The Long Conversation in My Heart

Paying Attention to What is Being Spoken Inside the Heart

There is a long conversation happening in my heart this spring. I am slow to listen; slow to understand; slow to put into words with a new voice. But, I am trying.

I’m not trying to overload your in-box, but this week, I know this is my third Substack post. It’s because of the long conversation going on in my heart. I could keep it all for myself, but I’ve hoarded far too many thoughts over the years. Now is my time to speak these out more fully and to speak with my new voice—a voice I have been trying to find for many years.

Besides, I’ll be taking a break in June as Gwen and I do a pilgrimage to Iona, Scotland. This pilgrimage as been “on again/off again” as Gwen is still recovering from her total shoulder replacement—which sort of went sideways. Her intense pain has subsided but after test, consultations and lots of physical therapy, we’re now positioning ourselves for a 12-24 month time of recovery for her feeling to return to her hand where the nerve damage happened. So, we decided to go ahead and do this particular pilgrimage. We’ll be spending 8 days on an island with John Phillip Newell, the author I’ve been so taken with for the past two years. We’ll be on retreat, secluded on this historic isle where Christians have flocked to for spiritual refuge and solace.

Iona became a haven for Celtic Christians to flourish. Perhaps, because it was so remote that the Roman imperial religion could not control what happened way off on a tiny island in the sea. Islands really are places for the soul to rise up within and speak in a way that is different than the soul speaks on the mainland.

First, and to put this Substack post in context, let me share with you a poem by the poet, priest and prophet of the soul—Mary Oliver. Her poem “Thirst” is a poem to memorize if you can. Read it slowly. Everything should be read slowly.

I’ve noticed how people, when first reading poetry or prose, read it like we are in 5th grade—afraid we will misspeak a word or shy to use inflection, pause and space. We learn in our new voices and with age, to enter “slow time” more often and perhaps this is the key to awareness and contemplation—that seedbed of listening to the Voice from beyond.

Now, Sister Mary’s poem, “Thirst.”

    Thirst
    by Mary Oliver

    Another morning and I wake with thirst
    for the goodness I do not have. I walk
    out to the pond and all the way God has
    given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord,
    I was never a quick scholar but sulked
    and hunched over my books past the hour
    and the bell; grant me, in your mercy,
    a little more time. Love for the earth
    and love for you are having such a long
    conversation in my heart. Who knows what
    will finally happen or where I will be sent,
    yet already I have given a great many things
    away, expecting to be told to pack nothing,
    except the prayers which, with this thirst,
    I am slowly learning.

What is it that you first notice in Oliver’s poem? Read it again and this time, read a sentence even more slowly and with pause, allowing light and meaning to come as if reading in a Lectio style actually helps us connect the words written to our hearts that are waiting.

What comes to mind?

Now, here is my poem, titled, “The Final Push of Spring.” In this poem, I try to give words to the long conversation.

I am well aware now, that here in the mountains of Western North Carolina, we really are in the final days of Spring. I planted my tomatoes. I put the herbs into the soil, making space for sunshine, weeding and watering. The temperature is rising now into the low 80’s—a sign that everything is waiting; everything is ready—but waiting for what? I think the final push of Spring is here to notice and amend our fast pace living to take one more long pause with the grand conversation happening in each one of our hearts. Here is the poem for you to read and hopefully feel the invitation to enter the long conversation happening already inside of you.

Here are a few of the images, I took this morning—the invitations for me to have that “long conversation” Mary Oliver is referring to….

This first image is of the new ferns emerging up from the winter soil. I use this image in my poem that I am posting below.

And this glorious Rhododendron is in the woods right by my house. Can you believe her size and the number of blossoms? I have to stop—I have to pause—I have to listen to the long conversation every time I look at her!

Now, my poem. My poems are for those of you who choose to support my work by becoming a “Paid Subscriber.” Welcome to all who subscribe. For my profound gratitude for those going the extra mile with me to aid me in this work.

Do yourself a favor before you read my poem. Go outside to read it. Anywhere outdoors will do. Just see what happens and share with me, if you would…

That’s it for this week…

Steve