Heartful Home #thisamericanlife #heart #home
Every Sunday night, I participate in this call-in meditation with a woman I have never met in person. The best way I can describe her is a Life Coach for Black Women. Her teachings show you how to be a better you, primarily for YOU, which then allows you to be a better human being to those around you.
I can dig that, although at first I scoffed at the idea that I even needed to be life coached by anyone, much less someone I had never met in person. But then the things she said and wrote about began to seep into my subconscious in such a way that I couldn’t continue to hide from myself in the subtle ways that we all do.
So I listened. I took my mental notes and even followed one of her practices, 21 Days of Gratitude, which I wound up turning into the 31 Days of Gratitude for the entire month of December where I list in my online journal, at least three things that I am grateful for in that day. I have to say that December 2011 and 2012 were the first times I have ushered in a New Year not being depressed. Truth.
With all that being said, during one of those meditations last week, she asked us to ask for clarity in whatever it was that was being an issue in our lives. And since nothing immediately surfaced, I kept meditating. But a few nights ago, I woke up in the middle of the night, as I often do and a feeling washed over me. I didn’t have words for it at first but the sentiment was that my heart needed a home.
Curious really. I never thought of that, in that way. I have always been reluctant to get back into a relationship because of a varying number of reasons. I have always wondered what a relationship for me should look like – being with another woman, eventually moving in together, sharing our space/lives, etc… My heart needing a home was never a consideration, if that makes sense. I just figured that where ever I was, my heart would be happy, as it was with me and her, together. But I guess I thought wrong.
The feeling continued and felt like My Heart was expressing needing a place to unpack her things and stretch out. But that this place is not necessarily physical. It is the open-ness and communication to exist and live in a way I am not sure I’ve ever done before. Then I realized that my Heart needs a place to unpack her knick-knacks, to hang her favorite painting, a corner to do her reading and play her music. My Heart needs to feel protected, respected, appreciated and understood. My heart is yearning to live… and finally love.
Interesting thing to wake you up at 3am. And I haven’t been able to shake this feeling since. I feel like a bad parent or guardian because I don’t know how to give my Heart that home she’s wanting. Interesting still that it doesn’t feel hopeless or forlorn, this feeling. It feels matter-of-factly stated and that a resolution is in the happenings, practically on the horizon, though I don’t ‘see’ anything or anticipate anything coming down the pipes.
Maybe my Heart knows more about this living thing than I ever could. I am happy to live sheltered and routine because it ensures that I am safe. But apparently my heart has other wants and plans. So I carry this new found sense of relief (because that is what it feels like, finally) with me, with all the hope and wonder that it’s brought along with it.
Let’s see where my Heart leads me.
And somewhere/somehow this next bit seems appropriate. It is Act Two of the This American Life podcast #489 – No Coincidence, No Story. Of course its about love and how sometimes some things are meant to be? I don’t know if that means anything for me but it felt right to mention it here. Plus, I like This American Life. You should check them out.