It was sobering to find tenderness in unlikely places — to be willing to listen to life — tossing up thoughts and stories gathered and held so carefully in exchange for a new kind of emptiness and the courage to regather pieces of my heart again and again — each time a little more sweetly. It was a relief not to need to fit the many pieces of my heart together all at once. Advertisements
I learned the value in reclaiming the sacred space within and reconnecting with my heart. There were times when a power greater than my own small, separated self rose up and intuitive knowing could no longer be ignored. Each moment became a conscious choice of “What now?” Anything not moving in the direction of creativity and restoration naturally fell away.
It seemed risky at first. But I never regretted my decision to continue on toward my heart at all costs. Somewhere, subtly, deep down I knew it was reconnecting with my own deepest heart I longed for most of all.
Thank you, inner healer, for always being as you are — your gentle way softly calling me closer to the center of my heart. Amen
For a dear friend who asked me what I learned after a long recovery from anorexia and for all of us — I found that, without a doubt, who I am is more than this human body and mind. I know this, not because I studied with enlightened beings, even though I did. I know this because I lived it. That is the power and tender treasure in this human journey, especially those that […]
It wasn’t about trying so hard to create, really. Healing my own shattered heart was an art, not a formula. It took the strength of each piece risking to trust when it would have made more sense to turn away. It took the strength to reach and to hold with open hands — without grasping or needing to avoid being left alone in my reaching while praying to God that wouldn’t happen. It was a […]
There was a kind of strength that came out of my deepest pain and mixed with the tenderness shattered pieces of my own heart had worked so hard to push down — because they sensed the amount of truth they would cry out was too much for any one piece to hold — but they were never seperate, really. This strength found a way to reach up just once more when it had been pushed […]
My deepest posture became one of reverence. I found my deepest self could endure much shaking on the surface. It could honor all parts of the whole, without clinging to a set of ideas I had thought myself to be for a while. It was no longer about winning. It was about finding a way through a natural process, where I had the chance to participate in my own evolution — reaching for a hand […]
At a certain point, the only real option was going to the source — risking it all to find something worth holding. It meant looking within and finding that one thing I could say was sacred, that one thing worth holding if everything else I thought I had understood turned out to be untrue. I had to know if there was hope for any of us. I had to know if there was something to […]
I began to listen a little more deeply, noticing without forming thought too soon. I found myself safely grounded in the sacred space of my heart. I could feel when truth was spoken and recognize my own true voice rising out of the silent spaces I had longed for and feared. And I knew I could filter it out of any amount of noise and clutter.