Connecting the head and the heart isn’t for sissies. It’s tough work.
For years I counselled women making difficult life choices. Sometimes, those choices were met with ambivalence because their head pulled them in one direction while their heart tugged hard another way.
It’s uncomfortable to have two sides opened up wide with possibilities. Allowing ourselves to imagine outcomes breeds vulnerability. That can feel scary. When it appears there are the same number of pros and cons in a situation, how do you make a decision?
I’d advise women to do the logical thing when they were unsure: Write a pro/con list, review it, and then do something a little illogical … realize it didn’t matter which side had the longestlist; what mattered was the significanceof what was written on each side.
Circling the deal breakers, the things they refused to compromise on, within each list sometimes helped. This is when they got honest with themselves, acknowledged and accepted what their needs were. That brutal kind of honesty? Helps get to the heart.
It’s important to pay attention to logic, to see the “reality” of a situation (though reality can change in an instant). It’s equally vital to listen with our hearts. They carry old wisdom that whispers to us … if we can quiet our minds a little. Let your mind speak, say its piece. Then go quiet. Allow it sit and rest a bit. Then go inside.
Your heart may sometimes agree with most of what your busy mind is churning out, but it also allows you to see alternate opportunities, possibilities you may normally be too afraid or rigid to embrace. Our heart pushes ever-so-gently, reminding us who we are … that can feel slightly uncomfortable, itchy.
My step-dad is a logical, down-to-earth man and taught us the importance of rationally thinking through details (not always easy). He also taught us the necessity of not overriding the heart. He knew real balance or peace couldn’t come without both.
When I struggled with choices, he’d ask, “What’s the worst thing that could happen?” I’d mumble the worst thing – which usually wasn’t so bad – and he’d reply, “What would happen if THAT happened?” This helped me bridge my mind and heart, allowing me to safely navigate possibilities without feeling overwhelmed. Somehow, I could see a safety net of other opportunities if I failed or if things didn’t work out exactly the way I wanted. Let’s face it: things rarely do.
I’ve learned to add the following question: “What’s the best thing that could happen?” Answering that can be just as scary. We might not feel ready for the good stuff. Feel like we deserve it.
We often make choices based on fear. We’re afraid of failure. Afraid of being wrong. Afraid our dreams, our wants and wishes, won’t come true. We’re afraid of broken hearts and broken marriages. We’re afraid expectations won’t be met. That we won’t get loved back. We’re afraid we can’t control it all and if we let go, if things don’t align perfectly or exactly as we envisage, it means we’re not in control … we might worry we’re not good enough, worthy enough.
There’s not much we can truly control in this life though, and when a whirlwind strikes – like death, illness, or divorce – you realize that the carefully constructed lives we’ve built can be whisked quickly away leaving us standing bare and raw.
When we look to our sides as we kneel in rubble, we see what matters: those standing next to us who love us the most, who see us for who we truly are, who accept us “as is.” It takes faith, trust to believe that if we don’t have all the answers, or if the answer appears in an unruly looking package, that we’ll still be OK. That sometimes, things aren’t what they appear to be. Sometimes, what we think we want and what we actually need are different.
When the what’s-best-for-you-right-now is different from the way you wish things were … it’s hard. There’s a sense of loss in that. A loss of what could’ve been if circumstances were different. It can feel infuriating. Seem unfair. Hurt! Sometimes those circumstances can change with time, but it takes honesty and an open heart to look deep and see if you can accept that uncertainty in your life now.
We need to look for the truth behind the situation. When our heart and mind aren’t connecting, when we can see both sides of the coin, see how they match-up, but feel confused as to what to do (because either way it’s going to be hard and/or good), we have to peel back each layer of our feelings, until we get to the core of how we truly feel and what we really desire and need. There, the truth lies and then our hearts can be open to accept what is best right now.
When I feel a sense of calm, I’ve hit truth. It’s in that protective space I know that even if a decision may hurt, it will quickly heal because I’m standing in my integrity. I’m being honest.
Hard choices bring reflection, opportunities for us to look inward and see if we’re on the path we want to be. Scratch that. The path we need to be on so that we’re aligned with who we really are.
I have a great deal of respect and admiration – deep love and compassion, even – for those who try listening within, sliding fear aside, and decide what is best now. When people do this, they’re changing course one step at a time, accepting they don’t know what it looks like at the end of the road. That’s brave. Courageous.
So no … merging logic and the heart? It’s not for sissies. It’s reserved for the strong ones. The beautifully wide shouldered, vulnerable ones.
And she does it again!
I thankfully came across your site 24 hours ago and am so engrossed in just how well a woman can put it all down. Becky- will I ever navigate through these powerfully translative sentences without the tears rolling down?
When wounds are cut open, your the healing salt I think.
Thank you and Love,
Chi
Oh, thank you for your kind and beautiful words, Chi. Sending you lots and lots of love.