The sweetness at the heart of us
THE NATURE OF US
There is a sweetness at the heart of us that is difficult to describe in words. The beauty of nature often reflects it. Today it felt like a soft spring emanating from the center of my heart, moving in my body through my blood. Pure sweetness, eternal love, connected to the abundant nectar of life. At these moments I know I have everything I need and will always be connected to this pure love. And sometimes, insight arises as well. Back in 2015 I wrote this:
Last night I experienced the heart center blossoming as an enormous rose and the nectar of the heart delivered to all my cells through the blood. Each cell being plumped and filled with this honeyed nectar blood, pouring from the heart through the arteries to the cells. And each cell having its own awareness and able to saturate itself by breathing this blood into itself.
It is clear that love is the creative juice that makes all things possible and renews and interconnects us all. And that "caring for" our bodies or a plant or a raven or a mate is what interconnects us. The nectar of the heart, the creative juice, grows with our caring.
I am editing this a few weeks later because I remember an important part of this: I had drawn the animal card Mountain Lion shortly before, and had asked the Lion archetype for more courage. Then the heart opening happened.
I think of the courage aspect that initiated this opening - in a world like ours it takes courage to be open, tender, undefended. It takes courage to be present with every situation, to feel the chaos and emotions that move in and out of our lives, and to be with the ever-changing moment. Pure love is our fundamental baseline. It moves in everything, including our bodies, and moves through water as our blood and fluids. Yet I cannot touch into it every moment. A bit like how we know the sun is shining above the storm clouds, but it is temporarily invisible to us.
Being present with our bodies even in dreary conditions is akin to being there when the sky finally parts and the sun returns. Being present when nothing is happening can be particularly trying, yet sometimes that is the most fertile ground, waiting for the seed to germinate. So often everyone and everything seems more interesting than just being right here with our feelings. Taking time out to just be quietly aware of ourselves, we establish true intimacy. How do I feel right now? How does my heart feel, and my belly? In this moment I may discover, through my own attention, that love does run through me, that we are made of love. It is a commitment to being curious about who we really are, turning our attention to the feelings that have gone unnoticed, or the boredom that we run from with food or screens.
There is a profound freedom that arises when we become intimate with our inner self. We don’t need anything else to feel alright with who we are and what is happening - sadness, anger, pain are simply allowed to be there. Or at times we may be motivated to express or act on something we feel, and follow a strong impulse. Being present with ourselves also helps with discerning what thought forms or patterns are not really ours - yet influence our behavior. Sometimes information arises through breathing, not changing the breath in any way, but noticing where it is and isn’t moving within us.
I found this in my journal from 2019, in which I wrote:
Thoughts on the open heart -
It’s not just about light, the open heart feels it all, sees the dark and the light, and to the extent that it holds it all, embraces the whole, keeps growing open.
Growing open. The arms of the mother embracing it all, feeling through it all. At the heart of everything, love nourishes and supports.
We see love everywhere, in our child or partner, the flowers or trees, yet inside ourselves can be the most elusive, feeling down to where it emanates from our own heart. Feeling this deeply joins us to the continuum of the whole, to the nature of us at the core of everything.
In that same journal a year after my divorce I wrote about ways to live in a body, ways to deepen our connection to our bodies, likely to remind myself:
Walking in a creek bed from stone to stone, floating in warm water on a sunny day, being in a waterfall or sitting close to one - and watching the flow, riding gentle waves in an ocean cove,
lavender bath right before bed, massaging my feet with oil, lying naked in gentle sun, feeling my toes as I walk barefoot, lying in the caress of warm sand, gently jumping on my mini trampoline, feeling the grace of my walking body, enjoying just the right textures of fabrics enveloping my skin,
feeling the breath gently filling my torso, living among plants and trees - inside and out - feeling their living presence, moving through the day to my inner rhythms, letting emotions express through me, slowly rolling on the floor on warm wood or soft carpet,
rolling with another body languidly, dancing from an inner impulse - the felt sense of each movement arising and expressing, experiencing the grace of the flow of life, the interplay of the elements, feeling the space inside - the inner cathedral of the body, being the cells breathing together, being the movement of a walk - or breath or kiss, improvising touch or movement or conversation - being with what is arising into form.
I didn’t edit this from the original. I noticed I said gently a lot. I needed gentle then, I have learned we often need to be gentle with ourselves. Yet there are times we may need to run wildly, dig in the dirt, get hot and sweaty, or jump in a cold plunge. I encourage you to make your own list, ready for when you need to get out of your head and be with body and earth.
The last one, being with what is arising into form, I find this is an exquisite place, very connected to the emptiness or silence. Our attention becoming so fine that it can see what is bubbling up from the depths of us. It feels like deep intimacy. It usually requires quiet and spaciousness.
I am glad I kept journals, they span the past 40 years, and are good reminders of what I have learned, how I have developed over time. In 2017 writing about my gardens and how happy I was, I wrote:
My heart is a wellspring of nectar light, in every moment my body is renewed, dissolving into the Great Heart and arising again. Every heartbeat supported by the breath of the lungs - the heart cradled by the lungs.
I had no idea that I was about to enter a few years of intense grieving. I was unexpectedly (2018) divorced. Looking back I can see that life has it’s own timing. I seem to develop in waves, each unfolding preparing me for the next. Today I am stronger, wiser and more resourceful than I was back then, for having felt into the intensity of the grief and darkness of those years. I learned that the sweetness of love is not dependent on externals, on whether someone is loving me or not. Love is us, love runs through us and connects us.
The sweetness at the heart of us is tangible, like the center of a flower. I find my ability to touch into it has grown over the years. Much of the time it simply arises, perhaps prompted by something in nature or just being quiet. Once a few years ago, I was looking into the center of a rhododendron when my face began to resonate with the openness of the flower. My lips felt plump and filled with nectar, and from my heart through the front my chest and neck, I was pulled into her softly glowing beauty.
Nature touches us and draws us to her, into the sweetness of her heart - our heart as well. The throbbing pulse of life emanates love through all beings, all of us. We only need to take the time to notice. Inside the garden of the heart, the world sings to you, it shimmers and sways inside your body, the brilliance and intelligence undulating each cell as you surrender to her beauty. She is your lover, the nectar flowing sea, the song of the sun and water, the elemental dance of creation. The earth is moving through a new part of the sky these days, and the frequency of the planet and all of us is increasing. Our bodies are changing as well, and despite the chaos of the old ways crumbling, love is renewing us each day.
Thank you for joining me here today!
Sabrina Page, MA in Philosophy, Cosmology and Consciousness, writer, facilitator, and astrologer. My background includes working with individuals and groups, with a focus on somatic inquiry and embodiment to support you in living life fully, freely and fluidly, intertwined with nature. As well, I have studied movement, dance and astrology with some of the leading individuals in their fields. My private sessions are offered on zoom, phone, or in person in Bolinas, California.
More information is available on my website, sabrinapage.com
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Sabrina, you are a whimsical one...that was the word i used last time too. i esp liked the rhododendron kiss. For me, journals never made sense, but seemed like a "have to" not a "want to" - so i didn't - but i've always written - and when i got serious about it in 2010 i started a long post called "blog as book" so i could meander toward my message with all the passion of each day...and so here we are together today...
Another great writing, Sabrina!