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Listening to the Heart Blog

Living, exploring, expressing, spiraling the journey of womanhood one breath at a time, one day at a time, one achievement at a time, one blessing at a time.

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In Awe and Gratitude, I Walk

8/18/2016

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Life is a great mystery that responds when you truly put your intention and desire out there. You may seek and struggle and strive, then all of a sudden options unfold with grace. Like flower petals unfurling from bloom to blossom, angels arrive in flesh from spaces and places you may never have suspected-- the trees part, the path is made clear, and you are left smiling in wonder at the magic of this world. Again, and again, I continue to live in awe of the way this happens... Miracles happen. I have seen. I believe. I continue to keep my face lifted to the sky, my arms open like a chalice willing to receive, willing to serve. In awe and gratitude I continue to walk.
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A Circle Of Options

12/14/2015

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Life is not black and white,
yes and no.
Life  is a doorway with 360
degrees of options.
                ~Suzette Winona Summers
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Preserving the Flame

12/11/2015

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I have this fire on my fingertips,
and all I want to do is share this light--
Stoke a humble fire,
build a healing broth to nourish.
But the wind keeps blowing,
so, for now, I arch my wings
to preserve the flame.
                          ~Suzette Winona Summers
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Landscape of the Heart

7/25/2015

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The landscape of the heart is vast and diverse-- luminous mountains of joy may rise toward the divine, while vast canyons of sadness seem to span miles. There are deserts of fear, and fiery pits of anger. And though, as humans, we tend to long always for the peaks, the various landscapes we walk through serve to enrich our human experience when we are able to navigate them consciously. 

Several years ago I came to the conclusion that it was important for me to ground into my body. Ever since I can remember, it has been easier for me to live in my head--thinking, dreaming, planning, rather than showing up fully in my body--feeling, being present, taking action. Grounding into my body has been a beautiful challenge and lesson resulting in lots of long, slow inhalations, and long, slow exhalations that enable me to move through my emotions with more grace and presence.

I don't think I am alone in this experience. For far too long our culture has collectively put value upon intellect, while simultaneously de-valuing the importance of feeling. As a result, our culture tends to have an aversion to experiencing and expressing emotions because most of us are not used to traversing that terrain. Interestingly, this behavior mirrors our collective relationship to the wilderness. Most of our society lives a very mechanized, sterilized existence in an attempt to remain safe from the uncertainties, inconveniences, and dangers found in nature. The landscape of the heart is wild territory too. And so being, it is also rich and good and healing in ways that can be compared to a gorgeous vista-- you just have to go there and experience it for yourself. It is not always easy, convenient, or safe to get there, but it is worth the effort.

Sometimes the landscape of the heart is intimidating. It is at those times in the past that I have "checked out". The cliched deer in the headlights syndrome where I would freeze in terror. Afraid of what I might say or do if I felt too deeply into my heart. Afraid that I my fail or succeed. Afraid that I would never be able to walk through the canyon of  sadness, or even worse, that perhaps there was nothing on the other side.

In moments where my emotions seem too treacherous for me to journey into alone, I call upon a trusted friend to witness me...someone to walk beside me for a bit until I can remember that the canyon will not swallow me up, that I just need to keep walking, and that it is ok to take in all the gifts of my environment. And during those times when I need more than just to be witnessed, I call upon a guide--someone who knows how to ask the right questions to help me find the path I seek--be it anger, joy, sadness, or fear...because sometimes you know the fiery pit is there, you just do not know how to get to it.

In a workshop recently, I was reminded that we do not get to choose which emotions we get to experience. We do, however, get to choose the degree to which we get to experience our emotions. If we only want to glide over our sadness from a distance in a plane, then our joy will be something we only get a glimpse of too. Conversley, if we choose to hike into the valley of our sadness, noticing the sharp corners of grief and the broken bridges of regret, then the luminous mountains of joy will shimmer and shine with a glorious light as we stand upon their peaks and drink in the fresh, cool air of pleasure that can only be found there. 

While the journey is sometimes intimidating, the payoff is extraordinary. And if the thought of hiking into this territory frightens you, I encourage you to find a guide, or group of guides that will help you navigate your way into a fuller, more juicy experience waiting to be discovered in the landscape of your heart.

Take a deep breath and know that you are supported by the Universe.

Deep bows and blessings of love to you,
Suzette Winona Summers



*As a side note I am feeling called into being what I would like to call a "Heart-Centered Living Guide."
 If you would like to learn more about this, or are interested in being witnessed and held in love as you journey through the terrain of your heart, please contact me: summershawksong@gmail.com

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Surrendering Into I Am

1/23/2015

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The crows with their black wings gleaming
hidden rainbows. Their sharp beaks 
polished to a sheen 
pull at the flesh
I offer them freely. 
"Strip me," I say.
They pick and pick and pick
tearing each earthly chunk filled
with rockers on a porch, nested sleepers
creating a rhythm of breath that runs 
through life, dead dreams, broken doors,
bleeding heads. Cleaning the skeleton 
until there is nothing left 
but splintered bones
bleached white and dry
glowing in the moonlight
like a pile of magic;
waiting for breath of some 
unknown source to course
back in and fill their hollow centers
with rich, juicy marrow.
Waiting for the cycle to begin
again.
I exhale and give it 
all away, knowing,
this is the pulse of life.
I am all. I am nothing. I am.


