Whole Broken Heart

I was gifted a drum for my birthday this year. It’s an amazing instrument, I’m really quite in love with it. I’m not a musician, or a percussionist, and it’s not that kind of drum. It’s a drum for connecting; for meditating with; for allowing the vibration of its beating to move through my body and shift my perspective around to see things differently.

I spent some time with my drum this evening. I’ve developed a practice, sort of unintentionally, that when I am with the drum I unhook my critical mind and open my throat and my heart to sing, and inevitably I learn from what emerges in the song. Sometimes just tones and syllables emerge, and in them I hear my own current emotional state. And sometimes words emerge, and in them I find wisdom.

Tonight I sang the phrase “we are all one whole broken heart” and something clicked…something probably beyond words, but here’s an attempt, anyway.

In that moment, I felt my own broken heart. And I felt how each shard of it belongs to a beloved; how each break represents a love-interaction flavored with separation of some form or another. And I felt threads running through the breaks, weaving them into wholeness, and how each thread represents a love-interaction flavored with connection of some form or another.

And I think that’s what we are, we humans — God-in-Density; the Incarnate Evolving All…I think we are One Whole Broken Heart.

And a broken heart doesn’t stop working. On the contrary, it seeks healing — it seeks out love. So the love-that-wounds/betrays/breaks inspires us to find/create/manifest the love-that-heals/transforms/grows. Separation and Connection, Pain and Pleasure, these are literally the warp and woof of the tapestry that is the Dense Plane. And they need each other. They are Ruin and Preservation; both must exist in equal measure, and can only be governed by the human heart.

Because the human heart — broken and healing, always broken always whole, is a direct reflection of the whole-thing-that-we-are-when-we-are-individuated. One whole broken heart.

In this moment, it feels beautiful, in that achingly bittersweet kind of way. One of my favorite forms of beauty.

And I think this is some of the texture of “choosing love in the face of pain”, this experience of all-of-manifestation as one, giant, broken heart, breaking and healing over and over.

I find this understanding and lose it, again and again. Years ago I wrote the following in a blog post; I rediscovered it over the summer and made a meme out of it for the Embodied Experiments facebook page. And today I returned to it, and I think that it’s probably one of the more beautiful prayers I’ve ever prayed: