Matters of the Heart


I never use to listen to my heart, I thought perhaps I was protecting it by not letting it speak. I thought it needed to be silenced because it felt so unreliable.


Now I know it's power. I connect with its rhythm and I realize that even though I turned away from it, ran from it, abandoned myself so many times, it never stopped loving me. It was always here, like a patient friend. It loved me through it all.


When I first began to heal this head and heart relationship, I felt numb and dead inside.

I couldn't' connect. I couldn't feel, but I showed up anyway. I was so exhausted from running away, from escaping, from creating the same pain again and again. So no matter how disconnected I felt, I showed it anyway.


Slowly I began to crack through the walls I had built around my heart. I began to feel. It wasn't joy, or peace, or any of the things I had been hoping to feel, instead it was rage. Pure heat and anger followed by waves of frozen sadness and deep muddy waters of grief.


It took so many rinses of the heart to begin to see clearly. Little by little I felt more space, more softness, I began to experience what it felt like to plug in and connect with my heart. With me. It wasn't something that I had to find or create, it was coming back home to something that had always been there. It was here all along.


Here. For. Me.


Now I know, it's all matters of the heart.

And each time I come home to my heart and listen I wake up.

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