Feeling the feeling of “Lucky me!”-in-my-heart is such a subtle practice. Or maybe it’s the fact that I’m bringing my ‘feeling’ heart online. Curiously, on the day of my last post, recommending working with feeling the feeling of “Lucky me!”-in-my-heart, a stranger approached me and told me I had a ‘white heart’. What is this business with the heart? What is a heart-centred life? I’m being prompted, by circumstances, to take a leap of courage with my professional life in the coming few days. Can a heart-centred approach give me that courage? And is the leap more about courage, or surrender?
Dear soul, on this occasion, your surrendered state is not required. You are invited to hold immense poise, and raise your head up, above the parapet – yes, to the air which you have believed to be rife with flying bullets. You are invited to raise your head into the open air and discover that space to be not only safe but radiant, beautiful, heavenly.
It sounds like a kind of mini-death.
It is a death of some egoic (fearful) thinking. How does that sound?
Hairy. But I’ve done it before, this going beyond my egoic thinking, and the build-up to it, is always worse than the doing, and the fears are rarely borne out, and the ensuing cheery relief is generally palpable. In other words, I know it to be worth the leap. What is my egoic thinking here?
You fear being ‘shot down’.
Hence the flying bullets analogy… Yes. I can see that. I’m reminded of another analogy I picked up for myself a couple of days ago. I was working with the ideas of Tamsin Hartley in the Listening Space – in particular ‘Choose an Object’. As you can see in the lovely video, Tamsin guides you like this:
- Choose a concept or issue you’d like to work with
- Tune into your breathing
- Look all around you
- Choose an object that somehow represents the concept or issue you’ve chosen to work with
- What drew you to that object?
- Is there anything else that drew you to the object?
- Is there anything else that drew you to the object? (Repeat the question several times until there is nothing else forthcoming)
- And what do you know now about the concept or issue?
- And what difference does knowing this make?
- And would this be a good place to leave it?
The other day, I can’t recall the issue I’d picked to work with, but I remember picking the broken chandelier lying around near me as my chosen object. I felt drawn to it because:
- it had been a light-giver once, but was now unplugged
- it was once glamorous but now dusty and missing crystals
- it was not in its right place
- it had the capacity to be restored to use… or shoved in the loft
All quite insightful to how I was feeling…!
Let’s use Tamsin’s process on the theme of ‘being shot down’.
Sure.
Take a minute to tune into your breathing, before looking around the room, and choosing an object that represents ‘being shot down’.
For some reason it’s the large tudor (or not far off) chest.
What drew you to that object?
It’s bulky, visible, beautiful but also in the way. Laden with family history and history. It’s about 300 years old! It was my great Aunt Vera’s (I think). I can’t get rid of it, but I can’t store it either (in this new house). It’s blocking up the bedroom. I used to store my diaries in it, and it’s heavy with history.
Is there anything else that drew you to the object?
It’s followed me around from house to house. I’ve never really liked it, but I probably quite like the ‘statement’ of having a really old piece of furniture. I guess it makes me feel fancy. And I generally manage to use it for something.
Is there anything else that drew you to the object?
I can’t get rid of it. It’s a dark history piece. Literally, a heavy chest. You could keep a body in there. Like skeletons in the cupboard. Stuff might leap out at any moment.
Is there anything else that drew you to the object?
I want to be free of it. It makes me too vulnerable. I can’t ‘move on’ with it lurking about. I need to be more agile. Not to run away, but to live freely.
Is there anything else that drew you to the object?
I hate it. It’s a pandora’s box which could fly open at any moment. It’s heavy yet unpredictable. I need to move away from my past. How do I cut the cords, and start afresh? How do I leave behind, or release, the stuff that makes me cower in a dark, coffin-like box? How do I purify and lighten, bring light to, the past. My past, our collective past? How do I release, heal and cure the past? How do I cleanse the space I live in, materially and psychically? With intention I suppose. And action.
Is there anything else that drew you to the object?
The sunlight falling on it… That’s all.
And what do you know now about the theme of ‘being shot down’?
I think of my past as being carried with me, in a negative, heavy sense – and that it makes me feel inflexible, non-agile, bulky, vulnerable – and nervous about the future. I know that it would be easier to approach life with a sense of ‘and here we are now, and now, and now’. I know I feel inclined to ‘cleanse the past’ and purify it. I guess my past needs to be seen, appreciated and let go of.
And what difference does knowing this make?
It tells me I need to MOVE the energy of my space and heart. It tells me it’s ok to celebrate what is NOW, no matter (and because of) the past. It tells me the present is in the present. It tells me that when I get better and better at feeling the joy of the present moment, which is voiced in my heart, I will cease to worry about being shot down if I stick my head above the parapet. This is a really sensory (heart-centred) process. May I get in closer contact with my heart, and it’s present-moment voice, every day.
And would this be a good place to leave it?
Almost… What’s the message…?
‘May I hear my heart better.’
Yes, that is it… Thank you.
Today I am hearing my heart better, now and now and now…