A Heart Centered Life
healing the world one heart at a time

I’m always amazed by what life makes (especially when we have no idea what is actually happening behind the scenes) and how those minor and major upsets, often turn out to be huge blessings, bringing more to us than we could have ever imagined.

So, lets go back several months when (I THOUGHT) I was down on my luck:  I was almost 8 months pregnant when our cottage was flooded and the landlords followed up the event with an email suggesting my beloved and I find a new place to live.  We were devastated.  We were, for lack of a better description, SHOCKED, scared, and suddenly, homeless.  Our first stroke of luck came when we were able, last minute, to get into a sublet — but that was temporary and left us scrambling as we searched high and low to find a new place to live.  We were in the SF Bay, living on one income and found we could no longer afford to live there.  

As we weighed the odds and pondered our future, we discussed the possibility of returning to Portland where Sa’id had been born, we both had family and friends, and I had lived on and off throughout my twenties.  While it was not ideal for me (I was deeply vested in my life in the bay), I was aware that there was not a door opening for us there and it might be time to look at other options.  After countless sleepless nights and a baby that could come any day, we decided to go to Portland.  Grieving the loss of my home, my friends and clients, and the california sunshine, we put our things in a pod and headed north.

We arrived with a plan to stay, temporarily, with my friend Polly while we got our bearings, found a place to live, and had a chance to settled in.  We thought it would be weeks.  It turned out to be months.  And while there were certain difficulties we faced not having our own space, being at Polly’s was another blessing among many that made our transition doable and relatively stress free (though i will say moving to another city and leaving behind a life you’re deeply connected to during your 8 month in pregnancy is in no way, stress-free!)  

Sa’id struggled to find work and I grew increasingly scared, and more and more uncomfortable as i neared the end of my pregnancy.  Looking back, with the perspective I now have, i know it was a time of turning things over to God in a deeper way than I had previously been able to do.  It was a time to deepen my faith and have trust that there is a beneficent being out there, that loves me completely and meets my every need.  In allowing Him to be the One in charge takes so much worry out of my days.  My heart has been cleaned and I walk now, in closer proximity to The One I call God. When I felt helpless, He brought help, when fearful He soothed my mind, and when confused about why I was spending my nights away from ‘Paradise’ (my old haunts) with no place of my own to nest in and worried about why nothing had yet to open for us, He encouraged patience within me.  Turns out He was, as always, right! 

During our stay, Polly and I rekindled our friendship, got to know each others beloved’s, and my husband and I were granted the holy offering of giving birth in their home since we had not yet found a place of our own (which was an incredible experience I will write more about later).  

Looking back on those stressful months, I barely recognize them as mine.  Here I am, seven months later, feeling more blessed than I could have ever imagined.  We have finally landed in our own place–a beautiful new condo in the heart of Irvington neighborhood here in Portland, a stones throw away from everything we could possibly ever need.  I have a great job which allows me ample time with Sa’id and the little guy, and Sa’id has started school for music production, a life long dream of his (and much to his surprise, he’s finding he’s very good, though I never doubted his talents for a second!), and together, our relationship is thriving.  

I never could have imagined what I had to gain in letting go of a life that no longer suited me and my best interest (at least for now — I do hope to one day return to the California sun!).  I thank you God, and each and every person that has pitched in, sent prayers and have befriended us in our transition.  We could not have done it without the help of so many.

This ache sits right in the center of my chest.  It’s tighter on the left than it is on the right and its turning in on itself, hiding, not wanting to be seen.  With this ache comes fear and inability to let you in, but also, to let me out.  And so I sit, feeling small, lost, not knowing which way to go.  Turning left then right, shall i go this way or that?  I get all turned up inside of myself, my words get lost, and I let go (but not in a surrendering to God and all thats Great letting go) –  I simply give up.  While I’m in this mode, I sit, slightly disconnected from my life, watching days turn into weeks and weeks into months (and time goes so fast)  – but is THIS REALLY HOW I WANT TO BE?  

No, its not how I want to be, not from the smallness inside, nor from the larger part of me that I am only sometimes aware.  The larger part longs for, and nudges me ever so patiently, towards transparency and vulnerability, waiting for a willingness to be nude (for the whole world to see).  It encourages being alive, awake – When dear one will you finally be ready to be free?  

