Like many people wanting a mate, I’ve made lists upon lists of attributes I desired in a partner. I created collages envisioning what he would look like, do for a living, drive (I admit my shallowness), wear (ditto), read and be. Mental constructs of my ideal guy. My visualization seemed to “work” – many times, the descriptions I outlined came to be. Years ago, I even met one of the men I had cut out of a magazine and pasted into a collage. Yet often what looked good on the outside was missing something crucial on the inside.
Several editions into my collage, a wise friend gave me great advice. “Create a collage about how you want your life to feel, rather than look, with or without a man.” I took her advice. That collage led me to move home to Virginia from San Francisco, and it lives on my wall today. When faced with decisions, I go to it as a reference point for my heart. It contains images that represent feelings of home, centeredness, sexiness, inspiration, fullness, love, joy, friendship, strength and devotion.
Yesterday, I felt all of that combined, as I snuggled against my man on a rainy Saturday, after a great yoga class and fun pedicure conversation with a good friend. Looking out my window at bright green trees, here was the feeling I’d been walking toward for a long, long time: pure, open-hearted contentment.
You see, I think I’ve become reasonably whole (with much earthly and heavenly assistance). During the years of wanting, and not experiencing, a relationship of length and depth, I practiced cultivating a sense of joy and contentment within myself (sometimes kicking and screaming along the way). If I wanted to live a full life – no matter what – I had no other choice.
It is upon that foundation of love for myself, my winding path, and God, that I now find myself experiencing love for and from someone else.
There is a line from an Eva Cassidy song that describes the mechanism by which I recognize this relationship as deeply good: ‘Cause I know you by heart. Sure, my guy is amazing on paper; he’s handsome, smart, funny, directed, strong, kind, does good in the world, and all sorts of other things that have appeared on my lists. However, it is the feeling in my heart when I am with him that is startlingly different from the past.
I feel authentic, happy, seen, honored, adored, admiring, in love, and grateful. My breath is deep and full in my belly; my body is completely relaxed; and a mighty flower opens in the center of my heart. I believe this is how God intends for me to feel.
Last night, looking at my boyfriend while he studied for exams, I heard the words of a favorite Clay Walker song:
All I know is what I see when I look at you.
And all I see is what I’m feeling down inside.
And all I’m feeling is the feeling that I finally got it right.
I finally learned that it is the feeling – not the list – that makes something right.
What is your heart telling you? I’d love to know.
Archive for April, 2010
What Our Hearts Know
April 26, 2010The Energy Between Us
April 18, 2010A young woman recently told me she believes God is the energy between two people. Such wisdom and awareness! I appreciated the reminder that I must take responsibility for the energy I give to another.
It isn’t easy. I quite regularly catch myself holding back or feeling competitive when interacting with someone new, as if the person across from me must prove herself trustworthy, before I will “love my neighbor as myself.”
The instruction, “So glorify God in your body,” (1 Corinthians 6:20) helps me in my quest to remain open-hearted in my interactions. When I allow God to course through my whole being – heart, mind, strength, and soul – I am much more able to extend “God-like” energy to others.
The yogi Paramahansa Yogananda writes in his mind-opening book, The Yoga of Jesus, “When one actually perceives the Divine Presence in his own soul, he is inspired with love for his neighbor – Jew and Christian, Muslim and Hindu – in the consciousness that one’s true Self and the Selves of all others are equally soul-reflections of the one infinitely lovable God.” (pg. 99)
Can I recognize God in another? Would I even try to see God in my enemy? What kind of energy would I create with her if I did? I find it hard enough to be conscious about my energy with those I love – to love them as completely as I would like to love myself. Therein lies the problem. If I love myself conditionally, I will love others the same way. Similarly, the judgment I feel toward others often reflects hostility within me toward myself.
In interpreting the gospel writer John’s account of Jesus speaking to a Samaritan woman (which a Jewish man at the time would not have done), contemplative priest Cynthia Bourgeault illustrates beautifully what can happen when two people recognize each other as Divine:
“Something he sees in her gives him the confidence to be so nakedly vulnerable; and something she sees in him gives her the confidence to follow his lead, to go higher and higher and deeper and deeper in herself, knowing far beyond what she could know from ordinary knowingness, knowing fully in the immediacy of her own heart. This quality of awareness is not something that comes from outside the moment. Rather, it grows up in the moment itself through the quality and energy of the heart connection.” (The Wisdom Jesus, pg. 11)
May we all give to each other and experience that kind of God energy.
Tell the truth about your life
April 14, 2010“What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life? / The world would split open.” – Muriel Rukeyser
Peace
April 5, 2010Of all the devotion, betrayal, strength, fallibility, sadness, and glory I heard and read about during Holy Week, the line that moved me the most was this: “Peace is my last gift to you, my own peace I now leave with you; peace which the world cannot give, I give to you.” (The Book of Common Prayer)
I’ve written often about doubt and uncertainty on this winding path of mine. It is challenging, at times, to feel lasting peace about earthly matters such as money, love, work, health insurance, family misunderstandings, and social injustice. Yet, in the midst of all or any of those, I’ve come to recognize the kind of peace that is a gift from God – “peace which the world cannot give.”
This peace I feel in my body. When the core of me is open, breathing, and calm, my mind feels safe to follow suit. In this state, I trust the peace of the certainty I feel – certainty that it all means something and God is there for me to lean on. It is the deep peace of forgiveness after confessing “things done and left undone.” It is the peace of saying, “Yes, I do believe in this mystery that ‘passes all understanding.’”
When watching and participating in Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services last week, I had to acknowledge that I believe in what this sacred practice represents. Seeing my clergy dressed in black with their backs turned to the congregation as they prayed was incredibly moving for me. I believe in the underlying story. So I say the words; I sing; I kneel; I eat the spiritual food. On Easter, it sank in deeper.
The judgmental, exclusionary, violent, sexist, neighbor-against-neighbor interpretations of Christianity have made me wary of Christianity as a whole. I’m grateful now to be learning a profoundly different take on what Jesus was teaching and to have found an understanding of God’s kingdom that I want to be a part of.
My mind still asks, “Am I for real? Is this devotion to and worship of God coming from my heart or my head?” I trust my body when she replies, “Yes. This is real for me. I feel this deeply. It has integrity.” Writing about and saying “Jesus” out loud is, at times, uncomfortable for me, yet being with him in private always feels natural. When I meditate, I invite him to sit with me. He offers his hands. I take them. This is complete peace for me.
What brings you peace? If you’d like to share your own practice, please do so.
