“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.” – Rumi

In my current contemplative practices, meditation has been the one that has drawn more and more awareness to the emotional spaces of my heart. There’s always a part of my practice when I check in and have a conversation. I know it sounds silly, but I ask her (my heart) how she’s doing and what she needs. She always answers. When I do this, there is no where to hide stress or pain or sadness.

When, during my meditation, I suddenly taste the saline of tears running down my cheeks, I realize I have some more work to do. 

The first thing that I try (and sometimes fail) to do is sit in silence. When I’m at my best, I allow the hard emotions like fear and hurt to just be. Instead of stuffing them into a compartment to be dealt with later, I give myself time to observe them with no judgement. Cue more tears.

Then comes curiosity. What is this about? Have I felt like this before? When? Why? 

Lastly comes the letting go. I’m sure you know this, but the part of my reptilian brain that was designed to save me from crashing boulders or dangerous wildlife lurking in the tall grass can’t recognize the difference between a physical threat and an emotional one. So, if I feel something emotionally hard, the we’re-in-danger alarm is tripped and it’s all hands on deck. These triggers – situations that remind my amygdala that we could be in peril or remind us of some wound we’ve endured with in the past – multiply the current experience of fear or insecurity or negativity.

This is when I stop talking to my heart, and start talking to my fear. Gently, I may say something like this:

Insecurity, I release you.

Thank you for trying to protect me. But you are no longer needed here.

Fear, you have no place here.

Control, I forgive you. 

I know this all seems woo woo. Trust me – a few years ago, I would have had the same reaction. But when you reach a place in life when you’ve come to your end, you try all the things. This happens to be one that has consistently and effectively moved me forward. #Onward wasn’t just for 2018, friends. It’s for the rest of my life.

[Photo by Simon Migaj on Unsplash]