Artwork by Jenny Best
What if we all lived in accordance with our heart and not our brain?
Awaken each morning to check with heart center, place our hand on our chest to hear its beat and truly listen to the inner guidance and wisdom it lovingly offers.
The heart lives in the present. Yeah sure it has memories of old wounds that may not be completely healed, but the blood that pumps through it each day is its form of cleansing and renewal
Staying connected with our heart would drown out the sounds of the ego, the inner critic, the emotions rooted in fear and 'not enoughness'.
A heart is created full and remains full as long you give it the nourishment it needs and craves.
Your own love, the warmth of your hand on it, your compassion, your willingness to sit with it in the good times and the not so good.
This heart is like a muscle waiting for its workout, like the baby waiting for its bottle, like the flowers waiting for the bees, like the trees waiting for someone to come sit under its shade and notice its intricate leaves.
The brain wants to solve, the hearts wants to open, to give, to heal, to feel everything.
Keep listening to your brain, stay there as long as you like.
After enough suffering on the mental hamster wheel, your exhaustion and inner chaos will have no other choice but to direct you downwards...into the heart, the land of green, the place created especially for you to feel alive and human.
What if our hearts spoke with one another before our mouths did?
Ah…like cats purring.
Now, this would be pure peace and authenticity.
All Love!
For more What if’s, see Pandemic Ponderings below written by my talented fiance Chris…
Pandemic Ponderings by Chris Chapin
Fight the infection. Stay informed. Shelter in place. Numb the pain. Hoard. Isolate. Survive.
We are living in a wonderland, where down is up and good is bad. Where bustling communities are now fragmented like splintered glass, our weary reflections etched upon the mangled shards. We yearn for communication. A comradery with a kindred spirit, but even though through Zoom we hear it, we miss the very basis of relation. A touch, a hug, a kiss, a handshake, all causalities of this crisis, will we ever connect the same way again? No contact. What is freedom without those to share it? The last man on earth has the world as his oyster and though his body his free his mind is cloistered. No one to share with, no one to laugh, no one to love and no one to hate, his isolation becomes his undoing. Our society has morphed where the free are in cages and the caged are the freest of all, for there is no social distancing among the damned. How farther will we follow the white rabbit?
Hop, hop, hop, bounce, bounce, bounce… the ball rolls methodically across the gym floor, echoing throughout the barren chamber. It’s reverberations haunting my now faded memories. The gym was a place I visited often. The feel of the leathery ball on the hardwood floor, the squeak of sneakers sprinting down the baseline, I was hooked. It brought out the passion in me, it brought out my competitiveness, it allowed me to engage in all the good things in life and release myself from the pressures of this world. I could step onto the court and it was my own nirvana, an oasis for my soul. With rising health concerns, my gym became darkened and subsequently so did my spirits. What if it doesn’t reopen? The droplets of doubts and worries and uncertainties continue to coalesce and gush through my brain like a torrential downpour, flooding any semblance of rational thought. What if my kids lose ground in school, what if the economy doesn’t recover, what if we can’t get married, what if I lose my job? What if this pessimism is the new normal? The great calamity of isolation isn’t the disease of the few, it’s the doubt of the many that accompanies it.