inner voice Archives

Dancing all the way – or listening to our little voice as a guide for wholehearted living

February 11, 2019

This guest post from Olivia Sprinkel is a letter in response to Heidi Washburn’s wholehearted story: When the inner voice calls, and calls again.

I am so excited by Olivia’s response and the dance between ideas and readers she invites!

I welcome any other letter style responses to wholehearted stories here on Quiet Writing any time. You can find out more about wholehearted stories guest-posting here. The links for all the stories are at the end of this post. How wonderful that we can share our stories of wholehearted living and what it means. And respond to the experiences of others as we shape our own journey. It truly warms my heart!

Enjoy this beautiful dance of ideas and how Olivia responds to Heidi’s wholehearted story!

Dear Heidi,

I read your article ‘When the inner voice calls, and calls again – my journey to wholehearted living’. I immediately wanted to respond and say ‘thank you for writing’ – and also to share my own reflections in response. I am now that woman in my mid-forties in New York that you were 30 years ago, listening to the call of my inner voice to give up my corporate job and to live life with my whole heart. It was so reassuring to read your story, and know that you had the courage to listen to that voice and to create a wholehearted life for yourself. It provided confirmation that a different way of living than the conventional one that is presented to us is possible, if we choose to follow that path.

The best piece of advice my father gave me

Writing this now, I remember that my father always used to say “Listen to your little voice”. It was probably the best piece of advice he gave me. He used to tell the story of how he had enrolled in Berkeley, as that is where his father and mother had both gone. But when he got there, his little voice told him, ‘You want to go to Stanford’. And he went and knocked on the door of the Stanford admissions officer, and ended up graduating from Stanford.

You write of how your little voice spoke to you so clearly and powerfully. It can only speak clearly if we are tuned into the hearing of it – you were ready to hear it. I’ve had a couple of other occasions when my little voice has spoken to me and my ears and body have been open for the hearing of it. There have been other occasions when undoubtedly it has spoken to me, but I have blocked it out because I didn’t want to hear – and things haven’t turned out too well.

Taking responsibility for listening to the little voice

I didn’t feel as if I had any choice but to listen to the little voice that spoke to me to send me on this particular journey. When this voice spoke it was giving me the gift of a creative idea or a creative mission. It spoke to me and said ‘Write a book “A history of the future of the world in 12 trees”. Or 10.’ (It was giving me a little bit of wiggle room.) And why did I choose to act on this, to give up my job, my New York apartment, to pursue this journey? I think it was a combination of the clarity of the idea, and the clarity of my listening. I felt that I had been gifted this idea and it was my responsibility to act on it. Not to do so would be irresponsible – both to the idea and to myself. And I am in the position to do so, with no responsibilities of family to take care of.

And writing this now, I wonder, ‘who is behind that little voice?’ As writers, we often speak about ‘finding our authentic voice’. Is our little voice that authentic piece of us that we can hear when we are tuned to the right channel, when we have done that preparatory work, that opening? I’ve had my little voice speak to me – and I’ve listened – in yoga and when I am out in nature. That morning when the idea for my tree journey appeared, I was sitting at my desk, but I had spent the weekend immersed in the beautiful woods of the Catskills at Menla.

Elizabeth Gilbert has written of how ideas are gifted to us, and if we don’t declare an interest in them, they will move on to someone else. She writes in ‘Big Magic’ of how an idea she didn’t pursue then moved on to Ann Patchett, who did act on it, and wrote a book based on the idea. This suggests that there is something larger than us that is seeking to communicate with us – and which knows us well enough to make only appropriate suggestions. I am sure whole philosophy books have been written on the subject, and someone more well informed than me can answer that question. But perhaps that is the authenticity of wholehearted living – that we are open to receiving information from the ‘whole’, rather than from a limited subset of ourselves.

Stepping into the dance

It also reminds me of a dance. That when we open ourselves to the dance of life, then we can dance in step with the universe and be open to being led by her, and be twirled and occasionally flipped head over heels and still land gracefully. I’m reminded of the dancing metaphor as I used to have a blog in the form of letters that a friend and I would write back and forth to one another, pondering life’s questions. The title of the blog was ‘Dancing All the Way’, which we decided on as we doing a multi-day walk and we wanted to dance all the way of the walk. And then Terri’s theme for the year is ‘Dance’ – so perhaps this is just a small example of how the universe wants to dance with us.

