True north

A love letter to my heart on world meditation day

Northern lights as seen from my yard in the southern Ozarks of NW Arkansas. May 10, 2024

Dear heart,

Did you feel the peace I felt as we did the meditation for the heart this morning? Did you feel the words of our guide as they gently led us to a knowing the mind has drowned out? I think you did. This is the path we have been on for a while now, yes? Yes.

Dear heart, you are strong yet tender. You beat along with my mother’s in the womb 65 years ago and you continue to beat, strong and true today.

You were strong enough to beat and nourish the two humans and their hearts that we grew, then gave birth to. You were strong enough to see us through watching those pieces of you walk this earth. Now we watch their children, our grandchildren walk this earth. More pieces of you. What is this tender love you give if not strength and courage?

You gave a scared young woman the strength and courage to gather those parts of us walking this earth, as we left a life fraught with turmoil, danger, and violence. You gave that scared young woman the strength, courage, and tenderness to love again after we were nearly destroyed. How is it that was 40 years ago?

You were tender enough to break apart, to shatter into tiny shards when we said enough and let our beloved human depart this life 4 years ago. And oh my dear, dear heart, you have been strong enough to keep beating despite being shattered. To keep sparks of light and joy alive when I begged you to please just stop.

Dear heart, you are so much more than a muscle and electricity. You, my dear heart, are stardust. You are moonlight and sunshine. You are summer days shimmering on the water of a river and achingly beautiful, cold winter snow dusted mountains. You are the keeper of my stories.

My dear, dear heart. You have been battered and bruised, yet you still beat…I am, I am, I am. We are, we are, we are one. It is time to make sure I am giving you all you need. To nourish you physically and spiritually. What do you need today, gentle heart? The mind reminds me these are sacred days. It has done its best to wrap us in a protective cocoon. To avoid the jagged edges. Yet, is this what you need? Or do you need me to give you room to expand? To open wider. To embrace all the beauty, pain, joy and sorrow that surrounds us. To deeply connect with others. There is an electricity to every living thing. Lately I have been reminded that together, we are stronger. Was that you leading the way to this knowing? I think so.

I hear you whispering we are art. We are riotous colors dancing across the sky for a fleeting night that will be woven into a different life on the loom. We are the raw, aching beauty of words on a page, sharing our joy and our darkest moments. In our words, our art, and our connections we find our true north once again. My stubborn mind said we lost our true north when our great tree-soul took leave of this earthly existence. But you knew. Even broken you knew we would cling to this life until it is our time. We would remain tender and strong. Wise and naive. Curious as we embrace the chapters we have kept locked away. You made me recognize I must stop poisoning us. Denying who we are.

We are now crone. We are laughter and tears. Barefoot in a garden or on a slippery rock in a creek. Writing words on a page or serving by offering a safe harbor for another aching heart to speak their truth as they find their way back to their own strength so they can build their own safe harbor. Making a garden, sitting at the loom, wheel or with knitting needles.

Oh dear heart. I am so grateful to feel you expanding. To hear your calming whisper to misfiring signals this body sends. Shush now. You are safe. There is so much more to this life, to this world, to the universe than what you see, hear and touch. Slow down, listen to my sure beat. You will find your signs. Our true north has always been right here. We are our own true north.

Dear heart…I think the rare gift of seeing those dancing lights in the night sky were the lights to guide me home. We have the power to fix ourselves. We are already doing it.

Thank you, dear heart.