the silence of the heart /\ somewhere

You liberate me from my own noise and my own chaos

From the chains of a lesser law you set me free

---

In the silence of the heart you speak

  And it is there that I will know you and you will know me

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You satisfy me till I am quiet and confident 

In the work of the spirit I cannot see

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you speak - audrey assad

     So many things make our hearts noisy. So often our hearts are filled with so many things, all talking at once. And they are all talking about themselves. 
     
     The mind and the heart are closely connected. The mind thinks what the heart tells it to, and the heart believes anything it wants, even if the mind has no say in the matter. That is what is so terrible - and wonderful - about the heart. Its independence and instability and bravery and timidity and bigness. People say that someone has a "big" heart when they are a kind, thoughtful, friendly person. But they have it wrong. 

     Everyone's heart is big. Hearts are so big that we don't really know our way around even our own. I don't care how long you've lived - you don't completely know your way around your heart. We fill it with things, and we boot things out. Sometimes there are things in there that snuck in without our permission and won't leave, and sometimes we stand at the door and beg things to come in, but they refuse.

     In our hearts, we have tea with danger and passion and beauty and glory. We race three-legged with the Present and the Past. We lock ourselves in the coat closet of our heart, hiding from the Future. He's ringing the doorbell. I can't hide forever. I don't want to hide, but... I do want to. 

So much noise. 

Liberate me from my own noise and my own chaos. 

Liberate me.   

But keep me here. 

"Sometimes it takes more courage to stand still." - alf arless, lark rise to candleford

Just stand still and silence your heart. Clear everything out for awhile. Smash your doorbell and lock the door. Give the key to God for safekeeping. 

     Then you can have tea with God. You can three-legged race with God. You can hide in the coat-closet with God. He doesn't mind. You should know by now that he likes subtlety sometimes. Other times you'll do things with him that you didn't do with danger or passion. Or the Present. Or the Past. Or the Future (especially not the future). 

     You skydive. You bungee jump. You scuba dive without a license or lessons. You move to a hut in the desert and live on crickets. 

     And sometimes... sometimes, it feels like every single room in your heart is having carbon monoxide pumped into it. You don't see it. But you know it. It hurts. You clap your hand over your mouth and dash through every hallway, trying to find a pure room. It's like a maze. And then you find it.

     In that room, all is silence. The walls are white. And a voice speaks, clear as morning air, unfathomable as the Challenger Deep, solicitous as Someone who can not be boxed into a metaphor. 

     You will know him and he will know you, and all of the air in all of your heart will be purified. Soon, I promise. Right now, let him teach you to play the piano and carry you over the glass that broke on the floor. Let him talk. If you are really listening, you shouldn't have trouble with that. And don't be afraid to put in a word every so often. He loves that and he loves being in a silent place with you and really... really... he just loves you.

s