Thinking With the Heart

I've been working on this particular posting for over a week now. Usually I finish them in just one sitting, but for some reason, each time I got into writing it, something didn't feel right. So, as a result, I stopped and did something else. This morning as I was having my coffee, I figured out what was going on for me. It's simple really: I was trying too hard.

In other words, I was relying too much on my head and not enough on my heart. I had an idea of what I wanted to say, but I treated it linearly, not spiritually. That, I think, is a common thing for a lot of us with regards to the way we approach life.

I'm not saying that linear thinking isn't necessary in getting our ducks in a row. Certainly our bank accounts and budgets (if, in fact, we bother to make one) are dependent on our ability to use our brains in calculating where we stand financially. And our calendars are pretty concrete indicators of our obligations, socially and otherwise (although, for the life of me, I can't remember when I'm supposed to go get a particular test this month at the Capital Health Center). And knowing the directions to a destination we need to reach by a certain time pretty much rely on clock and map or GPS.

Having said all that, those things in general are the black and white and sometimes gray issues of life. But we live in a world which offers us the full spectrum of color. We have been taught and have learned how to think with our brains. That's a wonderfully useful technique. However, just as important, and maybe even more so, is learning to think with our hearts.

Chris and I were away leading  a retreat in Lancaster, PA (specifically Bird-In-Hand) a couple of weekends ago. It was a great time with some wonderful people! Saturday afternoon was free time and so Chris and I took off exploring the area. We had been there before--actually many times through the years--but each time we have had a deep appreciation for the beauty and serenity that emanates from the people and the countryside. There is a gentle charisma to the nature of the people who serve you in restaurants and stores or with whom you simply have conversations.

The point is that that is not something that they have carefully figured out in their brains. It flows naturally from them from their hearts. In all the times that I have been there, I have yet to see anyone who seems panicked or stressed or impatient. Even the traffic respectfully cooperates with the pace of the Amish buggies, and everything seems to flow with ease--unless, of course, you're encountering those from outside the region who are used to life in the fast lane, so to speak.

I made a promise to myself this morning as I came to the realization of which I spoke at the beginning: I promise to start each morning by thinking with my heart about the potentially colorful splendor that awaits me as I live and move and breathe throughout the day. I want to make sure that the source by which I go about this life emanates from deep within to those I meet and has been carefully thought out by my heart.