Seeing your life story as a Hero’s Journey

It’s not an easy thing to follow your little voice, as you know. You write movingly with the example of your accountant of how we are not always ready to do that. I believe that the call to a wholehearted life really is a Hero’s Journey, as Joseph Campbell has described, and which is the foundation of great myths as well as our ordinary extraordinary lives. There is the call to action, and we can choose to act on it or not. And if we do choose to accept, there will be setbacks, there will be temptations to distract us along the way, we will need to overcome challenges. But if we persevere, we will come back with a gift to offer our community. Thinking about my own story in this way helps to give me perspective. It is also reassuring for me to know that this journey will be repeated many times on different timescales, as well as providing an overarching arc for our lives, if we are fortunate enough to live into an old age and be able to look back over the distance that we have travelled.

I am at the beginning of this next stage of my journey, heading out into the unknown. All I have is an idea, and a rough itinerary. And, hopefully, my little voice to continue to guide me and ears and heart to listen.

I wish you well as your journey continues.

With love

Olivia

About Olivia Sprinkel

Olivia Sprinkel is a sustainability strategy and communications consultant, writer and photographer. She has advised some of the world’s largest companies on sustainability strategy, and been based in both London and New York. She is also a writer of poetry and creative non-fiction, and a keen photographer. She is now embarking on writing a book which brings together her sustainability expertise and creative skills to tell stories of a changing climate and nature connection. You can connect with Oliva via Instagram and her website.

Photographs by Olivia Sprinkel and used with permission and thanks.

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Tackling trauma and ‘not enough’ with empathy and vision – a wholehearted story

January 30, 2019

This guest post from Maura McCarley Torkildson explores tackling trauma and feelings of “not enough” with tools of empathy and vision in her unfolding wholehearted story.

This is the 15th guest post in our Wholehearted Stories series on Quiet Writing! I invited readers to consider submitting a guest post on their wholehearted story. You can read more here – and I’m still keen for more contributors!

Quiet Writing celebrates self-leadership in wholehearted living and writing, career and creativity. This community of voices, each of us telling our own story of what wholehearted living means, is a valuable and central part of this space. In this way, we can all feel connected on our various journeys and not feel so alone. Whilst there will always be unique differences, there are commonalities that we can all learn from and share to support each other.

I am honoured to have Maura McCarley Torkildson as a ‘Wholehearted Stories’ contributor. You might have seen my review of Maura’s book, The Inner Tree, all about intuition here on Quiet Writing. Maura and I have connected via our mutual interest and explorations into intuitive ways of working and being. In this story, Maura shares how a vision helps makes sense of intuitive, evolving life-long learning around tackling and calming trauma. Read Maura’s journey of working through trauma and feelings of “not enough’ with various tools that you can draw on too!

I met Mama Anaconda in a vision recently. What she showed me ultimately calmed my trauma. But I get ahead of myself…

The trauma of not enough

About a year ago, I realized that I had been steeping myself in “not enough.” I liberally doused myself with this tea in just about all areas of my life. I couldn’t see it. In my mind, this tea was the truth of my life – not enough money, not enough clients, not enough discipline, not enough experience, not enough recognition, and the list is endless.

Bullying and rejection from my peers in childhood formed painful memories and impacted my self-worth. Born whole, I became not enough. In many ways, I was a fortunate child, and yet rejection is one of the most hurtful experiences a human can face, belonging is so important to our well-being. A sensitive child, I was an easy target. Being teased and rejected hurt, a lot. Fast forward that into adulthood and my brain constantly looked for confirmation of rejection.

I am resilient, however, and determined. My focus on self-awareness and growth over the years meant that I worked these issues, sometimes inside and out. I sought therapy. I cultivated people who really cared about me. I worked with a mystic. I sat with trees. I cultivated presence awareness. I attended workshops and hired coaches. Sometimes I spent thousands of dollars. So how could I still be so stuck in the trauma, lack of self-worth and endless thoughts of not enough?

I wanted to be fixed. The underlying assumption was that I was never good enough, that belief an ingrained pattern in my brain. I overcame in one area of my life – only to find new areas to heal. One area healed…next, then next, then next? Truly it is wearying to feel the path to wholeness is never-ending.

