Do you turn to your heart when making decisions?

The world’s traditions are filled with poignant lessons that point to the wisdom of the heart. We learn from the sages that the voice of the heart will always tell us the right way to go in any situation.

In the ancient Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, when the sage Yajnavalkya is asked, “Where is the locality of truth?” he answers, “In the heart, for by the heart man knows truth.”

When you are attuned to your heart, you will know the appropriate response to any situation—whether to make a sacrifice for someone else or draw the line, whether to listen or say “enough,” whether to take a stand or let an issue go, whether to leave a relationship or hang on.

Instead of turning to our heart, though, we sometimes make our decisions based on how our defensive ego feels today or what our mind rationally tells us conforms to the rules of right and wrong we’ve grown up with.

Follow the Rules . . . or Follow Your Heart?

This tale from the Hasidic tradition of Judaism shows that rigidly defending the ego or following society’s rules and expectations can close down our capacity to respond wisely from our heart.

Every week a respected rabbi celebrated a weekly Sabbath meal with friends and students. One week, a new guest showed up. As the meal got underway, those attending looked with disdain on the newcomer, who was sloppily dressed and a bit crude. On top of it, seemingly without respect for the rabbi, the man pulled a large radish out of his pocket and gnawed away at it loudly. The rabbi, however, seemed not to notice.

One of the rabbi’s students, unable to stand it any longer, turned to the man and was about to reprimand him when the rabbi interrupted and said, “You know, I wish I had a nice big radish to eat with this wonderful meal.” Hearing the teacher’s words, the new guest reached into his pocket, pulled out another radish, and handed it to his host, who gave him a big smile and thanked him for his kindness.

Simple stories like this are full of symbology. This one tells us that when we catch ourselves judging our own or another’s behavior, we might just need to let the walls we’ve erected come crashing down so we can bask in the light of the heart.

Here’s another lesson that once again shows the power of the heart, this one handed down from the desert fathers, the Christian monks who lived as hermits in the deserts of Egypt. It tells of two young monks who once asked Abba Poemen what he thought they should do if they caught other monks asleep during prayer time. “Shouldn’t we pinch them to make them stay awake?” said the monks, bothered by this apparent disrespect of their holy ritual. “Well,” replied Abba Poemen, their more seasoned brother, “if I come across a brother who is sleeping, I place his head on my knees and let him rest.”

Sometimes the best choices we can make and the best gifts we can give are the ones that violate the rules we have about right and wrong.

Problem Solve from the Heart

The sages teach that being still and centering in our hearts can lead us to the best solutions to any problem. When you are facing a knotty issue or are just confused about what choice to make, look at it from a heart perspective.

• Pick your favorite technique for centering in your heart before making a decision. If you don’t already use a technique, you can simply close your eyes, breathe deeply, and then visualize and feel a flame burning brightly in your heart. You can also recall an experience that makes you feel happy or grateful—a memory that makes the flame in your heart burn more intensely.

• Once you feel a sense of joy or peace, turn back to the issue at hand.

• Ask yourself: What is the best way for me to resolve this issue? What is my next step?

• Then listen for the answer that arises.

Stillness creates strength.

Does that seem like a paradox to you? It did to me the first time I encountered that concept, but that’s because I was convinced of this myth:

Myth: Staying busy and constantly running to do more means I am strong—and successful.

The Truth: Stillness creates strength (and busyness does not always equal success).

The adrenaline surge you get from moving at fast speeds can give you a high for a while, but movement alone will not keep you at your peak. Hours of activity must be balanced with space for stillness.

Why? Constant busyness without taking time to renew yourself—your body and your spirit—is like driving a car that’s almost out of gas and pretending it is full. You can push the petal to the metal for a few more miles, and even run on fumes for a bit, but then the engine sputters and spits—and splat, you’re stranded.  (And when it comes to our bodies, it’s not always a simple matter of filling up the tank and we’re on the road again. If we push our bodies and minds too hard for too long and don’t balance our work with rest and renewal, it may take a while to get up and running again.)

