The Heart Breaking Open: Release Me.


And just when I start to break open again, I find it hurts.
Love. Requires. Openness.

If you have ever been hurt in love (who hasn’t?), you know that allowing yourself to begin again, to release the gates, open the door once more… is… difficult, to say the least.

Sick. Twisted. Essential Masochism. 

Return to the starting gates and re-run the race? But what if I lose yet again? Would the universe be so cruel?

Yes, without a doubt it would. So, instead of simply letting the universe take its winding course, I turn to the {buddha}verse this time. Having reaped karma, having experienced the results of my actions time and again, I begin to look at the whole situation from a perspective of insight, introspective analysis, attention. Awareness. Mindfulness.

I choose, in this time, to allow myself to feel more. And to be mindful of what I feel, allowing it to pervade me.

The hurt, the fear, the energy, the rush of blood as I flush. As it happens. And if I feel something I’ve felt before, I turn a spec of attention toward it. And if I feel something new (is that even possible?), I examine it’s spec as well. That spec can save me, I’m certain. Save me from running blindly. Save me from missing the mark.

Because we are only given one chance in this dreamlike trance of life. One chance to recognize the importance of the spec. It is the spec that connects us to everything. The spec is everything.

One chance, over and over again without end. Without beginning.

As a woman who has experienced the heights of passion, pleasure, partnership and purpose, as well as the unfathomable depths of dark, thick, black pain, the possibility of allowing myself to be alive is frightful. With life, authentic life, comes feeling. And with feeling comes… a multi-limbed bitch of a beast that tries to tangle and twist all that is.

Mara comes when we expect her and when we don’t. She tempts us all to give up, give in. And the only way to overcome her is to do just that. Give up and give in. To feeling. To pain. To pleasure. Resisting either can become a fatal flaw.

The only way to overcome the eons long programming to protect the self is to give up the self. I don’t exist, anyhow, outside of this lovely dream, so what is the harm in giving myself up? No harm. But, it requires a great deal of inner strength, derived from a spot that most of us have been conditioned to characterize as weak, our soft spot.

The place where we are vulnerable. The ego-clinging, me-victorious, pain-aversive nature that lies within us all. The attachment to self, to be more specific.

Letting go of attachments is the name of the game.

I have found that the most effective way for me to lose my self clinging is to be mindfully aware of what I am feeling. Then I can go two different ways with it. Search for the underlying causes of the feelings, which leads to insight, or hold those feelings with compassion for as long as they persist. In doing so, I find a changed perspective.

A perspective that allows me to hold, and then release the feelings, without judging. When we stop judging the self, the self becomes more free. As the self becomes more free, it becomes less Me, mine, I, ego, and connects to the larger space and time wherein all beings are interwoven. Joining the race of all time, all space. In these moments of mindfulness, I become less attached to my-self, and I find my Self attaches to something more vast.

In the universe, we have a place.

An area that can be pinpointed, mapped, documented. In the buddhaverse, we are place. We are time. We are no longer limited by me or my. In the buddhaverse, the race can only be won if you don’t run it. There is no race. No I. No me. No you.

Exposing the heart and soul to the openness required for growth requires letting go of the constructs of our individual identities, in order to become a part of the larger, unquantifiable, indescribable, indestructible loop. It requires extreme vulnerability and attention to uncertainty.

The vulnerability is unbearable, yet is the only redemption there is. It is the truest source of strength I have found. For we are all fragile, delicate, feebly pretending we are not. We get lost along the way because we are not willing to follow the signs. Some never even notice them. The rushes of adrenaline, the fuzzy headed tingle of shared thought, the energy that moves between bodies~heavenly or not, the ache in the gut-pit.

The moments of recognition precognition superstition that create volition. The signs are there. The same arrows leading to the finish line–which does not really exist. The dreamlike path through the buddhaverse traverses and twists and turns. It teaches. So we may evolve. Vanquish fear. Fear is nothing other than uncertainty.

So, I am certain. Certain that breaking open is not that bad.

It hurts. It happens. Shit happens. Better to have loved and lost than never loved at all. Everything happens for a reason. Yes, magic eight ball, the signs point to Yes and It is decidedly so.

Pick a cliche, any cliche, and you will find a spec. Of truth, of humor, of happiness. Find the spec and pay attention to it. Be certain it is there. And then remember it is only a dream.

“Do not take life’s experiences too seriously. Above all, do not let them hurt you, for in reality they are nothing but dream experiences… If circumstances are bad and you have to bear them, do not make them a part of yourself. Play your part in life, but never forget that it is only a role.” ~ Paramahansa Yogananda, Par-a-gram


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SR Atchley

SR Atchley

A writer, artist & dreamer, Shanna has been potentiating talent since childhood. She is moved by nature, the arts, and academia, along with the vast mysteries of our inner and outer worlds. Shanna has a BSN, and has spent the majority of her career caring for others. It is possible to share your dreams & talents with Shanna by emailing her, or connecting via Facebook, Instagram and Twitter. If all else fails, she’ll likely find you in a dream, in which case, please feel free to introduce yourself.
SR Atchley
SR Atchley