~Suzette Winona Summers


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The Importance of Learning to Fal(-l+i)l

1/4/2015

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Yesterday, I took my children ice skating. I grew up ice skating, my children have been a handfull of times. With wobbly ankles and postures stiff and ready to catch themselves before they fell, they carefully became reacclimated to the mechanics needed to glide over ice on steel blades. 

My four-year old daughter was excited, and one of the primary motivators for us to go ice skating. Not surprisingly, she required me to hold her hands the entire time. Though it was exhausting for me to hunch over and hold her up making sure she didn't fall, while at the same time maintaining my balance, I was commited to making her experience enjoyable. Needless to say, it took us quite a while to get around the rink just once. Our time spent there was made up of taking several breaks (several for me on the ice) and a few for her where we would leave the ice and either go to the restroom, get a drink, or play with the toys in the main area.

Every time we got back onto the ice, I noticed she relied less and less on my holding her up. Then I saw a father patiently standing in front of his son, of about the same age as my youngest. The boy shuffled itty bitty movements over the ice slowly making progess. As I watched, I admired the father's patience, and the sense of independence and confidence this man was instilling in his child. After our next break, I decided I was going to try to encourage my daughter to do the same. 

As we stepped onto the ice, I praised the progess she made throughout the day and suggested she try skating without my hands. At first she refused, but I persisted, "Just try one baby step to me." She did and then purposefully slipped to her bottom. We continued this scenario around the rink and I found myself saying, "Don't fall down; stay standing. Keep taking baby steps." As I said these words a flash of babies learning to walk went through my mind. As I recalled each of my children learning to walk, I remembered a time when they would take a few steps, then intentionally sit or "fall" down. At once I realized that learning to fall was as much about learning to walk (or skate) as was learning to stand and keep your balance.

Practicing falling is not a bad thing, it is actually a necessary and good practice-- it allows one to learn to fall gracefully and safely, it makes standing less scary because falling is no longer an unknow act, but something you know intimately. When one learns to fall gracefull, the fear of falling becomes less. 

I was blown away by this epiphany, and suddenly began to praise her falling down, "Learning to fall down is a good thing, isn't it?" I asked. Her face lit up and she giggled as she slipped to her bottom with her feet splayed out across the ice. And each time she rose again to her feet, I saw her confidence build, and her balance become even better. 

After years of being afraid of failing, afraid of falling, I think I learned a great lesson from my youngest daughter: Learning to fall or fail gracefully empowers one to stand and succeed because it removes the unneccesary wasting of energy which is fear. So today, I am welcoming the failures, the fallures, and at the same time, learning to stand a little taller in each moment as I skate into the uncertain future. 
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Casting Poems

12/7/2014

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Each day I read poems
by authors whose language works 
its way like a foreign tongue
into my blood
and bones. Silently, growing
stronger, their rhythm clinks
around in this soul bag 
until I think it will burst. So, I plunge 
my hand into a sack of words,
feeling for the right ones, 
and cast them onto the page.
Like bone runes onto a stone 
table they clatter. My fingers dance 
across the letters. I read
 as they land, and weave
stories through their placement
until a picture forms
that you will hopefully swallow,
or view, like an oracle,
or even, a fortune cookie. 
                                ~Suzette Winona Summers
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Unfolding

12/6/2014

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I want to tuck myself into all the memories
that shift me like sand 
in the waves under my feet
from the mundane to awe,
from the compact to the infinite: 
the smell of papaya or sugar cane wafting
on a warm wind; the clouds that look 
like mountains or mounds of cotton 
candy billowing higher, and their gusts 
reaching down to brush back 
my wild mane; the last push 
before the perfect release
of a newborn baby--the smell 
of their head, their wails of desire
diving into the depths of this
swallowing eternity. 


As I fold myself into the dough
of my life, I watch children
rise past my stature, and love
grows bigger than a marriage,
or a dream lost. Love,
the sea I am only now beginning
to fathom, swells and ebbs, 
and its tide carries me along 
deeper into its center-less space,
devouring me without
my noticing. 

Knead me
into your being, sweet love,
envelop me into your message
written in wrinkles on my skin,
tuck me into the wind-smelled sheets 
where I can raise my tattered sails and drift
higher on silver dreams, 
full of fresh bread, salty seas,
and the messiness of common adventure. 

~Suzette Winona Summers

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Perpetual Journey

11/19/2014

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Coiling back into the warm,
dark ovate, each vertebra clicks 
into place. A million dreams
shift and congeal and I 
wind back into the smell
of humus--rotting leaves,
rich loam, whispers. 


If the days grow
colder, and light slips
through my cracked fingers
I will continue to delve 
deeper into the fire
that flares below
the surface of knowing.

I will continue to surf
the light ribbons of my 
mind and body 
until I touch the sun
with my lips. Fingering
it with my tongue,
I will carry 
that blazing orb 
like a pebble
in my mouth 
back to its 
source. 
~Suzette Winona Summers

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The Moon, She is Calling

9/8/2014

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She's so bright
spilling her light
all over my body,
drenching me in 
her magic cordial,
anointing me with 
her luminescent song
that echoes from the sun
through the night
onto my skin
though my bones
to my soul
through my feet 
to the earth.


I am a vessel
of messages,
an incantated channel
for blessings.


I am a woman stirring
in the wooing of her 
shimmering seduction.


~Suzette Winona Summers

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    Suzette Winona Summers M.A. is a mother, writer, artist, and circler of women following the call of her heart to empower herself, her sisters, and the world. Suzette embraces her purpose of birthing a new world through one breath at a time, one step at a time, walking through fear, disappointments, and difficulties into the light of a new day. 

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