Heart to Heart
Jesus said, “When you make the two into one,
you will become children of humanity,
and when you say, ‘Mountain, move from here!’ it will move.”
— THE GOSPEL OF THOMAS
I believe in a world I can’t see yet outside of me. I can’t see this world I believe in with my eyes. These eyes though I’ve learned can be deceiving. This world is real though, more real than anything I’ve seen outside of me. This world is real even though I’m actually blind to what it looks like exactly. It’s real because I know it’s real. It’s real because I exist. I have believed in it before I believed in myself, before I even understood what it meant to believe. Before I really understood that my life is about doing my part, adding my grain of sand, my drop of water, my mustard seed, to the hope that one day, maybe not in my lifetime or my son’s, but one day that world I believe in will also be a world we can see outside of us.
Here’s what I know: I believe in a world that can’t be seen, only sensed with the heart. A world where we each inherit the worth of being human simply for existing. A world where power is what comes from within each of us, equally. Power is with us, not over or above; it’s shared. I believe in a world where we each get to use this brief time here to listen and follow the dictates of our own soul, not the limits of the ego, ours or anyone else’s. A world where we realize we have the genius, the imagination, and the commitment to feed, educate, house, and heal each other. Then we will have moved the story forward of what it means to be human.
Here’s what I know: if I believe in this world that I can’t see but can sense is real, is already here, right now in my heart, and if you tell me this world is in your heart, too, there’s hope. If this world exists in my heart and yours and we’ve never met, then the hope is even more immense.
If this world feels familiar to you, too, if you can sense it as I can, already here in moments, in glimpses, when we each forget ourselves to be there for one another, when we understand in our blood, our bodies, our bones, that we are connected, dependent even on each other, when we risk our own brief lives for this world none of us have seen yet with our eyes and yet so many of us, maybe more than we’ve ever yet realized, already exist more intensely there – elsewhere – this other world, where we rely on the heart for answers, where we take care of “the least of these” as a prophet once suggested to us, then little by little, or wildly like a wind-driven fire, we’ll live together into the day when the greatest depths in each of our hearts, still unseen as yet, will be fully revealed outside of us.
This world so many of us, most of us have believed in, retreated to, prayed to, and returned to in death, will be this world right now, too.
And we’ll find it’s not this world we’ve ever given up on. It’s that time and again, we’ve given up on the tremendous effort of having to die to our smallest, most terrified self, so that this great big unsayable love inside of us can finally breathe outside of us.
The most dangerous thing each of us can do is to give up on this world we can’t see yet. The most dangerous thing you can do is give up on this great big unsayable love inside you.
Because here’s what I know: your love is inextricably connected to mine. I will never fully reveal the depths of my heart without you.
I will never see this world of love I can only sense with my heart unless you see it, too.
This world exists, because I exist and you exist.
I will not give up on myself because I refuse to give up on you.
You who have never met me and share the same world of love in your heart.
Saints and prophets perform miracles, I’ve read. What in the world could ever be more miraculous than this – my heart speaking to your heart directly?
When we can see, and understand, the depths of that miracle, of that mystery, there will never be a mountain that we cannot move, together.
With only more love,
M.