The freedom it brings.
The allowing of it...

The heart can be a fickle one. It is there to give us life and oxygenate our cells with life force. It protects us and at times it gets broken. Sometimes over and over again. It nourishes our being and can also break us down when pain knives it's way through the tender flesh of the heart.

Love can lift us and love can break us.
We can soar and we can fall into an abyss of what feels like never ending pain.

A broken heart is a real, diagnosable illness. People suffer physiological symptoms from a broken heart. Grief and sorrow are carried within the walls of that slowly pumping heart. It can slow one down to a soft pitter patter where just breathing becomes a triumphant feat.

The breaking of a heart will most surely bring forth the guarding of the heart at some point in life. The chamber walls are resurrected to protect fiercely the tenderness of a newly raw and saddened heart. The grief that spills over the hardened soil of the earth appears cruel and irrational. So the walls go up and stay up valiantly. Heroically. Thou shalt not enter the confines of this beaten heart...

The path of the mystic, the evolving and awakening one will eventually come to the crossroads at the intersection of this protected heart. The bravery needed to enter the heart to scrape out the remnants of every broken splinter is grand. Frightening. Paralyzing. No matter the reckoning of the past, the wounds, the liberation of the self into actualizing, the reality is that the guarded heart opens the last leg of the journey into becoming with one seemingly simple move:

Open the heart. Trust. Trust. Trust.

The heroines journey into her most radiant self can only be ignited with the opening of her supple and resilient heart. She has chosen the roads to her own divine self love and honoring of her sovereign being. Yet to truly be of magnificent service to the world at large, she must, she must open the gates for the outpouring of this liquid gold: love.

The soothing balm of that frightened heart is the touch of loving, tenderness from another. It is the generosity of loving that melts away the bricks of havoc to open her petals one by sweetened one until her blossoming buries the woes of her distant past.

The one who chooses to love her in this way is not claiming their victory over her opening but stands in glory of her resurrection. The one gives with the opened palms of selflessness rather than the tightened fist of grasping and claiming her radiance as his prize, his token treasure.

She floats freely within the bathing of this love and as she does, the fluidity of her life carries her into a life of miracles and outrageous expansion. Her heart palpitates to the rhythm of natures bounty and carries her into even more exalted platforms of her highest being. When she arrives to the throne of her authentic love the world unfolds brilliantly in her path, touched by her divine radiance.

She gives freely and openly, watering the soils of a once hardened earth. Her blossoming is where love spills as graceful service to all.

She has come home and the whole world nods in her presence....

In love,
Christy Funk

Christy FunkComment