Category Archives: Meditations

Heart for All

Desert Spirituality, Meditations, Pecos, , , ,

It was All Saints Day 2012 when I first saw this sapling, took her photo, and discovered the purple light while reviewing my pictures at the end of the day. She became what I designated as Trudy’s Tree – my memorial to my sweet sister who had died that January. Each year adding another rock, a small cross created from sloughed-off tree bark, and eventually more rocks contributed by friends also visiting the monastery river walk.

In 2014, after my first thirty days in Spiritual Director school here in the monastery, and the day before I left, someone destroyed the cross and kicked all of the rocks away. (The ravens who met me everyday for thirty days had warned me on the path. But that’s another story.) I cried – no, make that wailed – and ran for prayers with the women facilitating the school. The next year, during the second half of my training in 2015, I rebuilt and returned nearly every year since.

In early February, 2024, I visited Trudy’s tree only to discover, someone had cut it down. So unbelievable it was to me that it was intentional, I examined the saw’s teeth marks. Only it’s short stubby trunk and crudely formed cross remained as did the rocks.

A man appeared about that time and suggested, after listening to my sad story, that I move the rocks to the, in his words, “The best tree in the woods.” He offered but I declined his help and sent him on his way. Then, with snot-slinging tears and broken heart, I moved the rocks to his suggested tree. A new heart formed. I called it The Pecos Heart. I sensed that it was bigger than Trudy or I. It was now a sign of love for all. (If interested, you can read more about that year’s experience https://theresawyatt.com/the-pecos-heart/ )

So, as I arrived this year, I was anxious to discover if the heart had survived. If it was still apparent. Still here. As I approached the huge tree, which I now agree just may be the best tree in the woods, I saw her peeking out from under autumn’s pine cones and pine needles. I stooped to begin clearing away the needles and noticed: had I placed these pinecones in the shape of an inner-heart?

Just then, a woman’s voice came from down the path a ways, announcing, “Hey, you found my heart.”

I could barely believe it! “Your heart?” I asked. “You know this heart?” She said, yes, she comes every day and tends it.

Over the next hour, I shared with her its beginnings and she talked about her calling to care for the heart. It became clearer and clearer the new name and its purpose. This is now “Heart for All.” I no longer hold ownership of this for myself or my sister.

Grief is an odd thing. It never leaves, ends, goes away. But in my experience, in this experience, I have come to see how grief does change shape and changes me. The fruits of grief, if I have patience-enough, are love. An even greater, broader, expansive and inclusive heart for all kinds of love that I could not have imagined at the first crack of tragedy.

This heart is now for you too. Heart for all, always. Or for as long as the woods wants.-theresa

We don’t get more gold stars for doing it the hardest way.

Meditations, Self Care, ,

This morning I decided that I will let myself walk only the flat surfaces of my usual route. Maybe do that twice instead of pushing, huffing, and puffing, and stressing my heart on the steep hill back up. Practice gentle long strides instead of doing it the hardest way – a lesson that keeps calling to me to practice, but merit-thinking is hard to release. So ingrained in me was:

“You have to do it the hardest way for it to count.”

WRONG! Not right thinking.

We don’t get more gold stars for doing it the hardest way. We find well being in listening to the pace of our souls, and body.

I’m headed out now for my longer, gentler walk.

The Junipers

Meditations, Poetry, , 
I am finding my pace here.
Morning walks with a glad heart, 
no shoulds of shaping a different me
Cool, dry air inviting, 
no heavy, moisture-laden blankets weighing me down
Nature every which way I look - geese, egrets, magpies, frantic swarms of gnats dancing in the hottest hours of the day, 
and two of the littlest fawns I have ever seen;
even a small birdie flies into our house. I rescue her with my hat, 
and return her to her home of everywhere - no walls or restrictions of a 180 degree life.
And God.
Yes, God.
Always God.
Walking with me.
Watching with me.
Pointing out to me the more subtle spider-web-weave on junipers, then,
reminding me that to think, 
with broken heart, 
of the unthinkable losses so many are facing this morning, 
is prayer.
Is Love.

It is all just so heartbreaking. I wish there was more to do. I pray for a blanket of Love to comfort all who are suffering.

Infusion

Inspiration Art, Meditations, Self Care, ,

These times require me to seek and steep in an infusion of love. A million messages a day invite me to choose compassion or loathing. In a millisecond of scrolling, I am dragged to gutters of rage or the deepest of heartaches.

I can’t deny the algorithms I trigger with every click or like, nor the cumulative effect these choices have on my sensitive soul. But I am certain, if not always willing, that the next Right Action is always compassion for myself and for all beings, closely followed by choosing infusions of love to fortify my heart.

“Our mind is like a garden, and we are the gardener. We can cultivate flowers or weeds. Whatever we plant and water will grow. Every piece of information, every conversation, every image, every sound we take in is a seed. If we are mindful, we can choose which seeds to water – whether they are seeds of joy, peace, and compassion, or seeds of anger, fear, and craving.”

Thich Nhat Hanh