Trauma and clairsentience – a fraught combination

I hadn’t realized how much I steeped myself in thoughts of not enough. Sometimes I wasn’t even aware of my pain – my gut twisted into knots, the intense forces constricting my heart, the pressure of tears behind my eyes at the slightest provocation. I am good at pushing through and denying. That method of coping perfected and served me quite well in earlier years. No, I wasn’t always in this state, but often enough to be worn down by it. Denial takes its toll. Secretly, I often wondered what was uniquely wrong with me.

I learned a thing or two over the years about what was “wrong” with me. One, I am an empath. Two, I have trauma.

As an empath (otherwise known as clairsentience) I am an extremely sensitive being. I feel deeply, and I have noticed the depth of my feeling often scares others. People shy away from my intensity. Furthermore, my body picks up on the feelings of others. It is a magnet for emotions.

I didn’t know about clairsentience until much later in life. I often felt confused about why I was feeling what I was feeling. Accused of wearing my feelings on my shoulders and judged for not being able to just move on, I hurt. I tried to hide my hurt unsuccessfully. I have the opposite a poker face. What was wrong with ME, I wondered. Our culture’s war on feelings left unquestioned as I learned I wasn’t supposed to be feeling so much. Feeling wasn’t rational. One had to buck up to be successful in life, showing and sharing feelings risked belonging.

The path to embracing my unique gifts and challenges

I finally figured out the clairsentience. Whew! What a relief to know it wasn’t all me. Being an empath is a gift and it is a challenge. The state of the world has high impact on this sensitive being. I grieve a lot and that grief can quickly transform into rage if I am not careful. I limit my access to news and stay vigilant about the direction of my thoughts. Thankfully I have learned many tools to manage both my emotions and sensitivity. I need protection.

I learned to embrace grief. Grief is the core feeling under all the challenging emotions, as they all have to do with loss. Embracing grief led to wisdom around what it means to be human. To be fully present to my emotions became grounding for me. I examine the physical manifestation of emotion and the emotion becomes guidance for my life. If things get unbearable, I tap (Emotional Freedom Tapping) and feel the energy release through the top of my head and shoulders.

Understanding trauma

I have trauma. We all have trauma. Understanding trauma is necessary for wholehearted living. I am not alone, nor is my trauma extreme. Trauma is not just the result of an injury or abuse on our body. Trauma is a reconfiguration of our nervous system. It is a pattern of hypervigilance and/or complete shutdown. It is avoidance of feelings that are overpowering and can be paralyzing.

My childhood experiences of rejection, repeated shifts in employment, toxic workplaces and financial insecurity are the root of my trauma. My brain actively looks for all the ways “not enough” shows up in my life. I became hypervigilant for “not enough,” especially after losing my job in 2012, struggling to find work in an atmosphere of ageism and trying to forge my path as a solopreneur. It all took its toll.

Trauma is our fear system gone wild. I learned that trauma gets stuck – or rather our nervous system gets stuck in these patterns and we can’t just think our way out of them. Contrary to popular sentiment – changing one’s mindset will not work unless trauma is addressed. Healing trauma can be accomplished most effectively through somatic techniques and therapies.

Becoming vigilant and shifting my consciousness

I remember the day I realized my brain was stuck, a day I almost charged another $2000 of debt, placing my hope in an external person to fix me. Fortunately, I asked for time to think about it. Setting down my phone after, I went to my oak tree in our backyard and prayed. An answer came – the realization I was steeping myself in not enough. At that moment, I finally understood no one could fix me. I needed to change from within.

I became vigilant about shifting my not enough habit. Every time not enough came up, I consciously stepped into gratitude. This practice helped me notice the good things – the abundance in my life – the beauty of my garden, the depth of my friendships, the way I somehow had just enough money to stay solvent. I built awareness of the nuances of feeling enough in my heart. Gratitude relieves the pressure of those forces which restrict my heart. It becomes feather-light and expansive.

Being conscious of gratitude is not enough to clear trauma, but it helps. Trauma gets entrenched. I needed to be vigilant. Some days were good, some not so much. Any disappointment threatened to knock me out of gratitude back into old habits. This is how trauma operates.

