Posts Tagged spiritual journey
This past week I attended a seminar presented by Saniel Bonder titled “The Sun in Your Heart is Rising–Activating Your Embodied Awakening, Wholeness, and Unique Purpose.” Nine people attended the five-day event at Kripalu Yoga Center in western Massachusetts. One of the exercises in the seminar is called “Heart Seat Share.” Each person in the group speaks for seven minutes about what is going on in their lives and their process of awakening with time allotted for feedback from the teacher and group members. I decided to write my heart share down and read it to the group.
Here I am. It’s my time to share. Please excuse me if I repeat some of the things I said in the small group. Wait a minute. I really don’t want to repeat myself. Why don’t I just check in with myself to see what’s happening. I can go deeper if I write this all down.
I imagine myself walking down a long flight of steps in my throat. I arrive on the first floor of my chest cavity.*
Leaving the first floor stairwell, I encounter a winding corridor with abrupt ups and downs spaced randomly for no apparent reason, maybe just to keep things interesting. Fortunately, I’m walking along a single corridor with no doorways or branches where I have to choose which way to go. I just need to put one foot in front of the other and have faith that these very same feet are taking me to a place I want to go.
Finally, I see a doorway in the distance. The overhead lighting becomes increasingly bright as I reach my destination. It’s a plain, wooden door, not a wrought iron gate, no carvings in the wood or lettering, not even a white coat of paint. I wonder why the door isn’t more elaborate. I’d certainly make it so if I were writing a story. But this is sharing. I don’t have to impress anyone with my incredible powers of imagination. I simply have to say how it is.
I grab the plain brass handle on the plain wooden door, turn it, and nothing happens. The door is firmly locked. I knock a few times and wait. Seconds go by and then a full minute. No response.
“Anybody home?” I call out.
Total silence. Not even the sound of air-conditioning.
“You know, I’ve come a long way to get here. The least you can do is answer the door.”
I’ve traveled this way many times before. I’ve come to realize this place is the door to my heart. No big discovery, no unique metaphor, just the plain old door to my heart.
I’ve been told by numerous teachers that someone or something dwells deep within the recesses of that heart. I’ve always believed this to be true. I never doubted it. Yet here I am, standing here like an idiot, all by myself. I’ve heard some vague rumblings from time to time from the other side of the door. I’ve had a few inklings, maybe even heard a few burblings, but that’s about it.
“This is getting embarrassing,” I say to the door. “I’m here in front of the class, and I need to sound halfway intelligent. Can you please give me some material to work with?”
“Like what?” a voice says from the other side of the door in a slightly irritated tone.
I almost fall down in place. These two words are more than I’ve heard in thirty years. It’s a clear, unmistakable, somewhat irritated voice. I quickly regroup before the voice loses interest. I must take advantage of this opportunity. I have to get right to the point. I imagine whoever is speaking to me is quite busy. I’m not even going to imagine if it has a shape. I can’t risk wasting its time.
“Okay,” I begin. “Can you tell me why we haven’t met yet?”
“It’s a very long story all having to do with you that we can’t get into now because it would exceed your share time.”
“Okay, okay. Well, then, can you tell me when it might be possible for us to meet.”
“I really can’t believe you haven’t figured this out yet,” the voice answers wearily. “I suppose I’ll have to spell it out for you.”
There is a long pause before the voice speaks again.
“You aren’t ready to meet me. And PUHLEASE, don’t ask me when you’ll be ready.
“You’ll be ready when you’re ready.”
“I feel like I’m getting ready,” I say like a little boy holding out a shiny apple for the teacher.
“Good. Keep it up. Let me give you one word of advice: Patience. Everything is timing. Have you heard that one?”
“Then practice it.
I wait for more words of wisdom. There are none forthcoming.
“Is that it?
“Yes, David. I must say you’re doing quite nicely. THE SUN IS ACTUALLY RISING IN YOUR HEART. Hang in there. You ain’t seen nuthin’ yet.”
*The first floor of my chest cavity is actually the highest floor in relation to my feet. The floors numbers increase as you take each flight of stairs down, which is the opposite case in most buildings.
**The construction of an elevator is underway. Please pardon our dust and debris while we make this a better living space for your comfort, convenience, and safety.
***Photo by http://www.thisarchitecture.com