February's Reflection: Heart Time

I heard on the news yesterday that Walter Mondale, who was Vice President under Jimmy Carter, was at the Mayo Clinic where he had just had heart surgery. Of course, he did, I thought, for surely he is heartbroken. His wife Joan had died only days ago. 

We are brokenhearted when there is a profound loss.

We wear our heart on our sleeve when we can't help but show our love.

We take heart. 

We lose our heart.

We offer our heart.

Pure of heart. Aching heart. Soft heart. Valiant heart. Noble heart. Tender heart. Understanding heart. Peaceful heart. Our heart's desire.

I was driving home from seeing my Dad when I heard about Walter Mondale and instinctively I placed my hand on my heart in  a gesture of understanding, connecting, and blessing.  I am aware of how often I rest my hand on my heart when I hear or see something that touches me. That simple motion in which I sense the power of the organ that maintains the flow of blood through my body reminds me to open my heart to not only what I feel, but to the needs and desires of others. I feel a connection when I touch my heart.

Before I meet with a spiritual directee, I pause with my hand on my heart and I whisper to myself, "Listen with the eyes of your heart." When I find myself in the midst of a heartfelt conversation, whether professionally or personally, when someone is pouring out their heart to me or when I sense a heart that is tight and constricted, I prompt myself to be present with a listening heart. 

A Habit of The Heart
Recently, I decided to set the alarm on my phone to ring at 4:00 in the afternoon every day. That is often a low point of the day for me, but now it has become a welcome time of the day, for the alarm signals me to stop and pause. To rest in silence briefly and listen to the beat of my heart. With my hand on my heart I become more aware of where I am and who I am and of the love I have to share. I become more centered in the life I am blessed to have and for at least an instant, I feel bonded to all of God's creation. 

An Invitation
Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and I wonder what your heart gesture will be. I invite you to listen with your heart, to offer your heart, to open your heart. Who knows where that will lead! 

On the Bridge, the Spiritual Practice of Transitions a post by Nancy L. Agneberg

    I am frequently aware of being in the midst of transition, and that interests me and becomes an opening for examination of both my inner life, as well as what is swirling around me in my outer life. 

   Fall into Winter

   This morning I noticed evidence of transitions as I walked through the neighborhood. Mainly, the transition between fall and winter, between Halloween and Christmas. Pumpkins, some almost melting in on themselves thanks to frosty nights, along with pots of mums, browning and losing an intensity of color still dominate the scene, but at the same time Christmas decorations are beginning to appear. Greens in window boxes. Lights on trees. Even an artificial Christmas tree on a front porch where pumpkins still march up the stairs. We know we are not quite done with one season, but still there is the temptation and inclination to move into the next season. We treasure and exalt Thanksgiving as a holiday that demands little of us except turkey and mashed potatoes and offers us a chance to express gratitude for our many blessings, but at the same time time, we feel the urgency of Christmas looming ahead in a countdown of shopping days. I say this not to pass judgment or to plead for simplicity and sanity. Instead, I think about the movement in our lives.

     A Transition of the Heart
     Earlier this week my husband needed a heart catheterization in order to determine if the symptoms he was experiencing were the result of blockage and damage to the heart. The good news is that no stent or bypass is needed, but instead drug therapy is proscribed, along with some life style changes that will be good for both of us. The day in the hospital awaiting the procedure was long, but we both remained calm and patient. Bruce rested, and I gazed out the window with its soothing view of Lake Monona over the bare treetops.  Time to breathe and time to be. 
      Later I thought about how my diagnosis of uterine cancer 10 years ago when I was 54 felt like an experience out of time.  Not in the rightful order of things. I felt too young for that to happen. A totally unrealistic assumption, of course. Now we are 64, and as we face this wake up call, it feels as if we are taking a major step into the next stage of our life.  We can't dismiss the possibility of physical issues beyond the norm of colds and flu. Dear friends face cancer or recover from surgeries of various kinds. We are getting older. We are in transition. 
     Bridge Work
     When I meditated the other day, a word arrived in my heart. Bridge. That is how this time feels. We are on a bridge. At times the bridge seems to sway in a strong wind and at times I lose sight of where I have come from, and the way ahead is not very clear, but I don't feel threatened by that. Instead, I am aware of the importance to take every step, to stop and pause often. To breathe and to be. 
     The morning of the heart cath I spent my meditation time with   the new book, Seven Thousand Ways to Listen, Staying Close to What is Sacred, by one of my spiritual guides, Mark Nepo and was given a gift of two words: unplanned unfoldings. This is how transition feels to me. Nepo says, "The larger intention is to stay in relationship with everything that comes along, at least long enough to taste what is living." As I become aware of where I am on the bridge, I pray I accept the invitation of unplanned unfoldings to live fully with love, instead of fear. 
NOTE: As I have been writing this post I have observed a hawk on a nearby tree. As I entered the last word, he flew away. I am grateful for his watchful presence.

