Hearts

and new eyes

Photo credit to mindfulkauai.com

When I was a child, my dad took our family to New York City to a Cinerama production that was absolutely mesmerizing. One scene has stayed with me ever since. It was of a train going the wrong way at dizzying speed, backwards down a mountain. It is the only scene I remember.

I feel like I am back in the theatre seat, only this time witnessing different scenes for which the train experience is a metaphor.

The word “heartless” surprised me when it popped into my head a few days ago as I was thinking about the many events happening in this country and the world. It actually had a shocking effect.

It is as if the notion, the existence, the leading and presence of heart and of individual hearts have been left at the top of a mountain. It feels like there has been a traumatic disconnection from what is meant to guide, bring, hold us together, and keep us moving forward to the best that we can be.

So much of what I am witnessing fills me with the same sensations I experienced in my that childhood theater seat. Sheer disbelief, fear, and a desperate hope that the course can be reversed.

There’s also a sense of adrenalin that rushes in, wanting to “stop the train,” but not knowing how and not wanting to imagine the ending.

I do not want to stay long in “heartless.” I resist it with all the strength I have, expecting better. Not perfect, not without significant struggle even, and differences - but not heartless.

I want to be part of a train that goes in a direction guided by the heart, even when it is far from easy and even appears impossible.

We know from research that the heart speaks to the brain more than the brain speaks to the heart. It is an astounding understanding if and when we choose to sink into it. (If you are not acquainted with The Heart Math Institute, I recommend exploring their work.)

I treasure and am gratefully reminded of a story shared by Rachel Remen, M.D. in her book, “My Grandfather’s Blessings: Stories of Strength, Refuge and Belonging.”

It is a story I shared when consulting with schools around the country and at national conferences, also with my own faculty members after I learned of it. What a difference it would make to begin a new school year with the intentional practice of seeing children, parents and one another with new eyes.

It is a story that has the capacity to inspire at any time and in any place of our lives.

The summary is this:

Josh, a gifted cancer surgeon, came to Rachel and shared that he was depressed, having heard the same stories of his patients over and over again. It was difficult even to get out of bed in the morning and he felt like he needed a new life.

Rachel shared the quote you see above, and drawing on the work of Angeles Arrien, author of the Four Fold Way, she made this suggestion to Josh. He agreed to give it a try.

· Review the events at the end of his day for fifteen minutes and ask the following questions, writing down the answers in a journal:

o What surprised me today?

o What moved or touched me today?

o What inspired me today?

Josh agreed, at first not noticing a significant difference.

However, as the practice became deeper, he started to ask new questions of his patients and began to see them with different eyes. He said, “I knew cancer very well, but I did not know much about the people before.”

The practice of seeing with new eyes, of engaging with his patients in new ways, transformed him.

Rachel tells how, at the end of a conversation, Josh pulled a stethoscope out of his pocket, gifted to him by a patient. Rachel asked him what he did with it. After pausing, Josh said, “I listen to hearts, Rachel, I listen to hearts.”

Seeing with new eyes.

Listening with the heart.

What a difference in this world there would be if this story and practice could gain a contagion effect, if it went viral in the halls of homes, schools, communities and of those who have been called to leadership.

And to teach children about the heart, weaving more awareness of its transformative presence into the fabric of our lives every day.

We might start slowly but I can imagine gaining beautiful and life-giving speed going up the mountain of living in connection together with heart at the controls.

Imagine the wonder and awe.

I have reposted Rachel’s questions where I can see them and answer them at the end of each day. They are now next to an “invitation” from “The Five Invitations: Discovering What Death Can Teach Us About Living Fully” by Frank Ostaseski. The invitation is, “Welcome Everything – Push Away Nothing.” It is to stay, to stay to listen, explore, discover, learn, change, say yes or no, and so much more. It’s an invitation to being in life, I think, with the fullness of heart.

I invite you to see how Rachel’s questions resonate with you, and to share Rachel and Josh’s story with those in the different paths of your life. I’d love to know what you experience.

Thank you for your presence on this page. I do not take it for granted and know, after a time of absence from Substack, that I have much catching up to do with relishing the writing of those of you also here.

Here is the link to the entire story of Josh. I highly commend Rachel’s whole book for its inspiration and invitation to live more fully, with more grace and joy, and honoring the sacredness of life.

https://mindfulkauai.com/finding-new-eyes/