Better to fill up your internal energy before your tank is empty. And one of the best ways to do that is to simply be still.

Not easy to do in these jam-packed days when our minds are more like jumping beans or, as Eastern wisdom describes it, like monkeys who can’t sit still. The incessant chase, and chatter, won’t stop unless we realize what the great sages taught centuries ago: the stillness we most need and long for is stillness of mind. Constant mental agitation, cogitation, worrying, planning, questioning, and then more worrying—these can tax our energy resources much more than we realize.

Invite a Creative Pause

There is a time for action and there is a time for stillness. A time to take in new ideas and a time to be quiet and listen to your own inner voice. That’s what the sages tell us. Take, for example, this advice from the ancient Chinese book of wisdom called the I Ching and its commentaries:

“ ‘Restlessness as an enduring condition brings misfortune.’  There are people who live in a state of perpetual hurry without ever attaining inner composure. Restlessness not only prevents all thoroughness but actually becomes a danger if it is dominant in places of authority.” (Wilhelm/Baynes, p. 129)

• In the ebb and flow of your week, do you allow your mind to rest—without the demands and dictates of your lengthy to-do list? Do give yourself permission to just be—to savor the moment and not worry about what you want to have happen in the future or are afraid will happen?

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to affirm with the great Bengali poet Rabindranath Tagore each day: “There are tracts in my life that are bare and silent. They are the open spaces where my busy days had their light and air.”

Being still is not just essential to staying sane; it’s a key that opens the door to your inner creativity. Tending to details and taking action are important, but to be really effective we need to insert a pause in our day. Those pauses for “light and air” are interludes where you can open to the inner promptings that are trying to bubble up from the wellspring deep within you.

If you don’t welcome those moments of stillness, how can you hear the whispers of your soul, telling you of the endless possibilities that await you?

Some thoughts to help you reflect on creating space for stillness:

• How have you experienced the paradox that stillness is what gives you more strength and power

• How can you intentionally create interludes of stillness, of “light and air,” in your day? (Quiet time alone, meditation, listening to calming music, playing an instrument, doing yoga or Chi Gung, walking in nature, visiting a sacred place?)

• How can you help the important people in your life make time for the stillness they need too?

• Do you have a favorite inspirational quote that reminds you of the power of stillness?

Okay, you might think rescue is a strong word. Let’s put it this way: Are you waiting for permission from anyone or anything to do what you need to or want to do? Do you continue to blame others for making you feel unhappy, unfulfilled, unsuccessful, sad, or lonely—and do think that if only they would change, you could start living the way you want to? Then you’re waiting for a rescuer.

We’re all do it. It’s how fast we snap out of it that counts.

We’re all tempted to blame others for how we feel or for how our day is going—and to think that someone else can fix it by coming to our rescue. And most of the time, it’s easier by far to grumble and complain than to stand up and take action for ourselves.

But taking hold of the reins of your life isn’t about what’s easy. It’s about acting on what’s true for you.

I’m always amazed to watch in my own life how this idea of waiting for a rescuer can creep in and lurk around without me realizing it, especially when I let myself get tired or run down or overwhelmed with work. But then I suddenly realize: Who is choreographing how I spend my days? Who is dictating how I fill my time? Who is saying yes and who is saying no? Me, of course.

Taking back your choices

The cornerstone of honoring yourself is taking back the choice for how you feel and what you will do with the moments of your life.

If you believe that it is someone else’s job to “rescue” you, you will continue to accept less than the best for yourself. Because you’re operating in passive mode. You’re abdicating one of the most important rights and powers you have: freedom of choice.

Ralph Waldo Emerson said it this way: “A political victory, … the recovery of your sick, or the return of your absent friend, or some other favorable event, raises your spirits, and you think good days are preparing for you. Do not believe it. Nothing can bring you peace but yourself.”

