
releasing its full expression,
pulsing the message of Love:

“Embrace it all.”


~~

Mystic Meandering
copyright
June 17, 2001

~

The Light finds an opening for ItSelf
*through* our shadows,
our fractures,
our woundings,
which allows us
to experience Its Fullness,
Its Grace…

May all who have felt fractured
by life’s woundings come to a
place of embrace
and rest…



Thursday, June 2, 2011

Bleeding Enso

I was inspired today by Genju’s post over at 108zenbooks on the Enso. So I thought I’d give it a try. (Please see her post for a more complete explanation of the meaning and significance of the Enso.) From my own brief research the Enso is a Zen symbol of completeness, wholeness, infinity, the universe, the absolute, the cyclical nature of existence, and the true nature of existence. It is considered to be a form of meditation showing the expressive movement of the spirit of the person painting at that moment.

I have never done an Enso before, although I have been strangely soothed by viewing them. I saw Genju’s post as an opportunity to play, to be creative, as well as a way to possibly peek into the reflection of where my spirit is at the moment…

The first few I tried, I knew I was “trying” - trying to make the circle complete – trying to get the circle “right” – because I knew how it was “supposed” to look. Mind was trying to control, and they looked “contrived.” It wasn’t until I got to this one – the 5th “try” – that the mind at least partially let go of trying, and the stroke became more expressive of the “spirit” within. I was using a clean make-up brush, watered down acrylic paint, and different kinds of scrap paper that I had. When I got to this one I had switched to a pad of wax coated paper that I used to practice folk art painting on a long time ago – to get the strokes just right before messing up a piece of wood. Always trying to get it “right.” :)

In the Enso pictured here, the original circle was not complete. It started out as a big blob of paint at the top left and ended with hardly a wisp of paint at the end. Then something unexpected happened. I picked up the piece of paper to look at it. The paint literally began to bleed – to run. At first I was a bit panicked: a - this isn’t supposed to be happening - kind of feeling. But I relaxed, became curious and just let it run, turning the paper with the flow. Ah - still trying to control! :) Or – looked at another way - maybe just spontaneously letting life turn the way it does – adjusting and adapting… As the paint flowed a “bridge” appeared between the beginning and the end of the original stroke, and tendrils dripped into the center. I watched mesmerized as redness oozed its way around the circle, and the tendrils just kept going till they ran out of paint. Something inside deeply resonated with it, and I *felt* the reflection of what was expressed in the moment: not quite complete, not finished, not fully "enlightened" – in fact, rather raw and bleeding – life energy running everywhere; even though I keep *trying* to bridge that gap – to keep turning life around so “I” will finally feel complete. Yep – the Enso pretty much sums it up…

I don’t know if this is a” true” Enso, as I get the sense one is not supposed to play with them, or alter them in any way. They are just supposed to be a single brush stroke. But here it is – my “first” (5th) Enso… Something about it fascinates me – being able to peek into the nature of how “spirit” speaks to me, without self-analysis… I like the expressiveness of the movement, watching it unfold, seeing where it all goes – on paper that is. Every day life, not so much… :) The Enso reminds me, however, that even in the midst of the messiness and woundings of life, we are already whole and complete in our true nature. We are embraced just the way we are, even if things are not precise and clean… Wonderfully soothing isn’t it? :)

Thank you Genju for the inspiration and call to creativity!


~*~



Thursday, February 10, 2011

Welcome The Heart Arrows

For several weeks now I’ve been feeling a very intense emotional kind of “heartpain”… No particular event, trauma, or wound comes to mind – just a generic kind of universal human experience wound of the heart. Arrow arriving in the fence nearly two weeks ago was a timely metaphor for looking at this pain, and seeing through the wound into the womb of the Heart…

In the exuberance of opening to the Heart, as has been happening here, there is now an opening and “outpouring” of the wounds that have been held here – the wounds of this life experience that have been hidden in the heart. This does not mean that I am “suffering” with any kind of victimization, or wallowing in old wounds, lost in the memories of old betrayals, and arrows. None of the wounds needs to be identified or rehashed. It’s more of a natural process of release of the accumulated “pain of life” as a whole. As I acknowledge this deep pain, these wounds and their subsequent armoring are being relieved of their duty to guard and protect this heart… But I didn’t realize the process would be so “painful” – requiring such mindfulness not to fall off the edge into story again – to not fall into the unconscious pit of pain…

Last week I just happened to pull Pema Chodron down off the shelf. I like to keep her handy. :) As I scanned through her pages my eyes fell on a few sentences here and there. One phrase in particular was rather timely I thought. She said: “Get in touch with the arrow in your heart and *relate to the wound.* Feel the wounded heart… If someone comes along and shoots an arrow in your heart, it’s fruitless to stand there and yell at the person (or situation). It would be much better to turn your attention to the fact that there’s an arrow in your heart and *relate to that wound.*” Wow – okay – heart begins to twitter… She says that by coming face to face with our wounds and relating to them, actually allowing ourselves to *feel* the rawness of them, the heart actually opens more, and we find the spacious tender heart of bodhichitta – the awakened Heart - underneath the pain. She says that every arrow, every wound is an opportunity to open to this deeper space of the Heart – and relate to That… She does not say to suppress them, or deny that we have them, but to face the wound directly and *it* will lead you to the tender Heart of Hearts underneath… Okay, sign me up for another Heart excursion… I’ll bring the bandages and tape…

However, it appears I’m already on one – and have been for a long time… It is not something I remember consciously choosing to do, or planning to do; it is just happening. Life circumstances have provided the opportunities - the arrows… Maybe ultimately this “outpouring” is happening now because many years ago my desire was to live with an open heart, and I think I thought it was going to happen easily and automatically – maybe even create a by-pass around those clogged arteries. You know, just put in your wish and the magic happens – you awaken and pour out gobs of love and bliss. My life hasn’t worked that way… I didn’t know what “heart opening” would entail, or feel like, and I don’t think I brought along the right gear… No matter, this heart is apparently opening anyway, whether I’m prepared or not, revealing its accumulated contents, and the tender Heart Womb beyond the wounds. I’m in labor here - birthing into the womb of the Heart… Geeze this birth canal is long and dark and there’s no air!

Interestingly, at the end of January I experienced a rather intense period of “heartpain.” So I went to “The Cave” and sat with this “heartache.” I breathed *into* the “pain”, deeply and consciously attending to it. I faced into it internally and took a good look… There was the sense that this “deep pain” was some kind of encasement around the heart, protecting a deeper more vulnerable space. Within the encasement of pain there was a deep light, although I could only see its faint glow. Through the encasement, which was transparent, I could feel beyond the solidity of the pain to a tenderness, a gentle space – the soft heart as Pema calls it. There was also a sense that the pain was also a “gate”, an opening into something unguarded and untouched. I realized that the experience of pain, no matter what the cause, is really an invitation, not an obstacle or barrier. It’s an invitation to open more to the Deep Heart. It’s not enough to just meet the pain, one must follow the pain all the way through into the Womb of the Heart…

It turns out that Arrow in the fence was a messenger of sorts, not only to relate differently to my neighbor, but to welcome the arrows of the heart, to deeply attend the wounds, and allow the light to come through them – the openings that life’s arrows have left behind…



~*~

Check out this piece of prose from Ameeta at Self discovery self