A lotus heart bounded up from nowhere really. Just to say hello. Just because it was there and it wanted to let me know.
It was Saturday and I was singing as I’m want to do. Not particularly well of course (no arias are born when my lips part). But I sing for love, not fame or money (and thank goodness for that!). And the love I sing for is my own and let’s just say the coffers are looking healthy right now…
So anyway, I’m singing and ringing my Tibetan bells (awakened from years of idleness) when the stanzas begin. And I’m losing myself in the masses of voices and the drums and double bass cello and keyboards and before long, there it is!
And what do I know from lotus hearts? Never seen one before and in actual fact, can’t really say I saw this one, except in the depths of that place I go when my eyes are closed and sound wells up. Have you ever noticed it’s possible to sing just that little more in tune when you put your heart in charge instead of your dorky old brain? And that’s what I was doing just then…
Short was the visit and sweet, so sweet. Just all blue-white crystal petals, thousands of them and yet so warm and porous and inviting. Breathing at me, it was. Of course.
Later as we sat contemplating silence and our thoughts, a few key words wafted by. Maybe on the tail of the scent of the lotus heart, perhaps?
Our breath is the one thing that’s with us from the moment we are born and it’s the last thing to leave us when we die. And it seems to me that each breath in between contains a little part of that first breath and a little part of that last breath…
And our thoughts are with us too, always. Our mind reaches out, racing and touches everything, so many things all at once and all of the time. How gently can we sit here, just watching our breath and our thoughts as we slowly reel in our racing mind, asking it just for once and just for now… to stop reaching. To allow all those things to touch the mind instead?
~from Michael, Zen Buddhist
Everything vanished, just for a moment. Perhaps it was more? Anyway, a space appeared. A gap. I think that’s the way the lotus heart went, too.
And I saw. Or I felt. Or perceived.
Nothing.
Or not nothing.
Because, I Am That.
Apparently.
~Svasti
Racing monkey mind have I but I was comforted in the core of my being to see the vivid green of the heart chakra. My heart once again needs healing. I will be back…
“Have you ever noticed it’s possible to sing just that little more in tune when you put your heart in charge instead of your dorky old brain?” This is totally what yoga is about, right? But it is so hard to bow your brain to your heart…
@Christa – Maybe part of being human is always needing more healing and more love for our heart? Until we can abide comfortably with our own lotus heart…
@RB – True, which is why I can experience it in moments only (for now). Although, isn’t this the difference between good singers and really great singers? The ones who let their heart run the ship while they sing?
Hi Svasti ~ I found your writing so calming. I worked with a violinist once who never practiced, but simply played from his heart. He was John Giordiardis, lead violinist with the London Symphony Orchestra…his playing always made me want to laugh and cry at the same time.
xhenry
@soulMerlin – I’ve just fixed this post. I forgot to include a reference to the person who said the words in italics. But the rest was all my experience. And I found Michael’s words very compelling and relatable. Anyway, I’m glad you find these words (mine and Michael’s) to be calming. I think we all learn this over time… anything that comes from the heart and not the head is infinitely beautiful. When we allow it to be, eh?