My heart is soft toward so many things. My heart opens like the sky for butterflies, or purring cats and smiling dogs, for the wind in the trees, for children in their tears or laughter or deep concentration, for strangers in their tentative hellos, for loved ones in their foibles and certainties and even in their angry moments. My heart responds with ease and joy and readiness to a beautiful, complicated world under the soul-sea of the heavens.
So I am surprised that this ready heart of mine remains aloof in a certain respect. How is it that my lone inner self, part of the ocean of being otherwise held so benevolently in my heart, is somehow almost invisible in there?
I want my heart open to the me in me, giving love and solace and care there. Laughter and delight, too. It is, paradoxically, the me in me that is this wonderful heart so soft toward so many other things, is it not? Today, I allow my tender, embracing heart to reach everywhere.