I used my tools – Presence Awareness, a practice which serves me by simply stopping any train of thought and rekindling my connection to Eternity and Love. When I get triggered, I reach out to friends. I found a tapping group and learned how to use tapping effectively. I discovered that tapping brought my trauma to the surface where I could see and acknowledge it, then release pent up feelings.

Vigilance is work. Tools require remembering to use them. I wished for flow. I wanted more.

Maura McCarley Torkildson

Recognizing the courage to be here

Bottom line, being human can be very challenging. We need stability and belonging. We need all those things Maslow identified on his triangle for reaching peak state. Those things are not guaranteed in this world. Loss hurts, it can be excruciating. We can easily become inured in a pattern of traumatized response to events in our life, sapping our natural joy.

And yet, I have experienced salvation so many times and so many ways. Salvation is the reminder that I am always whole, always nested in the Divine, no matter what happens here in 3D world.

The human in me struggles, will likely always struggle. I have great compassion for her. Discomfort IS the path to growth, our soul’s mission here. It’s not easy. I envision us as excited spirits descending into the womb for this experience of 3D life. Coming out of the womb a shock, as the realization of where we’ve landed hits. I imagine us screaming at God, the cries of the newborn, No…I want to go back home, but please don’t make me die to get there!

It takes great courage to be here. I think we all long for our home. The level of trauma on this planet has led us astray into perceived disconnection. I am not sure where it all began, but I am convinced it was born of trauma. Yet bliss is always right there beside us too, if only we remember to be present to it.

Enter Mama Anaconda

Mama Anaconda slithered into my visionary state. I dreamt of her a year before – an unforgettable dream that stuck with me. In that dream, she undulated her way into my bed, slid along one side of my body, around my head and down the other. I never felt frightened. I felt embraced. She made her home in my room. I knew she had chosen me for a reason. I knew I was hers.

Fast forward to my vision. Mama Anaconda arrived in technicolor vibrations matching the Digeridoo playing in the background. Surrounded by a vibrating rainbow of color, she slithered up a magnificent tree much like she had slithered along my body in my dream. Here in my vision, the reality of her more powerfully present.

Earlier in this same visionary state, I saw the structure of our lives crumbling, dissolving quickly around us. We are in the midst of collapse. I have known this for a while. This awareness is also a source of my trauma. My love for the beauty of this world and its creatures runs deep. I grieve each loss on our planetary scale extinction.

Messages from Mama Anaconda

To my grief, Anaconda said, “It is only the changing of skin,” then showed me the black viscous fluid of life force. Impossible to fully capture with words, this fluid always moves and is at the same time always completely still. A black void creating vibrating form along its edges, it makes crusts of light and color which grow and dissolve, expand and crumble as it vibrates outwards. It constantly creates a skin of light and then constantly breaks through it. I watch with awe and calm.

Next, she showed me insects and lizards shedding their skins. She showed me planets and galaxies forming and disintegrating. She said, “This is the way. Change, destruction is just a shedding of skin, nothing to be concerned about.”

I felt Her Love, I soak in it. Her love calms my trauma, soothes the grieving child in me. Creation is forever creating, and creation destroys as it creates. She exists always within everything. She is within us and we are within her. Form is ephemeral. She is eternal. I am eternal too if eternally changing.

My inner knowing is my faith. I forget to remember my faith from time to time. Salvation has come to me repeatedly in my life. Each time in different form, but always the same. I am steeped in Love, as are you.

Key book companions along the way

These are some resources that have supported me:

Daring Greatly – Brene Brown

Rising Strong – Brene Brown

The Spell of the Sensuous – David Abrams

The Body Keeps Score – Bessel Van Der Kolk

Bridging Heaven & Earth: A Return to The One – Leonard Jacobsen

Women in Praise of the Sacred – Jane Hirshfield (Editor)

Pilgrim at Tinker Creek – Annie Dillard

The Fall – Steve Taylor

Return of the Divine Sophia – Tricia McCannon

The Presence of the Past – Rupert Sheldrake

The Lens of Perceptions – Hal Zina Bennett

The Once & Future Goddess – Elinor Gadon

About Maura McCarley Torkildson

Maura McCarley Torkildson is an author, speaker, artist, intuitive and coach. She is the founder of Maura Torkildson Coaching and she supports clients to fully embody their intuition, embrace emotions as guidance for living and to overcome barriers to self-trust. From a place of self-trust, clients can create with abandon. Maura mentors clients through expressing their unique talents through writing, art or workbooks. She is a Certified Professional Co-Active Coach and has an M.A. in Women’s Spirituality from New College of California. Her artwork has been exhibited in both the U.S. and Malta. Find her at www.mauratorkildsoncoaching.com or on Facebook.

