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?

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!