  

Habits of the Heart

An invitation: Read Healing the Heart of Democracy, The Courage to Create A Politics Worthy of the Human Spirit by writer, teacher, and activist (and resident of Madison) Parker J. Palmer. I have read other books by Palmer and therefore, knew the quality of his writing and thinking, but I was attracted me to the book in hopes it would help me approach this contentious presidential campaign without raising my blood pressure to dangerous levels. It has done that for the most part, however, there are days when the "you've got to be kidding" factor has to be addressed! 
     Early in the book Palmer reminds the reader of the ideal purpose and nature of politics.
     Politics "is the ancient and honorable human endeavor of creating a community in which the weak as well as the strong can flourish, love and power can collaborate, and justice and mercy can have their day. 'We the People' must build a political life rooted in the commonwealth of compassion and creativity still found among us, becoming a civic community sufficiently united to know our own will and hold those accountable to it."
     Furthermore, "Democracy gives us the right to disagree and is designed to use the energy of creative conflict to drive positive social change. Partisanship is not a problem. Demonizing the other side is."
     Palmer invites us to approach our life as citizens in a democracy with our hearts, for the heart is where our knowledge becomes more fully human. He is fully aware that at times we will be brokenhearted as with the recent killings in Libya, but here is what is so striking to me. Palmer draws the distinction between a heart broken apart and a heart broken open. 
     "If it breaks apart into a thousand pieces, the result may be anger, depression, and disengagement. If it breaks open into greater capacity to hold the complexities and contradictions of human experience, the result may be new life." 
     There's where the reading of this book as a context for the current campaign became a window into my life as a spiritual being. Am I living my life with an open heart, even when my heart breaks? As I look back on my life at times of deep sorrow and disappointment or grief, did I linger in the shattered pieces mired in fear and anger or was I able to use the reality of my broken heart to become more compassionate and to heal, truly heal? In what circumstances does my heart remain broken apart and how do I encourage a more open heart even as it breaks?
     Palmer suggests five Habits of the Heart for American citizens in our current life.
     1.   We must understand that we are all in this together.
     2.   We must develop an appreciation of the value of 'otherness.'
     3.   We must cultivate the ability to hold tension in life-giving ways.
     4.   We must generate a sense of personal voice and agency.
     5.   We must strengthen our capacity to create community.  
You'll have to read Palmer's book to get a full discussion of these habits, but I started thinking about how to develop these habits. What are the spiritual practices I can encourage in my own life that will support these habits of the heart? Here's my list for myself:
     *  Meditation and prayer,
     *  Opportunities for silence and solitude,
     *  Listening more and speaking less,
     *  Reflection through writing and reading,
     *  Stretching the body and the mind,
     *  Participation in community,
     *  Living in the present and with the Presence,
     *  Being aware of all the blessings in my life.
Almost every conversation I have had this week has presented an example of the choice between a heart broken apart and a heart broken open. There is no escaping heartbreaking situations. We all suffer losses, and as we age we will lose more. More and more grief will enter our life. And, in fact, with each day we are closer to our own death. Now is the time to build and reinforce the habits of the heart which not only can support us as we face inevitable challenges, but also can enhance our life, even create new life.  
     I invite you to share your experiences of being heartbroken and the habits of the heart that sustain you. 

Note: Here are other Parker Palmer titles I have in my library and have found to be thought-provoking and helpful:
* The Active Life, Wisdom for Work, Creativity, and Caring
* Let Your Life Speak, Listening for the Voice of Vocation
* A Hidden Wholeness, The Journey Toward and Undivided Life, Welcoming the Soul and weaving Community in a Wounded World

Check out Palmer's website: www.couragerenewal.org


  

Heart Intentions

What a good day to attend to one's heart! I am not an artist, as you can see, but over the years, particularly at times when I've been in emotional or spiritual pain or a time of heightened spiritual discovery, I've drawn a picture of my heart. One time I envisioned my heart fallen over on its side with thick, black walls closing in on it. The drawing startled me and led me to do the necessary work to revive my heart. Another time, as pictured here, I imagined my heart upright and large, spacious within, with butterflies emerging from the dark boundaries. This is what I wrote then: "The butterflies flutter their wings and are attracted by the beating heart as well as the free, air-filled space. Soon the heart will feel the power of their transformative whispers of energy. A green stream of new life, of refreshment, of restoration runs through the heart and the surrounding space. The heart presses against the the upper boundaries, the thick cords of old limitations, and pushes to make more room, to create God space." I had drawn my heart and therefore, the new hope I was feeling seemed more tangible, but at the same time the drawing compelled me to manifest that hope through my actions. 
     This morning I sat and listened to the messages of my heart. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply into my heart area and felt it accepting and absorbing all the love and life and light around me. I imagined my heart expanding and the love and life and light I received flowing through me and extending far beyond my own boundaries. I imagined that love and life and light touching all those I love, and then I imagined that love and life and light touching all those who need love and compassion. I crossed my hands over my heart. I bowed my head towards my heart and listened to its request. "Surrender to me, and I will be your wise and compassionate guide."
     What does your heart look like today? What is your heart whispering to you? Attend to your heart.