As the heart opens, sometimes it seems like a sprouting seed, a tender shoot slipping thru the crack in a hard sidewalk.

Sometimes it happens slowly, imperceptibly, until that moment you notice the rose in full bloom.

Sometimes it’s hard work excavating the treasures of the heart from beneath crusted layers of hardened blood, until that scab that you’ve been itching to scratch finally falls away to expose pink, delicate new skin.

Sometimes it’s the beat of a distant drum, calling you to the dance.

Sometimes you feel it approaching like a midnight freight train, thundering closer: a whistle echoing thru the darkness.

As the heart opens, we wish it were glamorous, a beautiful blessing, a celebration. But the truth is that much of the time, we are on our knees weeping as our open heart gushes forth with a waterfall of messiness, and we are left breathless and wet-faced in a puddle of not-knowing-what’s-next, aware only that the threshold we were looking for has opened right here within our chest.

These are my notes - reflections for the labyrinth walk I facilitated today with Veriditas.org on the theme of Walking With an Open Heart.