Fall for The uniqueness of your own heartbeat

“There are days I drop words of comfort on myself like falling leaves and remember that it is enough to be taken care of by myself.”–Brian Andreas

Several years ago, I had the privilege of taking classes in order to become a certified yoga teacher. YTT, as it is often referred, was a year-long process that involved much reading, studying, and, of course, yoga practice. One of the more fascinating facts that I learned during this process was that each person has a unique heartbeat. It is a point of awe for which I find myself contemplating at times when I am in need of self-comfort/reassurance.

Driving home recently on a golden fall lit afternoon with gilded leaves swirling and whirling in a dance down to Mother Earth, I thought of our Creator and the unique gifts of creation all around. Ahead of me were the rolling hills of southern Ohio and beneath my road was a ribbon of river, sunlight glinting off its glassy flow.  Cracking the window and turning off the radio, I inhaled the crisp fall air as it glided through the car’s interior embracing me like an old friend.  Instinctively, one hand went to the heartspace of my chest, and in the moment, I felt the pulse of gratitude and sighed with peace.

Now, to be honest, it was also a sigh of relief.  I was more than happy to have the challenging work week behind me! However, that simple moment of gratitude and relief served as a reminder of the uniqueness of my heartbeat, and hence, the uniqueness of my own life.  Which led to my mind’s meanderings of the singularity of each individual life.

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It turns out that national agencies, such as NASA and The Pentagon (at the request of US Special Forces) , as well as private technology companies, such as Bionym, a Toronto based company, recently acquired by Inominds out of San Jose, have been researching and harnessing the technology around the unique heartbeats of individuals. According to Andrew D’Souza, the one time president of Bionym, the original maker of Nymi, a wearable device that the uses an ECG to identify the wearer, each one of us has a unique heartbeat that is based upon the size and shape of our hearts as well as the orientation of our heart valves and our unique physiology.  This individualized rhythm can slightly change with age, about every five years, and can also be altered if a person suffers a major cardiac event, such as a heart attack. Nonetheless, even with age or a cardiac event, our heartbeat remains unique to each person. Even when our heart rate is elevated from exercise, stress, or anxiety, D’Souza explains that electrically speaking, our heart waves still look the same. 

Without going into further scientific depth my rabbit-hole deep dive produced, an overall message kept emerging, each person’s heartbeat is definitively different and unquestionably unique to each individual.  The power of this knowledge brought me back to that sense of awe and wonder that I felt on the autumnal afternoon drive home.  Even after an exhausting week in which I felt like one lone worker ant in a colony of ants, each with our own humble roles, knowing that my heartbeat was not like that of anyone else was a comforting reminder that I am, indeed, a uniquely Divine creation. And so are you Dear Reader!

In a world where divisiveness and partisan language seeks to divide, separate, and categorize us into opposing factions, it is worth remembering that each one of us is a unique creation, a child of our Creator.  Our individual heartbeats can serve as a reminder that we are here to, as the saying goes, march to the beat of a different drummer and not necessarily to conform to any one group or one way of being. We were not created to be the same.  Indeed, each one of us is unparalleled, designed to offer our special gifts and talents to the world.  No one else can be me, and no one else can be you!

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Therefore, on days when you’re feeling out of sorts, overlooked, or overwhelmed, place your hand on your heart center.  Feel the one-of-a-kind rhythm of your own heart.  Allow its individualized cadence to serve as a reminder that you do matter.  No one else can be you.  You, and you alone, were created to follow your own beat, and offer your own rhythms to the world.  

Your heartbeat demonstrates that you are special, and YOU ARE.  Know it.  Believe it.  Act on it in a positive way by caring for yourself and your heart, so in turn, you can walk to the beat of your own drumming heart, blessing the world in the unique ways in which only can do. 

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Mom told us to get out outside and play!

Cricket’s Song

“When the cricket’s song is the only song you hear, how peaceful the whole earth seems.”–Marty Rubin

My face masks were washed from the previous week of work.  The sun had already kissed the horizon’s forehead before slipping away into the dusk, but it was not yet full dark.  I headed towards the garage of our home with the clean masks in hand in order to stow them away with the others in a large ziplock baggie I keep in my car.  Stepping down onto the concrete pad, I was struck by the singing of a lone, unseen cricket.

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Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye . . .goodbye, goodbye, goodbye . . .goodbye, goodbye, goodbye . . .”  sang the hidden insect.

It seems as if it is a rite of seasonal passage for one cricket to find itself trapped in our garage. Even as a child, I seem to recall a single cricket trapped in my family’s garage, and later, the laundry room. In fact, I can once recall sitting on the step to the laundry room during a summer stay at home from college, listening to a lone cricket chirp its tune of summer’s end, and feeling both the mix of anticipation and sadness at the changing of seasons within my own life.  

Later in the week, having temporarily forgotten the guest residence of the cricket in our garage, my husband, John, and I exited out of our car after a dinner out, and we were greeted by the sound of our guest once more.

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Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye . . .” our guest continued its mournful solo concert.

Even as I closed the garage door and turned off the light, I could still hear its song of summer’s end continuing despite no longer having an audience.  

Early the next morning, I walked out to the garage to once more stow away another item into the car.  The sun had not yet made its morning ascent, and the garage was filled with shadows and predawn edginess. As I reached for the garage door handle, I paused. The cricket was still singing its melancholic song.  I had to wonder at the miracle of this creature’s voice and sense of perseverance.  How could it continue to sing throughout the night–even if no one was there to appreciate it’s fine farewell chirrupings?

Entering the garage, its piping paused momentarily.  Then when no harm came its way, its singing resumed full strength as I made my way to the car with my belongings. Returning to the house, its trilling continued even as I shut the garage door.  

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye . . .”  

“The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last forever.”–E.B. White

The cricket’s reminder that change is coming.  Summer’s warmth will soon be passing.  Leaves will soon slip the bondages of tree limbs, grasses will fade, and wintry winds will whir their chilly thoughts soon enough.  Silky time slips slowly through a faucet of seasons, drip by drip, slowly weathering away the husks of our bodies like water gradually wearing down a rock, eventually returning it to the dust of our Creator.

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Shortened days and longer nights, 

Football and band songs

Sweaters and caps, 

Bonfires and marshmallows 

Amber and red swirl over 

A ribbon of black  

Soon the first kiss of frost.

“Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye . . .  

It’s been a week since the unseen cricket took up residence in the collections that fill the garage. Since then another loved one has left the earth; perhaps he sings for him.

Life is short

Life is sweet

Love is a river of time

Filled and flowing 

With the rhythm of

Seasonal rains and

Periods of drought 

Through, over, and around

Ultimately, returning to the Source

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye . . .”

The cricket bids you adieu, my friend. 

Dusk has slipped into night

Your tortured time 

Filled with shouts of pain

Has ceased into a timeless song of peace

Yet

Your imprint abides

Through students and players

O’er fields of dreams and

Work sites unseen

Through sons and grandchildren

And even four greats

Your legacy endures

May your hands be still at last

“Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye . . .” trills the cricket once more.

The cricket's song is a reminder that change is coming.  Goodbye warm summer days. Hello frosty autumn starts.  Soon we all will rest.