Rewiring the Heart

CALIFORNIA, U S A

I have been studying the idea of rewiring the heart (my heart) and how it is different from rewiring the brain.

I am seeing that my heart has always been a certain way; deep, wide, sensitive, and big — literally and figuratively. I saw an X-ray of my heart years ago and was blown away by the actual size of it.

I love my heart. It does not tiptoe; it dives into the deepest deep without much ‘thought’. It feels so much. It feels everything simultaneously sometimes that I can’t discern where the beauty, excitement, and joy begin and the pain, loneliness, and sorrow end. It’s all in there together in this big swirling universe and it all just wants to gush out and be embraced by the rays of the sun.

Of course, I have realized that because of my empathic nature and my subconscious agreement with the universe to take on more than my fair share of the world’s pain and trying to transform it is one of the reasons for this simultaneous cacophony of emotion that filters through me. But that is another article entirely.

I’m thinking that perhaps what has worked for me in the realm of love and heart matters in the past is no longer fitting. That a rewiring of sorts needs to occur. That my heart must, in a sense, ‘grow up’.

Can we create new pathways in the heart as we can create new neural pathways in the brain?

Perhaps the diving isn’t working and this heart needs to take a step back and be more discerning. But when I think of this it makes me feel like I’m compromising who I am, how my heart really is and is meant to be. I’m almost ‘proud’ of my heart and its capacity to love and be hopelessly romantic and feel all this emotion. Sitting with it, feeling into it, and recognizing it for what it is may help in naturally transforming some of the nuances and depth of feelings.

My thoughts were that perhaps the mind and the heart need to work together more to create some sort of balance. That maybe I needed to go back and study the nature of all my relationships and how most of the time I have dived in it’s been a drowning almost? Though the drowning is a full immersion in unbridled devotion and adoration of the other, the brain needs to step in and be a bit more discerning and communicate that to the heart; learn the lesson.

I don’t like the phrase ‘be careful’ when it comes to my heart and love. I innocently just want to experience the whole thing. I want to extract all the juice out of it, get messy, and take a huge delicious bite. My heart has definitely won over my brain 99.9% of the time. But what about our wounds, our pasts that have influenced the way we love, how much we let in, and how much we turn away? Our hearts hurting, our brains constantly adjusting our thoughts and reactions to ‘protect’ us.

I don’t want a boundary set up around my heart. I want to see the other and be seen fully — blood, guts and all, down to the core. My heart doesn’t understand moderation, discernment, and logic. Does it need to grow up? Does it need to realize that this is what causes huge wounds if it engages too fully? No, I don’t believe that’s it. Perhaps I’ve just not been met. Where are the hearts out there like mine?

After all this questioning I then learned that scientists have actually discovered that the brain and heart do indeed influence each other and that there is a constant dialogue occurring between the two. Out of all the organs in the human body, the heart generates the largest electromagnetic frequency. Sixty times greater than the brain in fact. It is infinitely more intelligent than the brain. To be emotionally intelligent means to be heart-based, sensitive. Apparently, the heart communicates with the brain and body in a few different ways: neurologically via the nervous system, energetically, physically, and chemically via hormones. The different signals that the heart sends to the brain alter its functioning. So, there it is; they do help each other and work together. Focusing your attention on heart healing indeed creates a new pathway and communicates to the brain to create more positive thoughts. That is fascinating and encouraging.

Maybe I am delving into a huge analytical process at this juncture of my journey because I’m just plain old scared of being hurt…again. The pain of heartbreak has been so much. Way too familiar and maybe I’m just simply fearful now. It’s almost like I expect to go down this inevitable road of suffering every time my heart opens. But I’m sure that’s probably an old story cycling around in my subconscious.

As I acknowledge all the work I have done to release the old ingrained patterns and focus physically, mentally, and energetically on my heart and intend for its healing so will my thoughts transform?

In my attempt to take an honest look at this — learn, grow, I realize that it all just needs to be seen and not pushed away or denied in any way. That it’s all ok. I’m not special, my heart is not as fragile as I think it is. It’s just my ego that identifies with the stinging pain of loss, heartbreak, and pain. When I feel that twinge of longing, sorrow, loneliness, fear, or great unrequited love, to be fully with it, to honor it and not hold on to it, rejoice in it even! And then let it fly so my heart can expand and regrow its own wings and be ready to receive and embrace the true reflection of what it is; big, beautiful, deep, juicy, and alive! And then build a bridge to my brain affirming all this so I can function, even thrive!

What do you think? How does your heart operate? Has it evolved and changed the more experience you’ve had? Have you consciously considered how it would be to ‘rewire’ it? Does your heart win? Can you feel it communicating with your brain and your other organs?

