I feel an emptiness in my heart, but past the emptiness there is the wall of a canyon. When I call out to my heart, my voice echoes against it. There is a depth that opens in expectation to carry a fullness. My heart is preparing for something. At times I feel an ache in my heart, a pulling, a vacuum with the power to consume the world. The darkness of a black hole. I'm not sure why I don't allow the full power, maybe it’s hope, or faith, but I do allow the dilation of the dry red and orange canyon, the slow sweeping expansion that cracks the walls in its growth through the pain and piles them into mountains. I fill the cracks with veins of gold that glimmer in brilliance. A circle forms around my new mountains, a radiant holy halo that helps me to feel protected, shielded, safe.

I nourish this valley with the tears of disappointment, rejection, and grief. These tears create a blue hue of moisture that is needed to grow into a verdant valley, a garden with fragrant flowers of every color, that fill it with a sweetness that envelops me with comfort as I visit here.

I notice as I spend time here tending this garden, more and more lushness surrounds me, more joy, more love, and I can sense a subtle desire to share my heart space, which I feel is gaining momentum.