Death Valley is the living image of God’s presence in absence.
In the vast open spaces of the desert there is evidence of wave upon wave, yet there is no water. Absence defines Death Valley – once an ocean of water, it’s now an ocean of space.
During my 7-day solo walkabout, surrounded by space and absence, I healed at the edge of the earth. I did Qigong. I yelled my death cries into the morning wash.
With loving kindness I began the process of stabilizing the wide open rawness of my broken heart. In the desert I began the shift from ‘I want love in my life; I need someone to love me’ to ‘I want love in my life; I am going to give love in every opportunity.’
According to Susan Priver, who wrote a book on The Wisdom of a Broken Heart, which examines heartbreak as the opportunity for spiritual transformation and deep love…
Being a lover is the only seat of power when it comes to love. Most of us think of ourselves as powerless when it comes to love. ‘If it happens, it does; if it goes away, you don’t know why.’ On the one hand, that is true, but there is one seat of true power. That is as a lover, someone who chooses to give love and not wait for love.
Since my heart-break almost 3-months ago, I feel more compassion for the people I meet in my day-to-day life. I am thankful for this. So today I chant along with Solomon, from the song of songs…
Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.
For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone;
The flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in our land;
The fig tree puts forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell.
Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away.
On Wednesday I start a 10-week course on mindfulness meditation to continue the work of stabilizing and nurturing an open and generous heart.