Notes From the Other Side of the Bed

CALIFORNIA, U S A


I slept on the other side of the bed last night. Laying claim to it seemed appropriate, as you would not be returning.

I stirred every couple of hours. The stinging realization of losing you each time I rose to the surface of my consciousness.

An instant pang of anxiety. An emptiness in my belly. An ache in my heart.

In the morning when I awoke, the twinge in my side rudely reminded me of my aloneness. As I unwound from the fetal position I’d held all night. My eyes, teary once more, greeted me with a salty swollen silence.

Though something beckoned to me from beyond the emotion, beyond the tide of sadness, forbidding me to lose myself. Urging me to see through the sorrow, for out of it was to come an unfurling of vicissitude, a kaleidoscope of motion.

It was only in the memory of that which had passed did my heart feel weighted down.

With a breath, the wild undulation of joy and sorrow that was, softly rippled into a calm hush within and I could see myself as one with the glassy surface of a lake, with trees and clouds and birds reflected inward. The water seeping downward. Gently eroding. Smoothing out the prickly edges. Nature taking its course. Until it made its way to the core. Penetrating the shell that had been waiting for nourishment.

For eons, it had patiently endured. Unstirred by the hands of time. Sure of what would eventually come.

Codes awaken, one cell at a time. They turn to the light and blink with immaculate awareness. Wise in their innocence. Trusting that this time the fullness of love will find them.

My body uncurls. Slowly and gently I stretch. It’s a courageous move to extend my arms away from my heart, exposing it to the blinding luminescence of day.

Legs unfold. Feet find their way to the floor, from the other side of the bed which seems so far away – like you always felt – even as you lay there next to me.

I’d marvel at you; the indentation in your upper lip. The little grey hairs in your beard. Your dark eyelashes. Your profile. As you lay there, motionless on your island, like a corpse. And I would respect you in your sovereign stillness. Every last hair on your body. Even though I wanted to hold your hand, rest my head on your shoulder.

Your beautiful skin, like silk. You would say mine was like moonlight, and you were my sun. Then finally you would turn and smile and sometimes you would say you were glad to wake up next to me, but only sometimes. And sometimes it felt sweet. And sometimes it felt bitter. Feeling your denial. A veiled sadness you held beneath hour ribs. The stubborn anxiety you tried to conceal under your skin.

I sensed every last fragment; feigning detachment from the effect it had on me but it seeped into the cracks and lay there, carving a chasm between us.

And I would remain patient, hopeful, gracious, compassionate. In constant adoration of your endearing heart. Content to have you near enough but not as close as I desired. Not pushing. Not demanding more; time, sex, depth, surprise.

Accommodating your practicality, your sensibility, your schedule, your hesitation, and your realism which sometimes inspired and fascinated and at times frustrated. Whilst I dreamed of romance and enchantment and swimming deeper than your ocean would allow.

And often you would delight and amaze in your essence.

I remember chocolate ice cream and kisses on hills at sunset. Your sweet nakedness; moments of innocent willingness to dissolve your fear and just be. There I found an openness allowing closeness. Pure and real. And I treasured you as oftentimes I felt you treasured me.

I would ignite and delight in you, and your mention of the future; of us. I took it all to heart and I thought you did too.

And now I take it all apart and my life and my body are only mine once more, just like yours always only was, and the surrounding mood in my room and all around me is flat and still and dull and quiet.

The space behind my eyes holding memories and a twinge of longing. Recalling what I gave and wanted and waited for. The faith that you would come around and take my hand and tell me you were in; not in too deep or halfway in, but into me, us, together, as you were in our beginning.

And I softened, opened, after being closed for so long. Your sweetness and kindness, a welcome relief from the harsh neglect of times past.

But beginnings dissolve away. Vacillate. Open and close. Shift from light to dark. Fear and doubt preventing the truth of what could be. No way to see what we were without it. Leaving me alone, confused, resigned.

I hold my breath before the next wave. Anticipate my solitude once more, of which I am most accustomed; strong, self-sufficient. An expert like I’ve always been.

The moments that were filled with you and my excitement of holding you near, emptied, for me to consider anew.

And now it is night again.

I bow to our coming together and our falling away. And to you and all you were and wanted to be.

I beheld your efforts, your care and tenderness. Your steadfastness. Your willingness to help and support. To soothe and heal. It was heartwarming and kind. Rare and new.

My tears flow as much for our joy as they do for the longing of wanting more time: to deepen, learn and grow with you.

I am grateful for knowing your generous heart your brilliance, your essence.

Farewell, dear man, from the other side of my bed.

Create your website with WordPress.com
Get started