This Kind of Love
The heart has an undeniable authority once you’ve entered its depths and found your way back home. Achieving this is no small feat, to put it mildly.
When the heart takes the reins from the thinking mind, it doesn’t tolerate any nonsense, neither from you nor from anyone else. It embodies the wisdom of both a nurturing mother and a protective father, knowing exactly what is best for you.
There’s a misconception that the heart is merely soft, understanding, and lovey-dovey. But this love is fierce, a profound force that is gentle when needed and resolute when it must be. It’s not the kind of love you find in a Valentine’s Day card; it’s the kind of love that insists you stop messing around carelessly and promises not to let you down.
The heart says “No” with as much strength as it says “Yes.”
Within the heart lies a compassion that is vast and often unnoticed, patiently waiting beneath the surface for your acknowledgment. It holds an immense strength, capable of embracing all emotions without flinching. It exists at the intersection of personal and impersonal energies, harmonizing the masculine and feminine within us.
Reaching this inherent strength requires traversing the landscapes of grief, allowing yourself to cry, and confronting the cracks in your heart. As Rainer Maria Rilke beautifully expressed, “Let everything happen to you, beauty and terror; no feeling is final.”
We all share a common human struggle with letting go of control. As a voice teacher, I’ve found that the essence of my work revolves around guiding students to release this control, bit by bit, note by note—much like taking toys away from children.
As students learn to sing, they journey through various portals of surrender, allowing their voices to flow freely into the world. Yet, many hold back, reaching a point where they declare, “Nope, not on my watch.” This kind of release into the heart demands a radical shift in how one lives, often requiring the deconstruction of anything that isn’t built on truth and authenticity.
Most students sense this truth, and understandably, they hesitate to confront it.
Interestingly, a remarkable phenomenon occurs when some individuals finally let go. As the tight grip of control around the solar plexus and diaphragm softens, students may find themselves laughing uncontrollably, crying, or even fainting before the beauty of their true voices emerges. I once had a student who brought a bucket to lessons just in case she needed to throw up—an indication of how deeply control can stifle our natural energy.
The voice serves as a powerful medium for transformation and surrender, allowing the heart to step in and perform the essential intervention for our evolution as humans. Yet, as I often see, most will resist—“Nope, not on my watch.” But for those willing to embrace the journey, to truly let go of what obstructs their freedom and wholeness, the heart offers a beautiful unfolding of their authentic selves.
This kind of love is not for the faint of heart. It requires courage, vulnerability, and a willingness to dive into the unknown. If you’re ready for that challenge, the heart will guide you home.