What happens if we depend on the changing events that come and go in our lives—up and down, up and down—to make us feel at peace? Then we’ll be constantly going up and down too. Handing over the choice for how you feel to someone else is like taking a long, bumpy ride on an out-of-control roller coaster when you should be in the driver’s seat of your own car. Or like accepting a supporting role in someone else’s drama when you should be playing the leading role in your own life story.

Three Steps for Stepping Out of the Blame Game

When you find yourself continuing to blame anyone for anything, you can be sure you have been duped by the subtle and insidious myth that the determining factors in your life are outside of yourself—that someone else is responsible to fill you up or to fix what’s making you unhappy. (And, if you look up the word “victim” in the dictionary, you’ll find that one of its definitions is just that—someone who has been duped.)

Here are some steps you can take to turn blame into a more empowering way of life:

1. Become aware of when you’re taking the easy way out by blaming.

What are some symptoms that you are doing this (besides kicking and screaming)? Complaining and pouting are often forms of blame. Feeling depressed can be a symptom too—a feeling of powerlessness.

2. The next time you find yourself asking in your head or aloud, “How could he/she/it do this to me? What’s wrong with them? How can I get them to change so I can get what I need?” try living with this affirmation instead:

The choice for what happens next in my life is always my own. My choices, my attitudes, and my actions will determine how I respond/act/feel.  I have the power to make a new and higher choice instead of waiting for someone else to rescue me.

No matter what circumstances you are in, no matter what has gone before, you always have the power to make a new choice, a new response—starting now.

3.Then always take a practical step. Make another choice besides complaining or being passive, and act on it.

Instead of complaining about something you aren’t happy with—or inviting friends (or anyone who will listen) to a pity party—reflect on what you are in control of. Ask yourself:  In this situation, what ARE all my choices? What can I (not the others involved) do?

An example: You might not be able to change the people who are hounding you, but you can still draw boundaries and take care of yourself.  It’s not someone else’s job to fill you up, and you don’t need anyone’s permission to do that job yourself. Only you can know when it’s time to take a break or put on your favorite music and relax. You’re the only one who can say no to your best friend’s invitation because you want to be alone this weekend. You’re the only one who can leave a job or relationship because it’s no longer right for you.

Grandma Moses, the twentieth-century American folk artist who started painting in her seventies and lived until she was 101, was a testament to the power of choice. “If I didn’t start painting, I would have raised chickens,” she said. “Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be.”

To take away . . .

• Blame holds you hostage. Only you can rescue yourself.
• We’re all tempted to blame others when things don’t feel good. It’s how fast we snap out of it that counts.
• A cornerstone of honoring yourself is taking back the choice for how you feel and what you will do with the moments of your life.

. . . And to act on

• Are you blaming anyone for how you’re feeling today? What choice will you make to stop waiting for a rescuer and take back ownership of the moments in your life?

This post is based in part on material from Patricia Spadaro’s award-winning book, Honor Yourself: The Inner Art of Giving and Receiving. Read more about the book. Buy at Amazon.com

Stephen, 34, was just getting off his night-shift duty and on his way home when he heard that the first tower was struck on 9/11. He rushed back to respond. He couldn’t drive through the Brooklyn Battery Tunnel, so he strapped his 65 pounds of gear to his back and ran through the tunnel to reach the towers. He never returned.

Here’s what his brother said today: “I’ll tell you what Stephen taught us all that day, that you don’t run away—you run at your problems. You go right after it; you do what you’re supposed to do.”

Stephen is survived by his wife and five children. His brother Frank now runs the Tunnel to Towers Foundation, which holds a run retracing his heroic brother’s final steps each year on 9/11 to raise money for children who have lost a parent, firefighters, and military who have been seriously injured in the line of duty. More than 25,000 people are expected to take part in the New York City run on this tenth anniversary of 9/11. And more than 50 cities also held the run this year.

