Always Seeking, Always Searching
with an ocean of depth in the heart (plus a workshop, retreats and a new interview)
Ochwiay Biano, an elder and political leader of the Taos Pueblo in New Mexico, said this to Carl Jung of the settler colonialists:
“They are always seeking something. What are they seeking? The whites always want something. They are always uneasy and restless. We do not know what they want. We do not understand them. We think that they are mad."
I know this seeking and restlessness well. I see it both in myself and everywhere I look around me. In some ways it’s the bedrock of our culture, and though it results in expressions of great beauty and innovation, it also creates enormous suffering.
Always seeking something. What are we seeking?
We’re like waves, searching and searching for something called water. We get tossed about in the storms of our own creation, colliding with the floating flotsam of years of conditioning.
It’s a scary and unstable place to be, but rather than dissolving back into the ocean, we build ships of identity from the debris around us, believing they’ll keep us safe from the storms. And though these ships are absurdly limiting, they at least give us somewhere to hide, so we clamber aboard, squeezing our vastness to fit inside them. Yet soon, the ships seem more real than the ocean itself. It becomes unimaginable to live without them, so our attention turns instead to improving, displaying and defending their importance and worth.
The constant vigilance of this state leaves us exhausted and depleted. We struggle to hold on to all we think we need, to push away all we believe we dislike and are afraid of, and we endlessly search for distraction from the hollowness exposed in empty moments.
We are vast oceans, yet we have limited our sense of self to the surface waves of our mind. Limited ourselves still further by the reactivity and conditioning we cling to, and the masks we defend and display.
Uneasy. Restless. Perhaps even mad.
When Jung asked Ochwiay Biano why he thought the whites were mad, he replied, "They say they think with their heads." Placing a hand on his heart, he said, "We think here."
What would that mean, to think with our hearts?
How might it feel to climb down from these carefully constructed ships of identity? To release the compulsion to surf waves of thought? To enter the ocean?
How might it feel to come into the body so fully that we once again feel the ground?
How might it feel to re-establish expansion and spaciousness where once was contraction and collapse?
What would happen if we allowed ourselves to breathe: slow, full and into the belly?
Would we begin to feel, perhaps?
What would happen if we really began to feel?
Sir Anthony Hopkins wrote:
“We live in a world where funerals are more important than the deceased, marriage is more important than love, looks are more important than the soul. We live in a packaging culture that despises content."
When did we become so afraid of our depths?
I am finding my practice and work turning back again and again towards liberating these deeper currents which move through us. Liberating the naturally fluid, flowing energies of emotions from the conditioned habit of suppressing them and the carefully developed compulsion to embellish them with story and content.
I am learning, and guiding others who wish to learn too, to embrace emotions here in the body instead, with so much love. So they simply flow.
Because as we hold that flow with love, something grows in us too. Holding anxiety grows equanimity, and over time we come to discover love’s limitless freedom. Holding anger grows compassion, and liberates love’s graceful power. Holding grief grows courage, and leads us into love’s melting reverence. Holding fear grows trust, and reveals love’s gentle peace.
The wave, becoming still, sinks back into the ocean to remember that freedom, grace, reverence and peace are actually already here. Who it always was. Who it already is. Who it will always be.
The restless searching, the cold-hearted seeking, soothed. Stilled. Finally home.
Becoming still, we come into the body. We breathe. We unhook from compulsive narratives and soften around congealed beliefs. We receive the support of wisdom, aliveness and beauty flowing towards, around and through us. And we feel, fully, with so much love.
Because we, too, can think with the heart.
And we, too, can respond to life from the heart.
It’s time.
Join me…
May 18th: Yoga and Meditation Workshop from 1.30-4.30pm at Love Supreme Projects. We will practice yoga and meditation together, slowing down, realigning and opening the body, deepening the breathing, and feeling what’s alive for us right now, with so much love. We will honour the different ways love feels and flows in the presence of beauty, pain and everyday moments. Thinking with the heart, responding from the heart, coming home to the depths.
April 27th & December 8th: Day Retreats at Wasing. These include a long morning of yoga and meditation, followed by silent walking meditation through ancient woodland to a secluded swimming lake, lakeside sauna, firepit and woodland lunch spread, and ending with late afternoon restorative yoga and meditation. April 27th is full, but there are often last minute changes, so contact me if you’d like to be added the waiting list. Spaces are still available for December.
September 30th - October 6th: Six Day Retreat at the Moulin de Chaves in France. The days are infused with yoga, meditation, swimming in the river, eating delicious food, being held by the blessings of silence and community, reconnecting to what really matters and releasing what no longer serves us. We stabilise and lengthen the body, soften the heart and open the mind in order to taste, touch, breathe and feel the infinite space within and all around us. There are two spaces left for this year’s retreat.
April 2nd - 6th 2025: Four Day Retreat at Sharpham House in Devon. I am happy to be returning to the wonderful Sharpham House next April! Bookings have now opened for this retreat with rooms available on a first come, first served basis.
Listen…
I was interviewed for the podcast The Monk on a Motorbike, created by the lovely Danny Hill, who alongside being a podcaster is a nurse, coach, mindfulness teacher and long time meditator. We explored my path into the world of yoga, meditation, dharma and animism. An account of following the heart and listening to life’s invitations, whilst walking into the unknown. And of course, I’m still walking…
🦋 Having recently returned from a silent meditation retreat myself, I am feeling renewed gratitude towards these powerful practices of yoga and meditation, and am so grateful for their gifts in my life. Such a blessing. Through these practices I feel enormous confidence in my capacity to meet anything and everything life may bring with grace. And that gives a very precious feeling of freedom. I hope I can do my small part in sharing that inspiration and confidence with you. 🦋