“Every day we slaughter our finest impulses. That is why we get a heartache when we read those lines written by the hand of a master and recognize them as our own, as the tender shoots which we stifled because we lacked the faith to believe in our own powers, our own criterion of truth and beauty. Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths. We all derive from the same source. There is no mystery about the origin of things. We are all part of creation, all kings, all poets, all musicians; we have only to open up, only to discover what is already there." Henry Miller
Though we are strangers, there is a profound uniqueness in each of us that connects us together. It's a place where life passes through us, and we come alive. It's a space we meet our true selves and expand beyond the limitations and expectations of the past. It's home. But the one gift we have all been given often goes unnoticed because we are bombarded by the noise in everyday life.
We hold stagnant memories of the past in our short, shallow breaths and forget there is a great life force supporting us. Too busy to notice the beautiful colors of life, the stories we keep close create constriction rather than expansion.
Before writing Nowhere To Go, I had a hard time sitting in stillness. In retrospect, it all makes sense. I didn't love myself. It was far easier to blame others rather than look in the mirror to see the uncomfortable truths I was afraid to find. The stories I created were based upon conditions. Robert Grover calls them covert contracts in No More Mr, Nice Guy. If I treat you this way, I secretly expect x, y, and z.
I genuinely wanted to live with an open heart, but everything I did came with a hidden agenda. I loved but not to my potential because I never believed I was worthy enough.
Through the chaos of my own closed life, I have learned, love has no limitations or expectations. It flows freely like the streams of a river emptying into an ocean. If we can look at our lives from this view, we can expand our hearts, so it becomes easier to accept and live with the struggles that come our way.
To love ourselves amid hardship requires taking a step into the unknown. It requires feeling the pain of heartbreaks, betrayals, deaths, and other transitions that make us feel as if we are not enough.
Miller was correct in saying “Every man, when he gets quiet, when he becomes desperately honest with himself, is capable of uttering profound truths.” Because when we can come to a place of stilness in our lives, we can accept what is, let go of what does not serve us, and step into what the Universe is trying to show us.
Of course, it may appear easy for me as a writer to sit in stillness, but I can assure you it never gets easier; I just develop a better relationship with this part of me calling to expand. I do it through writing, meditation, working out, and going to nature. These practices are where I find the keys to the freedoms I seek in life.
You don't have to choose my practices. But you must find a place to go in your life that takes you to your edge. A unique practice where you will find the courage to see the truth of who you are.
Unlocking the doors to freedom doesn't happen overnight. You have to do it every day. In the act of stepping towards your edge, you lead with an open heart. Each time you do, you will experience a gift of life far beyond anything you could have ever imagined. This act of courage is what your heart needs.
After returning from fasting in Death Valley, one of the men asked me how I make it look so easy. He was stumped by my battle with demons in life. He suffered trauma as a young boy and I could see where he was coming from. This part of him afraid to come forward would scream to be seen. He wanted intimacy but could not figure out how to break free from a story that no longer served him. Each time he compared his demons to mine, or anyone else’s, he would lose himself in the story of the past preventing him, from living with an open heart.
A few days later, I explained my demons a bit deeper. Having grown up in an abusive household, I also struggled to let others in my life. I told him, my demons were a way of protecting my heart. I eventually came to see my way of running was seeing love as an enemy, not a mentor in life. In sex, I would control the scenes. When I dated, I pushed lovers away because I was afraid of being hurt again. These choices were all rocks in my stream preventing any chance of reaching the open waters of love.
But after Death Valley, the rocks slowly broke down. The demons are still with me, but they do not control me. My time in silence taught me to see that my heart was not broken, but more open than ever before.
You need your heart to be broken so that it can open. You need to trust yourself enough to sit in silence. You need to find your edge. When you do, hold yourself in these moments that challenge you. Invite your heart to play.
I am not saying you have to forget those that have harmed you, what I am saying is you can make the choice to move forward in life with an open heart so you can send ripples of love into the world.
Trust yourself. Trust love. Trust the unknown. This is the work we have all been put here to do on this earth. I believe in you.
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