Eyes of the Heart

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Nous in Greek means eye of the heart. It is the vision of our perception of soul. “Never forget that once upon a time a time, in an unguarded moment, you recognized yourself as your friend.” Elizabeth Gilbert.

Meggan Watterson, shares, “In that moment of recognition, that is when we save ourselves, from the self that was never real to begin with. This is the eye of the heart.”

I am reminded daily to try to come from this heart space, lest I forget is when I am most likely going to need to circle back around to offer an amends. I allowed my ego to use its vocabulary. Not always a wise choice, yet oh, such a human one. Happening when I'm on autopilot, not feeling into and pausing before I speak.

“Only Love undresses the ego. A new life means we can never return to our previous way of being in the world.” Meggan Watterson.

I’m not sure I have ever felt what Meggan describes so acutely as I did with the losses that have been mine. Each one whittling me down to a nub, stripping away any excess, the dross. Birthing me into a new realm beckoning me forward. Never allowing the luxury of turning back to what once was.

I sense this is what is so destabilizing when first faced with loss. Our beings are in a very strange and foreign land where we do not speak nor understand the tongue yet.

There is no turning back to our previous life. This is where the disconnect often first emerges within the initial rupture. We cannot recognize ourselves.

Everyone desires and hopes for the old and familiar self back. Including us.

It cannot and will never happen. 

A new way of being is inviting us forward, and these become the baby steps I heard so many women a few steps further along on the grief/healing path describing.

Mine resembled more Frankenstein movements. Stiff legged, awkward, inflexible, and not one bit pretty sadly to say.

Mercy pitched a tent for me inside my heart…handed me the stethoscope to press to the walls of it…until I heard all that this heart of mine clung to. This description by Meggan Watterson, is reminiscent of what was happening within my heart chambers.

What my heart was clinging to was what had been. This was paramount for its survival. It would have imploded to expect it to take on the magnitude of the loss all at once. It simply could not, nor was it meant to. This is when the brain fog, numbness, the feeling of being suspended outside of space and time creates a necessary and needed security blanket to gently enfold us within.

When, if, and how we emerge becomes the practice of each individual. No two metamorphosis will ever resemble another, nor should they. A right or wrong way does not exist.

Only our way.

If we want to live into what might be next what we truly desire for our lives, we can’t turn back to the old one. ~ MW

Oh, how I believed I wanted to turn back, truly I did.

Until I remembered my son’s daily struggle with addiction.

Acceptance has trickled in slowly over the almost eighteen years. I could not turn back requesting Douglas to be here one more day within the crippling disease of addiction.

He is free now, showing up, assisting others, and living more fully than ever before. Oh, how I wish it had not required him to shed his earth suit, yet sadly it did. This becomes living within the paradox of life, doing the Hokey Pokey, one foot in, one foot out.

*My gratitude for your presence here. If you like what you are reading, clicking on the heart at the bottom of the page helps me get this out into the ethers. Also, your comments are engaging, assisting our community, and please never hesitate if you feel called to pass any along to someone you are thinking of.