Updated: Sep 1, 2019
As we discover on our journey of healing, our Heart is the center of our life. It guides our calling, hears the whispering of God, remembers the great mystery of our soul and gets to be broken over and over so it can expand beyond the imaginable.
I have heard "'Hearts are wild creatures, that's why our ribs are cages." and we all got to experience this on our journey. It became obvious to me that God, in Her infinite Love for us, put rib cages on it for us to understand it's wildness but also to show us how to relate to her.
Rib bones are the most painful bones when they get broken. I heard Her whispering while daydreaming in the Sacred Valley and she shared this daunting and yet hopeful message.
When broken, ribs, prevent us from laughing. From deeply breathing. From dancing. It is a reminder of the tender space we enter when Hearts are broken. We want to cry loudly, shout, scream, but soon we are drawn into a deep silence. We want to hug or be hugged, and yet any pressure might just increase the pain. We know the medicine for a broken heart is unconditional Love, gentle presence of loved ones, and yet God is guiding us into a reflecting silence. A pause in our dance.
The dancer stop and rest.
The laugh is held.
The breath shortens.
The voice is muted.
The pain becomes visible to us in every breath, in every moment. As the depth of the pain is experienced we become haunted day and night by the constant whispering of the broken Heart, the broken ribs.
Ribs are also the bones that take the longest to heal. Is God teaching us patience and surrendering in the midst of our turmoil? Is she pointing to one of the greatest gift, the surrendering to what IS in that precise moment? Does the pain is the gift of pointing our prayers towards what really matters? I cannot conceive She is not holding us in Her arms at the depth of the sorrow. And yet I might do everything to escape and pretend, laugh and dance...
In the long days and night of the suffering, I am guided to pause. To rest. To listen. And to wait. Teaching me that healing will come in its own time when my capacity to surrender will reach an epic moment on the edges of losing faith.
The Wild Heart, like any wild animal, cannot be tricked. Cannot truly be tamed. But can only be understood. Does She teach me, as a patient wildlife biologist, to take note, to learn how to get closer, to understand and see what I have never been able to see before? If the wild animal is hurt it will become more aware and attuned to it's surrounding. It will learn to listen to what truly matters. It will learn and grow more powerful and strong.
Is the cage broken so the wild Heart can explore beyond the known? Be slowly entering the unknown? Is this the way for God to remind us of the fragility and yet extreme resilience and strength of the wild Heart? As I taste this new freedom, will I remember more truthfully my essence?
I want to dance again. I want to laugh again. I want to breathe deeply again. I want to sing again. But I know there will be a moment for that. As in the middle of the pain, the only position my arms do not create more pain in my ribs is to bring my hands to my chest, on my Heart. Gently feeling It. Or in prayer position, where I can touch the center of the sweet tender rest, where for a second no pain can be felt.
In the space between my inhale and exhale, in the silence of the daunting pain, in the surrendering patience it takes to heal, for a moment, I think the only thing I can hear is Her whispering. Her whispering of deep unconditional Love and care, that no one else can offer with such depth.
One day I wake up and I can breathe. I can laugh. I can dance. I can sing. And something deeply magical has happened. I have remembered pain will pass. In that new day, I would have experience patience, surrender, and I will truly have receive Grace. I will be closer to God, closer to my Heart, closer to my soul. I will know that in the pain might be the place where the whispering of the Great Mystery can be truly heard. And despite the cage, despite the scars, I will have become free.
To all our broken Hearts, to all our broken ribs, to all our pains, to all our wounds, to all our scars, I thank You for the opportunity to experience what it means to be Human. To enjoy the bliss of the dancer, the exaltation of the singer, the aliveness of being in this body.
And finally, when it will be time to leave this body, I will be able to look at the scars on my soul, becoming ancient mystical symbols of wisdom, weaved in the most beautiful tapestry, made of the finest divine silk. The sound of my broken Heart will become a prayer, a whispering, for those who are yet to come.
Shawinigan Ungaia / The Sanctuary