Power and the Open Heart | Rabbi Shefa Gold

Our parents, worried for our safety instilled in us the notion that fear would keep us alive. Being careful meant being afraid of the hazards that the world laid in our path. The world indeed seems a dangerous place. Each day new calamities shock us. Dangers that we hadn’t even imagined a few years ago lurk around each corner. Our conditioning says that if we are afraid, then we will be careful and if we are careful then we are more likely to survive. Unfortunately there is a price that is paid in following this strategy. Fear sends us to our “survival brain” and cuts us off from our deepest wisdom. The survival brain’s flight or fight mechanisms are fine when it comes to reacting to black and white, but in a world of rainbow complexities we need access to the full range of possible response.

When I teach a meditation retreat everyone ends up so very openhearted. Fear that once armored the heart dissolves, laying bare the tender core of compassion for all… loving themselves, each other and the world… feeling God’s love with each breath. It feels alive and wonderful, but then the question usually arises — How can I possibly go out in the world like this? Without my fear, which is the source of my caution, I’ll be clobbered! With so much trust in my heart, someone will surely take advantage of me.

One answer, of course, is to help everyone close down. Closing the heart is a means of protection. If I am going to teach my students how to open their hearts I also have the responsibility to teach them how to protect themselves. The problem with closing down at the end of a retreat is that this creates a dichotomy between the spiritual life and the mundane. If I am to teach open-heartedness, it must be open-heartedness in the face of both the wonder and the agony of this unpredictable world.

The answer that I’m coming to in my own life is that teachings that open the heart must be balanced by practices that cultivate personal power. The power that I’m talking about comes from deep within the heart. Its source is in God and it radiates out through the body charging up the energy field. As I build the strength of that field, my heart can open wider. Within that field of power I can be vulnerable, honest, exposed, loving and openhearted.

Another question I ask is “Is there another source, besides fear, for my care and vigilance and warriorhood in the world?” The alternate source that I cultivate is Love. I am a lover of Life and the passion of this love moves me to nourish, preserve and exalt Life. All my heart and soul and might stands behind this love. My fear of death is not ultimately what keeps me alive. At the center of my open heart is a power, a light that radiates outward into my life. It is the best protection. It is a shield that lets the world in, (but doesn’t let its destructiveness distract or confuse me). Within the strength of this field of power (not my power, but God’s power) I am confident that I will meet the world with the light of my soul, with a presence and a radiance that is not diminished by suffering. Practices that cultivate personal power without paying attention to sustaining the openness and vulnerability of the heart run the risk of self-corruption. Without the open heart, power stands behind the ego and is filtered through its distortions.

My choice of cultivating trust doesn’t mean that I am being naïve. To trust is to search out the goodness in the world and call it forth with our attention. Trust transforms the world. When I cultivate trust, I also cultivate discernment. When I work to open the heart, I also learn the power of radiance, a radiance whose source is in God. I speak to that power that is shining through me and say, “Use me.” And then I work to become a clear and powerful instrument. This work is expressed by a commitment to a daily practice which maintains the strength and openness of my energy body.

On September 11th when disaster struck I looked inside and found myself disconnected from that center radiant power. All I found there was a shakiness. The fear was in my body as it was in the corporate body. A few days later was Rosh Hashana and it felt as though I had nothing to say, nothing to give to my congregation. I only knew that I would somehow be with them. Since it wasn’t clear that the airlines would be flying, my husband and I rented a car and drove from our home in New Mexico to the congregation in California. The moment we hit the open road something in me shifted. Because I had surrendered in service, my access to that radiant power returned. The shakiness was gone and a calm spaciousness took its place. A rainbow appeared in the sky over Route 40 in western New Mexico, surprising us, sending us. About a dozen other cars pulled off the side of the road to watch this miracle. I stopped long enough to notice that when I am on my way to do God’s work, the work of serving, the work of presence, then I am freed from my enslavement to fear.

Freedom in our tradition is not merely a “freedom from”… from oppression, suffering, or servitude. It is a “freedom to”… to be in direct relationship with God our liberator. Being in that relationship means serving the One, the Whole, the Holy. It means serving the Truth that emerges from the widest perspective even as we pay attention to the smallest detail. Our freedom depends on this servitude.