Welcome, love, not findable


Rupert Spira’s quote applies to just about anything in my experience of the world.

First I create it. The build it up. Then struggle with it. (Or not.) Then allow it. Then welcome it. Then love it. Then notice it’s not there. (As I thought it was.)

For me, one of the things I have struggled with is heartache.

I allowed it, and noticed it is already allowed (by life, consciousness, love).

I welcomed it. You are welcome here. I am sorry for having pushed you away. 

I loved it, and noticed it is confused love. I wish you love. I love you. Thank you for your protection. Thank you for your love. 

I looked for it. Found it as words, images and sensations. And didn’t find it as what I thought it was.

Through this, I also felt it. Is it true it’s too much to feel? How is it to feel the heartache? How is it to set aside images and words, and feel the sensations as sensations? How is it to see through the images and words, and feel sensations as sensations? 

Somehow, it feels more complete and thorough when these are all included – the allowing, welcoming, love, (un)finding, and feeling it.



I am reading Kundalini Vidya: The Science of Spiritual Transformation, and find it interesting and helpful. It is, of course, a story, and it can also be helpful in a limited way, especially when recognized as a story, as imagined. I see that for me, what they call the Makara point may have been reached a few years ago during a period of six months of clarity. This was followed by chronic fatigue and some serious unloading (of wounds, trauma, anything unresolved and sticky) and what they call restoration and renovation of the subtle body. I also see that the particular path that this may have taken for me may have been the Hrit process. For me, the unloading has centered around the heart, and that seems typical for that particular process. The Hrit process also seems associated with Christ and Christian mystics, they say that the purging process may be sudden and difficult if there are heavy vasanas left to unload, and that also seems to fit for me. And I am aware that I really don’t know. At most, it’s a story to hold lightly.

I have another sleepless night with things going on in the heart area. A thought calls it heartache. It seems connected to early childhood experiences (perhaps my mother being less available, relaxed and loving than I needed/wanted) and also the incarnation and (apparent) loss of the complete satisfaction between incarnations and before this one. There are also present circumstances which brings this up.

I hold satsang with it.

You are welcome here.

Thank you for protecting me.

Thank you for your love for me.

What would satisfy you forever?

What are you really?

I stay with each of these for a while, allowing it to sink in.


Heartache. Put the words up on a billboard. H-e-a-r-t-a-c-h-e. Is there a threat in those letters? In the word? If yes, what’s the images associated with sensations lending heartache substance? Is there a real, not imagined, threat in these images? (For me, these are more abstract images.)

What are the images associated with this heartache? Take each image and put up on the wall (in your mind’s eye) in a frame. Make it big. Notice it’s an image. Is there a real, no imagined, threat in that image? (For me, some are images from the past and future, and some are more abstract.)

What are the sensations associated with the heartache, lending a sense of reality? Notice and stay with these sensations. Is there a real, not imagined, threat in those sensations? Allow the sensations to be here. They have been pushed away for so long, now is the time to allow them, to notice they are already allowed. Notice how they change.

I notice that any sense of threat and reality in the heartache comes from words, images and sensations coming together into one apparent unity. When they are recognized as distinct and separate, and examined for threat, I see that what’s really there is quite different from the initial appearance. It loses it’s sense of reality and stickiness.

I can continue this exploration, looking for the “me” who has a heartache, or who has lost loves, or is unloved, or is unlovable.

For me, right now, what seems most helpful is to find that the heartache is love. It’s worried love. Here to protect (the image of) me. And also to notice that the label, images and sensations each are innocent, harmless. There is no threat there. There is no “me” with a heartache there, no “me” who has lost loves or is unloved or unlovable.

Notice: The first is from Pamela Wilson, the second is the Living Inquiries from Scott Kiloby. I am very grateful to both.



As part of the darkness seeking the light, as Adya says it, heartache has surfaced off and on for the last one or two years.

Here are a few things I notice:

My sense is that it’s roots, in this life, is from quite early childhood. It may have to do with feeling that my mother sometimes didn’t meet my needs. It’s connected with being frozen and paralyzed, and also a pattern of hesitating when I am at the threshold of something good, and losing the opportunity. Here are some beliefs: I am unloved, unlovable. It’s hopeless. I can’t have what I want.

Although the sensations may be quite mild, it’s experienced strongly because of the beliefs attached to it. Here are some beliefs: Heartache means something terrible has happened. What could have been would have been better (than this).

And some ways to explore it:

Ho’oponopono on the heartache, my response, the situations associated with it.

Meeting it in satsang. Notice it is from love, is love, and meeting it with love. Notice it is awareness itself.

Feel, breathe, ask the divine (Christ) for healing, to be shown what I need to see, ask how it looks from the perspective of the divine (Big Mind/Heart/Belly, Christ).

Go into Big Heart, and meet and hold the parts of me that feels unloved from (within/as) Big Heart.