A yoga practice for the heart
Have you ever felt like the heart is telling you one thing and the head is saying something else? This conflict sits at the crux of our contemporary life, where the head has long been favoured for its systemic analytical prowess causing the more subtle and intuitive intelligence of the heart to become lost along the way. This can be felt in the head-heavy ways we interact with ourselves, governing the body through a top-down approach. It can also be felt in the ways in which we meet the world around us, seeking uniform organisation and control within a wider system of nature that doesn’t adhere to this rigid linear structure.
The heart has the capacity to feel into our widest spectrum of emotions - ranging from expansive warmth to dark coldness, from a rich fullness to a stark emptiness. The heart holds it all. As the place in the body we might consider as the seat of compassion, the heart is able to both give and receive, experiencing a deep felt understanding for others and bathing in this compassion as it washes back to us. This is worth noting in those moments of emptiness. That it is within the heart's structure to refill again, in the same way it organically empties and fills with blood with each beat.
Let's consider the heart physiologically. A muscular organ, the size of your own fist, nestled amongst the chambers of the lungs and contained within the bony structure on the ribs. The beat of this small organ facilitates a one-directional blood flow following a figure of eight pattern through the whole circulatory system - delivering oxygen and nutrients as well as taking away carbon dioxide and other waste.
On an energetic level, we can also consider the Daoists approach to the heart explored through Qigong and Five Element Theory. Here the heart acts like the sun of the body, or supreme sovereign, and is particularly associated with the element of fire. Just like a fire, the heart functions best when tranquil, steady and calm, not burning so hot to cause destruction but not so weak that it depletes and eventually goes out. A Qigong practice can support the nourishment of this organ, through movements highlighting the rounded nature of the circulatory system and working to stimulate the hearts meridian lines that run from centre, through the inner arms to the little fingers.
‘When in balance, it is radiant like the sun and shines its generosity in all directions. A nourished, full heart allows us to appreciate beauty in the world. Its longing for sincerity, authenticity and connection makes us feel nurtured and fulfilled.’
Mimi Kuo-Deemer in Qigong and the Tai Chi Axis.
So how does this look as a practice? This can begin as a gentle awareness of the heart itself. I often use the hands on the front and back of the organ to highlight its space within the chest. Feeling in, can you sense the heartbeat? Is there a rhythm, a pattern or a sound to the organ? Through the hands, can you sense something tactile that anchors you into the constant movement of this powerful organ. This might not be immediately apparent, but with time and practice can build.
We could also consider how we could move from the heart. This can sound abstract at first. Often we are taught to move from our more peripheral body parts, reaching arms and legs into the world and condensing them back. How would it feel to extend the arms from the heart? Find the support from the organ centre and let it radiate out. In spacious, wide reaching shapes (say triangle or half moon) I love to feel the hands as an energetic expression of the heart’s warmth and compassion. The heart exists of duality, being both contained and spacious at the same time.
Experiencing from the organ of the heart becomes an exercise in compassion. We have the capacity to both give and receive this quality to and from those around us. This feeling fluctuates, in the same way the heart itself fills and empties and opens and closes its valves to function.
‘The heart possesses a generous capacity to be with uncertainty and accept duality. If I read the papers, my heart breaks when reading about the violence and anger unfolding in the world. Yet as I sit here and breathe right now, I can also feel immensely grateful for the warmth of my body, steadiness of my breath and blueness of the sky.
As the empress of your body, the heart has been given the mandate to govern. Its strength is that it can face difficulty while staying open to all that is beautiful, mysterious and sublime. Our heart can feel happy and sad at the same time, and know that despite whatever hardship may be unfolding, things are still okay. Unlike the mind, the heart is equipped to hold paradox.’
Mimi Kuo-Deemer in Qigong and the Tai Chi Axis