Monday, January 16, 2006

Dissolving Hearts
My heart has been pounding, almost out of my chest, as soon as I lie down to drop into sleep at night. I am not aware of being anxious about anything. Is it a world event I'm picking up on? Is someone I know in danger? When this happened last December, my friend John died suddenly of a heart attack. I could interpret it as me having sympathy pains. Or, looking farther, I might see it as both of us attempting to stretch the capacity of our hearts to let more light, wisdom, love, and warmth shine through. John's heart couldn't take it and he burned right through into the bigger world out there, and became the heart, without limitations. Am I trying to do this without dying? To become the heart and see the world as the heartfield, to experience a seamless communion? Now I rub aromatherapy oil on my chest at night, and bless my heart. I welcome in whatever wants to come and focus on clearing away any guardedness I've inadvertently been holding. I trust my heart. I love it—that it keeps beating.