The world stands out on either side no wider than the heart is wide. —Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892-1950)Good Morning Nearest & Dearest,
You really are nearest & dearest to my heart and soul—because we can commune Together with One Heart—at the Soul level. In speaking to those who live only at the level of the world, have you noticed that at times it is as if you are speaking another language?
You may remember this from the angels: Although angels speak another language from humans, they understand the language of the heart, so they can converse with anyone. The only language that really matters is the only language angels care about: The Language of the Heart. The language of the heart is the universal language of peace.
Some of you may know or remember that in January 2021, a Tuxedo Cat found me in a parking lot one icy cold night as I stepped out of the woods, where I had been walking (yes, I sometimes walk alone at night in the dark woods). I heard a cat crying and there he was, huddled in a ball of cold, as if he was waiting for me. He moved away each time I came near, and I gently followed him, pausing each time he did, around the entire parking lot, till we ended at my car and I was able to pick him up.
I stopped at a store to buy him food. He was nervous and slept somewhere in the living room when I went to bed. I was very aware of another presence in my house. And determined that I did not want a cat.
I tried very hard to find his home, but no one answered my posts, and I could not find him in any lost posts. And I fell in love with him. He had found a home where he would be loved and cared for—my home, which became his home.
He was very shy and would run and hide when anyone else came to my house. But he always trusted me. It was as if we were two souls who had reunited. I named him Emerson Charm. He was about 1 year or so old.
When dear sweet Emerson Charm came to me, he was at first afraid. He didn’t know how to respond to loving touch. His claws automatically came out and my hands suffered many scratches. I made a conscious determination to never be harsh with him. I continued to be soft and gentle and he transformed—or rather, he melted into his true being.
I wanted to give him a chance to be as he was, not confine him in a box of my definitions. I did it imperfectly because I am imperfect, but I did it. We had a close and loving relationship. He had the freedom to come and go and roam the woods and he always had a safe haven to return to. His home held no hostility or anger. I never spoke harshly to him. He died only a year and half later, from a fatal disease, though I tried hard to save his life.
I miss him greatly. He was so young, and so wise and true.
Can we create this same gentle loving home within ourselves, which I created for Emerson? Even when the world outside is not so loving? Even when people speak harshly to us? Even when it seems the world is speaking another language from us? Then you always have a safe haven to return to, no matter how harsh the world is.
Much love, as always,