Photograph attribution as follows and used with permission and thanks.

Images 5, 8 – Maura McCarley Torkildson
Images 1, 2, 3, 4, 6, 7 – Fotolia.com

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When the inner voice calls, and calls again – my journey to wholehearted living

December 18, 2018

This guest post from Heidi Washburn explores the call to respond to the inner voice over time as a path to the deepest of wholehearted journeys.

This is the 14th guest post in our Wholehearted Stories series on Quiet Writing! I invited readers to consider submitting a guest post on their wholehearted story. You can read more here – and I’m still keen for more contributors!

I am honoured to have my friend Heidi Washburn as a ‘Wholehearted Stories’ contributor. Heidi and I met in Hoi An, Vietnam at Kerstin Pilz’s writing and yoga retreat in September, 2018 and enjoyed a time of deep connection during that week. I invited Heidi to tell her wholehearted story here. Heidi reflects on a moment of career shift in her life when everything changed. She shares how the inner voice often calls again and again and listening to it is a practice that evolves through our lives. Read Heidi’s reflections on her journey of responding to calls from her inner voice in deeper ways, a journey that continues!

Sometimes life changes suddenly: discovering a secret, a hurricane, a birth or a death. Sometimes the change is more subtle, more gradual and instigated by internal signals. Those signals may manifest differently for each of us. The question is when and how do we listen? How do we respond? What challenges do we face once we admit a change is coming? What happens if we ignore the call?

Many times in my life I have pushed past my inner knowing, trying to fit into the accepted norm, frustrated that the norm didn’t feel right or I couldn’t seem to do it right. As hard as I tried I could not happily push past my instincts and join the crowd. It is only when I listen and respond that the whole of me is present and engaged. It is it something that I cannot always do on my own. This ride in wholehearted living requires a lot of support, a lot of losing and regaining momentum.

My life is an evolving ever-changing journey. This is about my major career shift in my mid-forties followed by recent reflections on a lifetime of learning to listen, respond and deepen.

Setting the scene

Let’s get some perspective. In the 80’s there was minimal internet. There were no smartphones, no blogs, no easily available GPS, no online support groups and we were just out of an era when corporations took care of their employees, often for life. Leaving a successful, lucrative career was an unusual move generating a lot of opinions and, dare I say, envy.

Let’s set the scene for the moment everything changed. One rainy fall night, I was driving home to Saugerties, New York from a late meeting in New Jersey, a good two and a half hours’ drive. Visibility was sparse and I had to strain to find my way out of the corporate complex in the dark, while squinting at the map on my lap. My eyes were heavy, it was a long day and I just wanted to get home.

I was ten years into my market research consulting business, I had back-up staff and my work was in demand. Hard work, constant traveling and late nights had paid off. Yet something was not right. I was losing touch with my family and friends because I was always out of town. The only love life I could fit in was an on-demand friend with benefits. I was having dizzy spells and anxiety attacks. My teenage daughter was home alone too many nights and I wasn’t on top of her struggles in life. My friends were making noises about an intervention for my “workaholic” problem.

What problem? I loved doing in-depth interviews, consolidating them into a meaningful story for my clients and giving advice in the boardroom. I found a way to be listened to in my profession if not in my personal life. My introverted self found a way to be out front as long as I had a role to play. The operative word here is ‘role’. More and more, it felt like a role that was not me. I was trying to stay in a shell that no longer fit or serviced me. At the same time, something deeper was emerging, but I was flying too high to notice.

The voice and the moment everything changed

Back to the rainy fall night. As I said, I just wanted to get home to my bed. As I pulled onto the familiar Garden State Parkway, the rain let up and I relaxed. Before I could turn on the radio for entertainment a voice in my head came on instead. A quiet, gentle but firm voice, not just a thought.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

What?

“I said! I don’t want to do this anymore.”

What do you mean? You have to. You just got the business where you want it. You have staff, an office and now you can do the more creative work. Isn’t that what you wanted?

That was the end of the conversation. Or so I thought.

