The Heart of It
This is a rich and deep one. Plus, there's a special gift for you.
Read on for a seasonal 25% discount on paid subscriptions, gifting suggestions, as well as an exploration of the heart and the fourth gate in our journey of Inanna. This note is likely to be truncated by your email provider, so click through to Substack where you can read it in your browser. And while you’re there, drop a ♥️ or join the conversation by leaving a comment!
Dear Friends,
Andrew just blew in, a wool cap crooked on his head and a stack of wood in his arms. Nights here have been in the teens and we’ve quickly slipped into the winter rhythm of keeping the wood stoves fed and watered (the air gets quite dry if we don’t set a pot of water to evaporate on the stovetop). The bears have been active— mamas, cubs, and a tank-sized male who I named Leroy when he first appeared a few years back.
The tart apple air and the scent of woodsmoke have roused me from my hurricane induced stupor. Thinking? Yes, maybe I can do that. Planning? Perhaps I should try.
Yesterday, I counted out the weeks on the calendar and realized I’d been so in need of Inanna— a metaphoric and purposeful descent to counter-balance the plummet into (literal) darkness my community experienced in late September— that I hadn’t mapped out the progression of the gates and how it would work with the “long winter’s rest” I always take from the Winter Solstice through New Year’s Day. Today we are on Gate 4, which puts the final Gate on Christmas Eve and the wrap-up (the return to the light) on New Years Eve. There’s something poetic about this structure AND, while the journey is contemplative for you, it’s work for me to put it together. I don’t want to dishonor myself or the season by skipping my moment of hibernation (plus I have a stack of books to read and a novel I’ve been sketching out that keeps whispering for my attention).
So here’s my solution:
On December 17, I will include a PDF of the entire journey and post a video talking you through the final descent and the return. I’m thinking of it as a little solstice gift for paid subscribers. This will allow you to complete the journey in a way that syncs up with your holiday schedule. Additionally, I will pre-schedule short posts on December 24 and December 31 so those who aren't paid subscribers can complete the journey. Please note that I will not be replying to comments on Substack or answering emails during that time. (Also, if the Substack Gods flub the pre-scheduled post, I won’t know until I return to my desk on January 6).
Seasonal Giving
For those of you who have a ‘tween you’re shopping for, The Night School for Young Mystics makes a lovely gift.
I continue to get such gorgeous feedback on Letting Magic In. This memoir reads like a novel and is the perfect companion for people who want to connect with their inner-wisdom and for those trying to gracefully navigate a big life change.
Or ... you could give a gift subscription to Something True! Think of it as a conversation started within your friend group. Additionally, your subscriptions allow me to continue to create rich and deep content extras.
25% Off Paid Subscriptions through December
In order to facilitate more of you being able to get the video and PDF and to continue a lovely tradition I began a few years back, I’m offering 25% off annual subscriptions through December 31.
(When I offer a discount, I know there’s likely to be someone who paid full price right before the discount went into effect and who might be smarting at having paid full price. The only way around this is to never offer discounts, which would be sad for all those who can’t afford to join us otherwise. I always strive to make the content worth it, no matter what price you paid.)
A note on subscriptions (because this is a new concept for a lot of folks): For many years, I offered classes. They were a huge push to create and manage… and then I collapsed in an exhausted heap afterwards. The subscription model lets me drip out content and the newsletter model supports my favorite mode of teaching, which is through story. Your subscription makes all of this sustainable (and it’s a heck of a lot cheaper than a class!).
And now, the fourth gate, the gate of the heart…
I remember, as a teenager, lying on my horse’s back, torso draped over his neck, my arms dangling, nose buried in the straw and dust scent of his coat. My entire body would relax, muscles unwinding, my cheek scratched by his sun-warmed mane.
Sometimes at night, the fire flickering in the wood stove, I lay like that now, my cheek on Andrew’s chest, feeling its rise and fall. I don’t consciously hear his heart, but my body knows the comfort of its beat.
Last week, my own heart aching, I walked through our woods surveying the tree tops for storm damage. So many upper limbs twisted and snagged. In the distance, chainsaws hummed. It’s always chainsaws, now.
My eyes welled up and, impulsively, I moved up against a tree, a poplar I pass daily on our walks. I leaned the whole of my body against its trunk, letting it take my weight. My arms circled round and my ear rested on its bark. The same peace came over me that I felt with my horse, that I feel with my husband. I relaxed further and heard a swishing under my ear. I’ve leaned against many a tree and never heard anything similar. Whoosh, whoosh. Startled, I pulled back and glanced around. The woods looked serene, or as serene as they could in their storm-damaged state.
I eased back up against the tree. In the distance the chainsaw’s song was followed by a rattling thump. That’s the rhythm now— the whine of the saw, the thump of a tree hitting the ground. Under my ear, something deep within the poplar also thumped. A mirror, a mourning. It was like the root system of the entire valley carried the sound of one tree falling.
What is a heart?
That is what Inanna must contemplate at the Fourth Gate.
Is it the organ that pumps blood through our body? The intricate root system that connects us to those we love? (If you want a gorgeous meditation on connecting with trees, check out this
post).The word for heart in Latin is cor. From this root comes the words courage, discord, concord, and cordial, words that speak of how we relate to others and ourselves.
If you’re just joining us, we are using this time, as the light lowers and the world darkens in the Northern Hemisphere, to trace the path of the goddess Inanna.
On a journey to the Underworld, Inanna must pass through seven gates, giving up something at each. You can find a full introduction as well as the first gate here. Then go on to the second and third gates.
It’s easy to hear the word “heart” and immediately jump to the idea of romantic love. But the terrain is much richer than that. Think of the ways your heart expresses itself: the pain it can quite literally feel when grief sweeps through you, the expansion and wonder that can come with a sunrise.
So when Inanna gets to the fourth gate and is told to give up her breastplate—the armor that protects her heart—this is not small thing.
How do you protect your heart? And do you need to?
What is gained and what is lost by protecting one’s heart?
When you think of armor, consider all the things that protect you. This protection may come from an aspect of your personality or it may be more physical— you might protect yourself with verbal judo… or with actual judo.
Your breastplate, your armor, keeps you safe from physical harm and, also, emotional harm... it protects your heart in a myriad of ways. This protection allows you to walk in the world with an illusion of safety.
What would it feel like to take off your breastplate?
This is an interesting one, since some camps idealize going through life with an open heart.
Dig deeper.
Is having an open heart the same as an unprotected heart?
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