Stopped at the red light, my thoughts catch up with me.
The dizzying whirl of cars upsets and unleashes a mental narrative about the state of humanity, a disembodied and disconnected voice that clutches the internal microphone and loudly complains … about everything.
When this voice gets rolling, I am lured out of my body and into the separationist motives and judgmental persuasions of the egoic mind. I am out of my body, meaning that I am out of touch with my instinctual intelligence and veiled from the clarity, compassion, and courageous inner knowing of my heart.
I am immersed in the movie of the mind, and curiously the scene that is playing is from a movie, The Unbearable Lightness of Being. This film seized my heart with such raw wordless recognition, that I didn’t finish it. It’s exquisite, erotic (perhaps don’t watch with parents, family or friends), and burns with emotional intensity. The film follows the love life of a Czech doctor (played by the dashing and young Daniel Day Lewis) in 1968, chronicling his passionate affairs against the backdrop of the Soviet invasion.
There’s one scene in particular that has folded itself into the crevices of my consciousness.
Lena Olin stars as the film’s sensual and spiritually alive lover. She’s bored, sitting at a contemporary-fashioned restaurant where she suddenly and colorfully bursts into a sobbing rage. She throws this fantastic fit, a fit that I would be mesmerized by, a fit she wildly allowed herself to unapologetically express, a fit that I remembered because it struck a chord of resonance deep in my gut, too. She wails and shouts about how soulless the modern world has become, how art and our buildings are devoid of beauty, and she cries out for that beauty, knows that beauty is an essential nutrient for living, for human beings.
The scene replays as I feel that howl of longing rise up in my throat, desperate to see something beyond metal, wires, pavement. And the prayer is answered by the sight of a winter tree, pressing barren limbs up to the sky, boldly claiming a corner of the ungiving sidewalk.
And here’s the choice point. Because it’s the re-remembering of choice that awakens us, that settles us back into an embodied presence, a consciousness freed to witness the mind and not become a mindless participant of the ongoing mental movie.
I offer my heart’s yearning to the tree. Please, let me see the beauty that surrounds me.
It’s a quick prayer, a true prayer, and one that is answered immediately.
My eyes flicker to a waving motion on my left. A red car that I am just now noticing that too is sharing this traffic stop with me.
A young woman with blonde hair pulled into a tight bun is signaling me. We make eye contact and she beams. She words emphatically, “I love your glasses!” She makes hearts with her hands and points to my face.
I remember, then. I am wearing pink, heart-shaped sunglasses. I’ve been wearing them the whole time.
My heart becomes honey.
The warmth that blooms emanates from my center, cascading down my shoulders, shrugging off the tension, the aloneness, the illusion that I am separate from others, from life.
The beautiful kindness of this stranger elevated the course of my day. And that’s why I share it with you. We must look for the beauty, not by seeking or searching, but by softening into what we already know to be true. It’s a beautiful world, people are basically good, and the howl for beauty, for harmony and flow, is an integral part of our hearts and souls.
So bring the beauty. Beauty is a healing force in this world. Beauty is simply the enjoyment of aliveness. It’s pleasure, and there’s power in tapping into our pleasure as sensual, creative beings.
Wear what brings you to life. Eat breakfast on the fancy plate. Circle your hips when you first get out of bed to greet your body with reverence. Light candles. Keep the flame of your own heart bright. Notice the beauty that is in your heart and the hearts of others. This is our sacred, daily duty.
This is our moving Valentine’s letter to ourselves and then to the world. For our micro-universe reflects the macro-universe and the macro reflects the micro.
You don’t need heart-shaped sunglasses. Or of course, you could treat yourself if you wish to! Just remember to soften your gaze enough that you see with unity consciousness, that’s the gaze of love.
P.S. ~ A friend’s Valentine to me was the suggestion of listening to Krista Tippet interview Irish poet, philosopher and Catholic priest, John O’donohue. The topic was serendipitously centered on beauty. “Beauty is the illumination of the soul,” writes O’donohue, and if your ears crave to hear more of the language of the spirit, in a lush Irish accent, then listen in: https://onbeing.org/author/john-odonohue/
P.S.S. ~ This dear friend who gmail-Valentined the podcast has started sharing her spirited writings on her heart-nourishing blog. Read and breathe here: https://www.innerlandscapes.yoga