This story, like the legacy of so many others of that day, is inspiring beyond any words I could write here. Thank you, Stephen, and all who risked your lives to save others.

And thank you, Frank—and everyone who takes part in that run—for showing us how to turn pain into REAL power for good. For showing us how to honor the legacy of love. For turning this tragedy into an opportunity to do great things. This is how we heal.

Check out the site at tunneltotowers.org

The dreaded doldrums. We’ve all been there—feeling stagnant or stuck, down and out or depressed.

Did you know that that word doldrums also describes an area of the world just north of the equator where the trade winds meet. It’s a place that can be either very calm or have very severe weather. In the still weather, with no wind, the progress of sailors can be delayed for days or weeks—sending captain and crew into the doldrums.

Whereas those sailors can do little but wait, fortunately we can do something about our own case of the boring doldrums. That’s especially true if you just don’t have a clue why you’re in a slump.

Of course, I’m not saying there is, or should be, a quick fix for the deep problems that throw us into a funk. But sometimes when we’re feeling gloomy or down or uninspired, it’s just a matter of giving ourselves a little self-prescribed kick in the pants. And it’s often completely counterintuitive. Here’s what I mean:

If you have a serious job with lots of responsibilities, push yourself to be playful. Go take a break where there are lots of children. Play some games. Watch a kid’s movie and let yourself laugh.

If you are constantly around a lot of people, schedule a solitude date—with yourself, by yourself—in a quiet place.

If you tend to sit a lot (in front of a desk or the TV), force yourself to move. Take your friend up on their invitation for a free guest pass to their zumba class at the gym. Or just turn on your favorite radio station and dance your heart out.

Lost your taste for life? Tickle your taste buds. Treat yourself to a totally different kind of food than you normally eat. Try some Indian tikka masala or a Thai curry (grocery stores often have jars of premade ethnic sauces, so it’s not hard to do).

If you’re a literature enthusiast, pick up a copy of Popular Science or Field and Stream. Soak your brain in something entirely new—something that is the very opposite of what you are habitually attracted to.

You get the idea.

If you want to sail out of the doldrums—or even to stimulate your creativity during a dry spell—you need to give yourself a jump-start. You have to jump out of the molds you find yourself in day after day, night after night. You have to get yourself into a new groove.

When you’re in the doldrums, you have to be daring.

Put some wind in your sails by choosing to do something completely different today. What will it be?

For your inspiration:
Here’s some advice on getting unstuck from the ever-wise Ralph Waldo Emerson: “Nature abhors the old. . . . In nature every moment is new; the past is always swallowed and forgotten; the coming only is sacred. Nothing is secure but life, transition, the energizing spirit. . . . People wish to be settled; only as far as they are unsettled is there any hope for them.”

That’s what I wrote about in my new article in the wonderful Creations Magazine (New York), April/May issue.  Read the full article below or at their site.

(P.S. I took this picture one spring in my garden. It was so symbolic and uplifting to me . . . after a long, cold winter, the daffodil leaves resiliently slicing through those old, dead leaves. Nothing could stand in their way. It made me wonder: How can I be more like that?)

Here’s the article:

WHAT ARE YOU GIVING BIRTH TO?

I was about to turn onto a busy four-lane street, when I saw a red Mustang stopped in one lane with a string of impatient drivers behind it. I thought the girls in the car must have been having engine trouble, but as I made my turn into the traffic, the car in front of me suddenly slammed on its breaks, stopping at the same spot those girls had. What was going on?

Then I saw it. For one long, sweet, breathtaking moment, I watched a speckled mama duck proudly waddle across the lanes with a dozen fluffy ducklings falling over each other to keep up with her. They tumbled onto the curb in beautiful disarray like something out of slapstick routine as the mama pushed ahead in pursuit of safety. Thank God for careful drivers, I thought. And thank God for mothers.

That heart-opening moment made me think about the fragile things in our lives and our own role as mother.

