Cracking the Heart Wide Open

I don't know how or why or really when it began...

But for as long as I can remember talking with my children, I have consistently started our days by asking all three of them the same question,

"How are you feeling in your heart?"

Sometimes, I'm greeted with a "meh--" or "not too shabby" or "pretty good" or "uh-may-zing!" And from time-to-time, a tear stained, "really, really baaaad, mama."

As much as I've tried to modify the inquiry, no other question I've stumbled upon, seems to as accurately and quickly convey exactly what's at the core of their beings.  And so even though it sounds strange to ask, I've stuck with it.

There is such a difference between asking someone how they're doing and asking them how their heart is feeling.  It's really the comparison of the cerebral and the visceral.  Or the contrast between what we think we should say and what we can't deny.  In that moment, you're either okay or really, you're not.

Lately, I've felt overwhelmed with bursts of emotion.  Blame it on my period, hectic family schedules, the introduction of two new jobs, the election cycle, friends I've been concerned about or a pesky head cold...but whatever the source, the wobbly feeling is the same.

And when my heart feels flummoxed, I find myself turning more consistently to prayer.

My friend made me prayer bracelets to help focus my fears, hopes and cries toward a saint and to help cultivate a more tangible connection to God when the insanity of the day takes over.  When I'm feeling agitated or unsure, I roll them on my wrist and start to ground myself in what matters. And I am quickly reminded of what the great Gandhi taught

"Prayer is not asking.  It is a longing of the soul.  It is daily admission of one's weakness.  It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart."

And so it is this concept that I try to communicate to my children when they have no words for why their hearts are heavy and their burdens seem unfair or all-consuming.  When we don't know which way to go, which path to take or why we have landed in the spot we find ourselves, it is best to receive with an open heart than to try to think your way out of what may have no answers inside of your finite being.

Essentially, the journey is to crack the heart wide open so that through vulnerability, you are in the best place to receive whatever is available to make your heart whole again. And this is hard.

But the work of the heart is where the magic lies.

Not long ago, a friend came to me with the tragic news that her family member was really sick.  I didn't have the words to comfort her or the ability to problem solve her situation or the guarantee that she would be okay today, tomorrow or many moons from now.  Losing someone you desperately love changes you forever.

But I did have the ability to pray.

And that is what I have done every day, multiple times a day.

Not knowing.  Trusting.  Believing.  Hoping.

The truth is that we are all broken.  We are all in need.

Intellectually, most of the time, we don't have the answers.

But everyone has a beating heart and knows instinctively when it is filled with joy and promise or dread and disbelief.

The journey is to stay so deeply rooted in the heart, so viscerally aligned that you draw from that source instead of any other when it comes to what is important.

After all, the cry of the heart is the only true barometer of the soul.

Navigating the Waters of September

I don't know what September looks like at your house...but here's what's been going on at mine.

From the moment that we round the bend on our walk home from school, my fifth grader, third grader and preschooler, kick off their shoes, grab a snack and immediately start prioritizing which homework needs to be tackled first; assessing which tests have to be studied for; analyzing the best window to sneak time in on that Social Studies project in the midst of shuffling off to football practice, ballet, swim team and music.

And we're all tired.

Because the truth is, it takes a while to get adjusted to a new homework regimen, teacher expectations, extra curricular involvement and what it means to stay focused on school work long after you've left the building.  And with each new grade comes a progression of information that requires all of us to try and breathe and trust that with time, routines will morph, the brain will absorb, the will power will rise up and the yelling will dissipate.

But I forget and so do they...

And so in the midst of the management or lack there of, we get short with each other, we say things we don't mean, we project our stress and we fizzle out.

If I had to guess, I'd predict that the whole deal has been the hardest with Sam because as the oldest, he and we, right or wrong, hold him to a really high standard.

He is hard working, extremely bright, bears the weight of the world on his shoulders and is as interested in pleasing his parents as he is in learning the material and having a general curiosity about the what the hell is going on in fifth grade.

And man, the boy has a shit ton of homework.

So when I watched him walk out of the doors of school this afternoon, I could see so much of me in his eyes and in the back pack strap he clipped around his waist for extra support.  It's just a lot.

And I'm conflicted because academics have always been extraordinarily important to me.  A love of learning and a strong work ethic is honestly, a bare minimum.  But in the same breath, I'm also trying to remember that he's 10.

As we continue to navigate this push pull relationship of working harder than we have in the past and letting go of the reigns to teach him how to be more accountable for his success as a student, I say, here's to time on our knees as parents.  I've prayed so much in these last few weeks for grace, for peace, for trust that he won't need extensive therapy because I've jacked him up.

And here's to our little ones just trying to do the best they can while maybe getting time to throw the football or the frisbee or to build in Minecraft or to ride their bike or to lay in the grass and stare up at the sun before it's dark by 5:30pm.

Here's to all of us making it through September.

Best Version of You

It's a few days away from Easter and a few weeks away from my Kate's First Holy Communion.

So, this past weekend, we continued talking about the transformation that occurs when receiving the eucharist.

Simultaneously, a group of my soul sisters and I celebrated an amazing experience of sharing mass with a Jesuit priest at sunset at the Holy Family Shrine...an unbelievable glass walled chapel where you can feel God's presence in the water that runs through the floor and the sun that floods through the windows.

And while I was praying, I remembered a conversation that I had with Kate about sin.  She asked me if there are some sins that we sin our entire life and in particular, since I was the mommy and have lived for so much longer, are there some sins that I've sinned my whole life.  I thought about it and had to answer, yes.  She followed-up with, "Well, then why should we pray to have God take them away, if we'll never get there?  It seems silly."

Not long after that dialogue, I had a conversation with my girlfriends about living the best versions of ourselves and more specifically, asking if they were living their highest truth.  All of them almost instantly said, no.  It's not that they were disappointed in their current life station, it's just that their vision held something different, richer, more authentic, deeper.

And so the overwhelming question became, why do we try to posit change?  If at the end of the day, we find ourselves repeating patterns, behaviors, actions we know aren't helpful...why do we keep trying to behave differently?  It's something I've been struggling with this Lenten season.

What I'm landing on is that guilt doesn't work.  It only serves to send us spiraling back into the same spinning cycle of status quo.  Instead, what I'm drawing closer to is the Ignatian Examination of Consciousness...which in it's most basic form is a daily reflection of our deepest hearts desires prompting three powerful opportunities to discern...Where today did I experience profound joy?  Where did I feel deep sorrow or pain? And the extension of the invitation to God to help you along the journey.

And what this prayer screams to me is drawing deeper and closer to your truth...to exploring and unfolding the purpose that God has for your life and trusting in His grace and peace to help you uncover it.

And so are their actions that I have committed my whole life that I wish I could change, absolutely.  But I won't get closer to the highest version of myself by steeping myself in them.  I draw closer to the purest parts of me when I move towards that which brings me joy and when I apologize to those I've wronged along the way and ask God to guide me toward a deeper uncovering of my purpose and His vision of me.  And no matter how painful or how exhausting, it's a journey worth enduring.

This is what I shared with my Kate...who looks adorable in her initial try-on of the First Holy Communion dress...

Here's to finding our way toward the best versions of our beings.