Your heart is the bridge
Between your humanity
And your divinity

When there is harmony
It means there is a free flow
Of humanity into divinity
And divinity into humanity
And there is no division within
Only wholeness
A whole human being

If this flow is impeded
There is imbalance
And something is denied
Either an armoring of the heart
Or a denial of the mind

A lopsided human experience
Misses the mark
And creates suffering
Both personal
And collective

Embracing all your humanity
With its pain and sorrows
Without getting completely lost
Allows the bridge to open

Your heart is an extraordinary thing
A doorway that, once open,
Allows the full coming and going
Of the profound and the profane.

Image by David Mark from Pixabay


This compassionate heart
That grew inside me
Was born from pain
And desperate attempts
To keep away from old wounds
Lost in addictions and avoidance
Strategies that failed
And only brought me greater suffering
And suffering to those around me

When I gave up fighting
My world caved in
And the resistor was destroyed,
Broken up and dissolved
What remained, and it took many years
And many tears
Was this compassionate heart

I saw myself in everyone
I saw everyone’s pain and sorrow
I saw the patterns we weave
And the strategies we employ
I realized that only kindness really works
And only a compassionate embrace
Of all human troubles
Releases us to be who we are.


The rain soaks the parched earth

We stand in the wetness of it all

Our eyes turned towards the heavens

Is it joy that is falling

Or a kind of grief

Stop dividing everything up

For everything is inside everything else

There is awe and mystery everywhere

When the heart opens.

Image by Marco Massimo from Pixabay


When the wave falls back into the ocean
What relief it feels

For a moment it had imagined
It was alone and separate
Looking out at all the other separate waves
And it was scared

But that was just a dream
And now what relief it feels
To know itself as wholeness and unity

And, when it looks out at all the other waves,
It sees the truth of them
That nothing can be separate
It can only imagine itself that way

The imagination tells stories
It is very good at that.

Image by PIRO from Pixabay