We are all mothers. In each of us, there is something young and tender that needs guidance, nurturing, and even the fierce protection of our love so it can grow to its fullest and express itself. Identifying what that is, I realized, can help us play our role of mother better.

Maybe what you’re giving birth to is a new habit or talent that needs shaping and support. Perhaps it’s a mission-driven project waiting to see the light of day or an ending that needs tending to so you can move on to new opportunities.

What’s the next part of you waiting to be born? And are you giving it the focus and attention it needs? Or are you too busy to recognize what it is or hear its voice?

Are You Listening to Yourself?

Abraham Maslow talked about the importance of being able to hear our own “inner-feeling-voices.” “An important part of self-knowledge,” wrote the prominent psychologist, “is being able to hear clearly these signals from the inside.” Many of us, however, have been trained to ignore our inner signals or put other things or people first. Yet honoring our inner impulses is what puts us in touch with our real purpose and makes us excited to share our passions—to give birth to the next stunningly beautiful part of ourselves.

If you’re one of those people (like me) who is better at giving to others than to yourself, it can take conscious intention and practice to listen for what your own inner voice is telling you. One thing that helps me get reconnected is to literally listen to my voice—to listen to how I am speaking rather than what I am saying.

We use this skill all the time to read others. We know a friend is upset or burdened when we hear her voice crack. We know our children are happy when they are animated and speak quickly. If we call a parent and we hear a listless voice at the other end of the phone, we know something is wrong. The tone tells it all.

While we’re accustomed to reading others in this way, we can get so caught up in what’s happening around us that we forget to listen to ourselves. Yet listening is what gives us valuable clues about how we can best mother that part of us trying to be born. If, for instance, you catch yourself sounding grumpy, impatient, or tired, it’s probably time to ask, “What am I feeling and what do I need? What can I do to honor myself right now so I can give my best gifts to others?”

Likewise, when you catch that lilt of excitement in your voice or hear yourself happily whistling or humming away, take note. What are you doing or thinking about that is making your heart sing? That’s what can bring more joy into your life—and the lives of others—when you give birth to it again and again.

When you’re too busy to focus on what’s really important in your life, the part of you that is budding can become smothered instead of mothered. To honor the nascent potential within you, practice asking yourself:

• What am I being called to give birth to, to mother, to bring to fruition?

• What is whispering within me to be recognized, nurtured, and protected?

• What choices can I make today to give that delicate, emerging part of myself what it needs to blossom?

Have you stumbled upon any signs or symbols in unexpected places lately—messages meant just for you?

I have. I’ve been taking some time this summer to contemplate my next projects and have been working my way through folders and folders of ideas—scraps of paper with ferocious scribbles, printouts of articles, notes, and quotes I slavishly save. In one folder, stuffed between some odds and ends, were what looked like two sheets of scrap paper I had folded in half to take notes on (I’m big on re-using paper).

One of the pages was totally blank, but the other held a surprise—an unexpected message that had waited nine years for me to rediscover.  I could see the date at the bottom of the second sheet, showing me it was one of those extra blank pages you get when you print out an email. When I unfolded it, though, I saw four words at the top staring back at me: “You Are Dearly Loved!”

I drew in a deep breath and let out a big sigh. I needed that reminder. . . thanks. I really had been hard on myself that week, feeling that I wasn’t producing fast enough.

That same week, as I was looking through another stack of papers, I saw that I had mistyped part of the name of a magazine article I had written down. Instead of “Go Ahead” I had written “God Ahead.” Ah—another message, reminding me that I wasn’t alone, I didn’t have to struggle so darn much, and the guidance I was looking for was right there, just ahead.

Of course, I’ve known for a long time that signs, symbols, and messages—like an intricately designed spiritual feedback loop created personally for us—are all around if we watch and listen for them. But in my panic to push myself, I needed a reminder, and there it was. I knew it wasn’t a mistake to see those two messages just a few days apart.

