We do not yet know what a heart is capable of. We think we do. It pumps blood, it falls in and out of love, it hurts, it heals. Perhaps it is more than name and form, perhaps it is more than a beat, a metaphor, more than this heavy red pounding behind the ribs. Perhaps it listens, watches, and waits, and is always moving ahead of us, already standing in our place; perhaps it is alive. It is a field, a vibration, a current of becoming. The heart already knows how to be. It’s not the mind with its maps and definitions, it’s much slower, softer. It doesn’t reason because it doesn’t need convincing. The heart is staying right here. It will carry you along.
In the heart of being-human, we become the wild continuity of breath, the tidal motion of blood, the faint percussion of the flesh. We are reminded that in this very instant, we are here, not elsewhere, and within us resides a vital source of living, breathing, and dying here alone and together on this earth. It is a flow of intensities that cannot be reduced to a single beat, but in a single moment it resonates a whole rhythm, an invitation into connection, an opening.
Why heart yoga?
Call it heart, spirit, mind, psyche, soul, god, whatever. This tender, radiant center has another kind of activity. The mind has learned endless patterns, the body its disciplines, but the heart yearns for practice. The question hovers like a moth. Why? Why? Why? Because it falters, because it rushes, because it flies too high into the sun and it breaks; and because it still carries us, because it might, if loved, open further beyond our imagination. The heart longs to grow into new capacities, to feel grief without drowning, to feel joy without loss, to expand beyond who we think we are. No push-ups, no flashcards, but taking turns, opening, trusting, and allowing ourselves to be broken, and close, and heal, and become broken open again. Why? Because we will have been free.
“What is heart yoga?” Versus “What does it do?”
It has nothing to do with right and wrong, good and bad. Definitions and structure are a mental game. Fundamentally, it’s about expansion. It is about entering into a process. Yoga means “to yoke” or “to join,” as in to yoke the heart to the body, or join the mind to the heart, etc. It’s not a system or a doctrine. It is a practice, a movement, a turning toward, often barely perceptible without precise knowledge. It is attuning to flows, the little surges and retreats that make up a life. It is not enough to ask “What is it?” But instead, “What can it do?” And the heart answers in gestures, in radiations, alone and in an instant, small tremors that escape words and reason. Practice is not separate from life, it is life. It is learning to be present with whatever comes, joy, fear, love, loss, without preference or blame, responding with an open heart. It is the willingness to be here with all that is.
How?
Alone and together now. Listening, watching. Getting started doesn’t mean going anywhere special. You don’t need to be anybody special either. It’s not only when you sit down at your desk or cushion. There is no formal beginning. You sit, or lie down, or walk along the street, crowd pressing in, and there it is, a pulse, a sigh, insisting. The heart is always and already practicing. It’s while you’re washing dishes. While you’re in a meeting. While you’re driving. While you’re listening to someone tell their story. While falling asleep. It is the mind that often grows distracted, and with neglect, it will cover the heart in dust. Anytime, anywhere, when you remember, the heart is available. The breath is here now. Remember: there is a body. Lean back (or forward) and allow the spine to lengthen into attention, and attention into a kind of witnessing. Can you feel that? Each moment saying: “Here. Here. Here.”
Getting Started: Get On With It (Go on, Get Going!)
Get on with it! Not tomorrow, not when you’ve “figured it out,” not after a nap, not after work. Don’t wait until you’re all cleaned up, until you’re feeling peaceful and well rested. The heart doesn’t wait for clarity. It is the engine of clarity. There is little hope in waiting until life is tidy to start living now. Begin here, amidst the mess, the noise, the uncertainty. The heart doesn’t ask for perfection. It just asks for presence.
This is not your typical escape plan. It is not running away, but a kind of intimacy with all things. It’s showing up for the full catastrophe. It’s finding out that your heart can hold a lot more than you ever thought possible. It was built to hold it all.
Go on. Listen to the music only you can hear. Learn your dance. Be what only you can be. Become who you are.
May this be for the benefit of all beings everywhere. May all beings live a life of ease and joy. ॐ नम: शिवाय रम रम
Jaya Sita Ram Jai Jai Hanuman
If It Means A Lot 
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