What will it take I wonder, to finally live in the certainty, to remember to Remember more than I slip, or fall face first, into forgetfulness?  In answer to this question, I am only half hearing, but hearing none the less, the commentator of the music station I’m listening to talk about a book she recently picked up at the airport.  What makes us extraordinary? … Focus, determination and hard work…

And so it seems, the answer comes:  Stay focused, work hard and be determined to break free of this ache, this inertia, this numbness.   Allow it to buzz you into discomfort, long enough for it to break. “Open yourself up to the love that has been knocking at your door,” I hear.

“See what needs doing and do it,” more background noise…I read a note from a beloved encouraging me to keep writing. Get an email from another saying the same.  Just for tonight, I will trust these messages, and I will, despite the ache in my chest, open myself up.  I will keep writing and I will let your love in.  I will choose joy and laughter, light and love.

And with this new found trust in you, and myself, perhaps I will move closer to living in the awareness of the Larger me that isnt afraid or feeling small, ever.

My husband is currently on a quest to find out what he’d like to do with the next chapter of his life.  I suggested that perhaps the better question to ask himself is:  Who am I? which then led me to asking myself the same question.  

Here is the answer I recieved:

I am not what has been done to me.  I am not the bad things I have done.  I am not an INFJ, what the strength finders test has assessed,  nor a scorpio with pisces rising and a libra moon.  I am, under all of those layers of identity and personality, a child of God.  Which makes me a sacred and holy being of light and Love.  Love, with a capital L – the kind that amounts to more than a moment of warm and fuzzy in my heart when my husband smiles at me, or I hear my child laugh, or the feeling of contentment that comes when I know I have done my best.  

There is a teaching in our spiritual lineage which states:  ”You think you are a small star, when in fact you contain the entire universe…”  I now see that I am in fact, that universe.  A part which contains the whole and the whole that is also a small and important part.  

Sufi’s have a spiritual practice called Dhikr, which is also known as Remembrance.  During this practice, we call the name Allah, One God, into our hearts.  I used to think i did this practice so that I could Remember Him, but I can now see how He, in His generosity (al-Karim), has given us this practice to remember Him, so we can also remember who we actually are.  

My thoughts then led me to the order in Islam to pray five times a day.  We do not pray five times a day for Allah, as He does not need our prayers, we pray five times because we need Him.  And again in His wisdom (al-Hakim) and generosity (al-Karim), He knew we would forget Him AND who we truly are, therefore He gave to us an opportunity to stop, five times throughout our often over busy and stress filled days, to be the Love that He created us to be and so that we may remember who we truly are, for and in Him.

today is the day i’m starting the journey…MY FIRST BLOG…I’m not totally sure how exactly I got here tonight and started writing, but i’ll trust that it will be a place for me to meet, learn about, and continue my journey towards connecting with a larger circle, and sharing the insights that come through the comical, mundane and sometimes painful journey, of my life!

…today was tear-filled and those tears, for better or worse were long over due, therefore welcomed — I had a spat with my hubby which lead to a more than the usual tit for tat that typically encapsulates our worst days.  

Instead it was fully charged with anger, and insecurity run amok, which left us both feeling vulnerable and ‘delicate’ (our pee-wee word of the day).  And while we weathered the storm, i think there are still many layers of this particular place in our hearts that will continue to clear and heal over the next few days or weeks.  The place i’m speaking about is trust – or lack there-of – and the green-eyed monster that still has the power to occasionally wreck havoc on my otherwise confident self; and the crumbling feeling my husband experiences when he feels his integrity and character are called into question.  Once exposed, those tender places were violently dug up from their graves and in its it own way, undid each of us.  

He screamed, I ranted, and we both said things we later regretted.  it was brutal and raw and while quite uncomfortable and unexpected, did us both a bit of good I suspect.  Bec we’re both committed to this process of honesty and letting those tender places out to be loved, we are now holding on tightly to one another as we gently (and delicately) move closer together.  

I think this unwinding held a deep layer of healing for us both.  And while I cant speak for him, I know it helped me turn to face him (and myself) more completely and for that, I am grateful…Not to mention the fact that I’m now writing, after a long spell of creative drought, and so I give thanks for that mysterious piece of paper that lead to this mornings row, give gratitude for a man that constantly checks my insecurities and irrationalities, and will look forward to writing more on these topics and more next time!