Thank you for asking yesterday: How is your heart, dear Leny?
Do you know how rare it is that I get asked this question? And when you did, I got teary-eyed, just as I am tearing up now writing this. You see me; you are one of the few with this uncanny ability to know what I am thinking and feeling even when I am silent. You feel me even when you are on the other side of the Ocean.
And so it is that a week ago, you felt ‘tremors’ on my side of the world and you wondered what was going on. When I told you the facts and details of the story, you asked: but how is your heart, dear Leny? In the telling, I didn’t say anything about how I felt because I am one of those who tend to keep my feelings to myself…not in a secretive kind of way but because my feelings are sacred. You coaxed my heart to speak because for you it is not enough to know the story, you needed to know how I felt.
I think most people see me as reserved, rational, quiet, centered, not overly emotional, and gracious. I can pour out my feelings in my writing more than in face-to-face conversation. Writing gives me the space to touch the ground of Being and that is where the depths of my feelings often rest. So by the time something gets written and published, it has been soaked in tears, silence, and solitude. You understand this.
You, dear one, has responded to my written words. That is why you have been part of this Circle that has been weaving beautiful tapestries that makes us proud of being Whole and Beautiful. When you have been to my home, you have tasted the joy of my cooking. When we drove together to the Ocean on this side of the world, we always remembered to bring flowers as offering. We would chant, pray, laugh and then embrace in silence.
How is your heart, dear Leny?
My heart is Full. Grateful. Surprised. Challenged. Expansive. Breaking Open. Questioning.
My heart is tuning in to Something New. My heart senses that a Cave nearby is calling. Maybe it is a writing cave. Every book that I have given birth so far is the unfolding story of this path that has called us both. Perhaps the next book is being written on my body as Dance or Song in praise of the Holy in Nature.
You have been my teacher all long, Dear One. You have held your heart’s mirror to my heart. You see me.