Let the heart do the writing

There is this moment, this tiny second really, where I am staring at the screen with no idea what to write about. I drop into my chest, and ask my heart to do the writing. In that open space, it is like jumping off a cliff, feeling that sensation of free falling, totally unaware of what may come through. Fear, anticipation, the unknown — all swirls together in my belly in that instant right before the words come.

If I am not writing my heart, I have no business writing. My heart wants to write the new, the uncharted, the untamed, the unconditioned, and the fresh originality of the soul – and not simply regurgitate what I have already heard and repackage it into my own concepts.

So how do I write my heart?

How?

I don’t know, really. And I suspect that this “not knowing” is the first step. This feeling of the unknown is the entrance to the cave of my chest. I need to allow this feeling, to welcome it, to allow the fear to crawl up through the ground like vines and curl around my body, taking me under – down to the unknown depths within.

Then, perhaps the second step is the breath. A long, deep, belly expanding one. Followed by a mental surrender, a sinking into the center of my chest, and an intention to allow the heart to speak. The breath is the pathway the mind seeks into the beautiful energy and wisdom of the heart.

Followed by relaxation. The heart knows the most efficient way to totally and completely relax. To let-go, to completely let-go of wanting, pushing, pulling, controlling, demanding, planning, pursuing. With all muscles relaxed, the heart’s voice can come through the fingertips and find expression.

Then, of course, I must sprinkle in a dash of trust. I need to trust that my soul, through my chest, knows what to say and how to say it. My mind’s purpose is that of a steward, an usher, witnessing and facilitating the movement of love, raw energy, pain, joy, grief, wisdom, truth – to come into the back of the body, through the center of me, and again, magically find themselves clothed in written form.

And finally, none of these steps, from not knowing, to breathing, to relaxation and trust – none of these will ever work unless I move my fingertips across the keyboard.

I have to start. To begin. To get off my symbolic writer’s ass and begin typing. With this movement of energy — all of the ingredients work together to get the words flowing.

All of that happens in just a few seconds as I stare at a blank screen.

Sincerely,

Danny

Photo credit: Chang Duong via Unsplash

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