These signs, divine direction, if you will, come in all shapes and sizes. It may be as simple as turning the page of a magazine and having a headline pop out as if it were speaking directly to you. Or waking up with a string of words in your head. Or walking by a message a child scrawled in the sand that answers the very question you’ve been pondering. Or getting a busy signal over and over when you call to make a certain appointment, showing you that this isn’t the right next step.

(By the way, if you’re looking for a good book with an interesting take on working with signs and symbols, check out Decoding the Spiritual Messages of Everyday Life by Dr. Paul DeBell, a New York psychiatrist who shows how to use rational techniques to detect and decipher the feedback we receive from the deeper dimensions of life.)

- What signs or symbols have you stumbled upon in unexpected places?
- Where have they led you?
- Are you watching and listening for them?

Join the conversation and share your thoughts . . .

Come to think of it, her life is chock full of “firsts.” It was probably the first summer she had ever gotten her face painted and even the first time she had ever stopped by a book signing. It was certainly the first time she was able to read the words off the pages of my new book (she really is reading in that picture!).

Running through all those “firsts” with her was refreshing. After all, that’s what puts the sparkle into life, isn’t it—experiencing new things, or at least doing the things we do as if we are touching, feeling, tasting, and seeing them for the first time?

As I started the new year and pondered the goals I would set for myself, my mind wandered back to my new friend. I asked myself: How many simple and joyful “firsts” had entered my life last year? How many was I banking on this year?

Opening Up to the New and Wonderful

I realized in that moment that we don’t have to be a little child to keep counting our “firsts.” Our new experiences don’t have to stop when we’re 10 years old or 30 or 60 or even 90. In fact, whether it’s biting into a juicy, new kind of fruit we’ve never tasted before or sharing a moment of laughter with a chance acquaintance, it’s the “firsts” that keep the excitement in our eyes and the skip in our step.

I suspect that’s part of what the sages of East and West meant when they talked about “becoming as a little child.” You’ve heard those famous lines from Jesus before: “Whosoever shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven” and “Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child, he shall not enter therein.”

As it turns out, Taoists sages use similar language as they inspire us to become like an “infant” or “the uncarved block.” Those images are ideals for living life as it is meant to be. The infant is a model for returning to simplicity and being fully receptive, exploring life anew without preconceived notions—being childlike in the most beautiful and sensitive sense of the word. Continuing to delight in new “firsts” helps us to hold on to our sense of wonder and delicious expectation. To experiment, open up, and see things in new ways.

Cultivating that refreshing sense of newness and adventure may take some deliberate effort. It’s all too easy to fall into the sameness of our  habits. But if you think about it, there are a myriad of ways to invite new experiences into your life.

You can listen to a different kind of music, paint a brand-new piece of pottery, or watch an entirely new genre of movie or a foreign film. You can try your hand at a new sport or game, intentionally tune in to a program with a different political slant than you usually listen to,  or invite a new acquaintance over for dinner. How about cooking an exotic food you’ve never tasted before or taking a short trip to a nearby town or wilderness area you’ve never visited, slowly savoring the new sights, sounds, and smells. Or simply bite into an ice cream cone with a zany new flavor you never imagined possible.

As for me, I’m not quite ready for skydiving, but learning some Spanish and some new dance steps sounds like a lot of fun! Hola!

Honor yourself—your childlike self—by trying this:

• Without holding yourself back or filtering out any possibilities that come to mind, write down a list of “firsts” you’d like to savor.

• Ask yourself what new acquaintances you want to spend time with and write that down too.

• Add a new “first” to your to-do list each week or month. Instead of collapsing on the weekend into your usual routine, spice things up.

• Take some time after your new “first” to reflect on what you experienced, how it made you feel, what you learned.

• Put a reminder on your calendar in two months to revisit your list of “firsts” and add to it.

What are the “firsts” on your list this week/month/year? I’d love to hear about them. If you have a moment, share them with us by leaving a comment!