After that night, after that very moment, everything changed but so quietly and slowly I hardly noticed. Of course, I was the one making the decisions. However, I didn’t know where I was going or what the path was. Deep change doesn’t come with a check-list or a schedule. And there is no guarantee that things will work out for the best.

Shifting to deeper awareness and action

First, I became aware that I pushed through the day without eating even though I constantly yearned for food. Why wasn’t I feeding myself? I went to a nutritionist weekly for three months to get better eating habits and basically learn to nurture myself.

I began bringing more and more things from my New York City apartment and office to my ‘weekend’ house in Saugerties. By the time I set up an office in the Saugerties basement, my NYC assistant asked: “Are you ever coming back?” And she got another job. She knew what was coming before I did.

I submerged myself in therapy and enrolled in singing lessons to open up my voice.

I wanted a more meaningful life and figured I should be able to find it in a couple of months. I was used to getting things under control.

Getting to know that inner voice

I had skills I enjoyed and that contributed to my success: creating a safe space for people to express themselves, drawing people out, deep listening, analyzing overall trends, presenting my ideas and writing. Maybe I would be a psychotherapist? I applied to two graduate schools in California, but before I heard from them my inner knowing led me another way. I started training in wholistic counseling, yoga and healthy lifestyle. I spent months at Kripalu, a yoga and meditation center. In between I still took on consulting projects to sustain my searching.

The inner voice grew stronger the more space and time I gave it. After chanting three days straight during a Kripalu one-month retreat, I sent out a prayer from a song by Linda Wooster: “Take these hands and turn them into light beams.” I still didn’t realize quite where I was going and how meaningful that prayer would be.

Finding my path as a somatic practitioner

I am a kinesthetic person. Formal psychology is too mental and structured for me. So, I went to massage school. Out of massage school I searched for a mind-body approach that worked for me. I was still taking occasional consulting jobs.

The months of transition turned into two years, reading, searching, training, experimenting, meditating, getting help from therapists, poking the fire for hours.

One day a massage therapist touched my head and moved my neck ever so slightly just for a couple of minutes. My whole body deeply let go. I felt safe, heard and known through her touch.

“What was that?!” I murmured through my bliss.

She told me it was Craniosacral Therapy. I wanted to do that work. I just knew it.

From there I began training in Craniosacral Therapy, a way to work with mind-body-emotions-spirit. I found my home but not yet a career. It took a couple of years before I had the confidence to practice. And to totally leave my business.

Meanwhile, I needed to live a simpler life and reduce expenses. I was happier, but much less affluent.

Clearing the way to live fully

On a sunny day in August, my beautiful Saugerties house was sold and I was moving one town over to a small two-bedroom rental in Woodstock, taking my cat and my new life with me. My old house was ready for its new owners, except for the bright red landline kitchen phone. Just as I was about to walk out the open front door for the last time, final items under my arm, the phone’s shrill ring echoed throughout the empty house. Even the answering service was disconnected, so I rushed back to answer it. An advertising company was calling me to see if I was available for a market research consulting job.

This will be a short call! Standing straight and with a clear voice I gave the answer for the first and last time.

“I don’t do that anymore.” That was it. I felt exhilarated.

I have been asked if I have ever regret leaving my consulting career. It was a good run and mostly I loved it. But I was learning that my sensitive system needed a gentler, more spacious environment. So, did I regret it? Not for a nanosecond. I have been asked, did I ever worry about making a living? Things get tight now and then and I do worry about a future when I can no longer work. The lifestyle I have chosen is short on long-term security. My practice goes up and down. I would like to create some kind of community living as I age, but as an introvert am not too skilled at groups. So, the future is uncertain. Yet, I would never change my decision. I chose to live fully instead of setting myself up for a less-than-wholehearted fate.

Reflections and new perspectives

I don’t really know what brings up that mysterious inner voice sending me one direction or another. Some people might call it guidance. All I know is that it is powerful when I listen. A year ago, I just knew I had to go to Vietnam, thinking it was about the war that impacted my generation and my life when my young husband went to fight. One step led to another and on a hot September day I arrived in Hoi An for Kerstin Pilz’s Write Your Journey Writing Retreat. At 75, I have reclaimed myself as a writer and reclaimed the story I need to tell. And another adventure begins.

My first draft of this piece included mention of my accountant for my consulting business. Stan would show up at my office and stare out the window as if he wanted to vaporize and pass though it.

“Oh,” he murmured, “how I would like to be a painter, but I have to work.”

Then, less than two years into our business relationship and in his mid-thirties, he had a heart attack and died. In my draft, I used this story to show how dangerous it is not to follow your heart, your dreams. But, I was being lofty, arrogant, and disrespectful to my accountant. It implied that we have control over our destiny if we just listen.

Meeting the unexpected with deeper insights

I put aside the first draft, let it sit for a while to see if it was really what I wanted to say. I thought a lot about listening to that inner voice. Asked friends how they knew when something is “right.” One looks for a sense of deepening and clarity, another a feeling in her gut and still another uses a pendulum. I learned that each person has their own unique way of listening. I thought I had the answer to controlling destiny. Tune into what is right for you and all will be revealed.

Then, I had a heart attack. It was mild as heart attacks go. It has a name: Takotsubo, also called Broken Heart Syndrome. Given my low blood pressure, lack of any artery blockage, perfect cholesterol, and lean body, the only explanation is stress. I meditate, eat a healthy diet, process emotions and enjoy my career as a craniosacral therapist. This shouldn’t happen to me. But it did.

My point is, who knows why my accountant had his heart attack. Or, maybe I didn’t have mine until I was 75 instead of 45 because at 45 I followed the calling to change my life. I am inspired to once again look deeply. How do I want to spend the remaining years? The inquiry is the path to aliveness. These days I am more and more excited about each day as I heal my broken heart.

What I have learned

I have learned:

that we can affect our quality of life in a big way, but not control it.
to embrace the precious qualities of being an empath and an introvert with creative talents and deep wisdom to share.
to step up my self-care, boundary setting and need for spaciousness to be present for the wonders and tragedies life throws my way.
to rest before I am exhausted.
to trust and be grateful for the amazing support system that comes to my aid when I am in trouble.
that I love to share through teaching and writing.
the sound of my inner voice when it calls.

And I am still learning.

Resources that have supported me

These are some resources that have supported me:

Hakomi: a Buddhist-centred wholistic counselling method

Psychosynthesis: a wholistic counselling method

Mindfulness/Insight meditation: Dharma.org has talks available for free

Upledger Institute: listings of craniosacral therapy practitioners around the world

Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy

Write Your Journey, Kerstin Pilz: upcoming meditation, yoga, writing retreat in Hoi An, Vietnam September 2019

Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health

The Empath’s Survival Guide, Judith Orloff

About Heidi Washburn

Heidi Washburn is a craniosacral and massage therapist, writer, practitioner of gentle yoga and insight meditation, friend, sister, aunt, great aunt, mother and cat lover. She specializes in working with other empaths and INFPs who do best in
a spacious, safe, gentle and mindful environment. Heidi has been practicing
bodywork for over 25 years with advanced clinical training and certification in Hakomi, Psychosynthesis, Upledger Craniosacral Therapy and Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy. More recently, Heidi has joyously immersed herself in the sacred art of writing. She is working on a memoir about secrets and how the truth liberates the unexpected. You can connect with Heidi via her website or email at washburn.heidi@gmail.com

Photograph attribution as follows and used with permission and thanks:

Images 1, 2, 3, 9 – Terri Connellan
Images 4, 5, 7 – Heidi Washburn
Image 6 – Pexels.com
Image 8 – Nigel Rowles
Bio portrait: Amber Roniger Photography

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inner voice

The best piece of advice my father gave me

Taking responsibility for listening to the little voice

Stepping into the dance

Seeing your life story as a Hero’s Journey

About Olivia Sprinkel

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The trauma of not enough

Trauma and clairsentience – a fraught combination

The path to embracing my unique gifts and challenges

Understanding trauma

Becoming vigilant and shifting my consciousness

Recognizing the courage to be here

Enter Mama Anaconda

Messages from Mama Anaconda

Key book companions along the way

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Setting the scene

The voice and the moment everything changed

Shifting to deeper awareness and action

Getting to know that inner voice

Finding my path as a somatic practitioner

Clearing the way to live fully

Reflections and new perspectives

Meeting the unexpected with deeper insights

What I have learned

Resources that have supported me

About Heidi Washburn

Read more Wholehearted Stories

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