Read this next time you’re ready to give up on love

Four years ago, in the midst of a personal dark night of the soul, I wrote a poem.

It goes like this:

It may feel lonely,
At first as you part.
Yet you walk not alone,
You walk with your heart.

The path of the heart,
Has no teachings,
No rules.
It only asks:
Are you willing to be called a fool?

Fool of the heart,
Reigns supreme.
In the light of pure truth,
It’s your reason for being.

You walk not alone,
This path of the heart,
Please trust your becoming,
Your becoming is art.

This simple parable has become a trusted advisor in my life, a touchstone I return to in times when my heart guides me to take risks that hold no guarantees, that don’t make sense, and that sometimes require uprooting and replanting my life as I knew it.

One such risk unfolded last year. Right as the pandemic started with lockdowns in March 2020, I became painfully aware of my heart’s long-held desire for romantic partnership.

When the outside world became quiet, the volume on my heart dialed itself up—and there was nowhere to go to distract myself from it. Dreams for partnership weren't new in my life; I’d dated and dreamed of partnership for years up until that point. Yet as lockdowns set in and the possibilities for meeting someone seemed way less likely, I felt like I had two options: collapse into despair and/or get creative. I decided to nurture the latter.

I started a diary where I’d write love letters to my partner as if he were real and there with me. Thanks to reading one of my favorite books The Way of the Rose in February 2020, I started praying the rosary every day and asking the Divine Mother to choose a romantic partner for me and bring us together in a magical way, in a way that was in harmony with my true heart’s desire...for my highest good and the highest good for all.

In the midst of all plans canceled, all restaurants closed, and no new faces in place, I turned deeper into my heart’s dream seeds and quietly tended to them in the dark, trusting that the light would return again.

In my experience, growing the heart’s dream seeds isn't a linear process with a neat to-do list to check off in an orderly way. Ask for one thing, and life might begin guiding you in a completely different direction that seems unrelated.

So it was with this heartfelt dream.

Two months into the pandemic, and two months into nurturing renewed faith towards my heartfelt dream for partnership, I started to feel incredibly uncomfortable in my home, the home I LOVED and had absolutely no prior intentions of leaving. All of a sudden I felt like I was crawling out of my skin in the house—or rather like a skin was shedding—and this home was no longer a fit. I knew I was being invited to move.

What? Why? I asked for love, not a new home.

In the past, I've uprooted my whole life hoping I'd meet someone along the way and didn't ... so to be honest: even with this call to move that I was committed to honoring, I felt willing and cautiously hesitant.

Listening to the heart’s desire is like following a treasure map, where often only the very next baby step is revealed in which you’re invited to complete before receiving the next step. There also aren't any guarantees. So even though I felt the strong call to move, I wasn’t told where. I gestated on this for a few weeks, honoring the uncomfortable feeling and call to move, yet having no awareness or guidance where I should go.

I leaned into my practices to assist me again and asked for guidance that truly served my highest good—and in the middle of a breathwork meditation, I had a clear inner vision of tall trees with a wall of windows. It felt like Northern California.

I planned a trip to visit a friend in Nevada City, and while I appreciated the magical Yuba River and its tall trees, it didn’t feel like the place for me. Shortly thereafter, I was scheduled to lead a small private retreat in Mt. Shasta, staying at a dear friend’s retreat home. On my drive up to Mt. Shasta, I started to feel an electric energy inside…like I was getting closer to something special. Am I moving to Mt. Shasta? I wondered out loud while driving.

When I arrived in Mt. Shasta last summer, several synchronicities awaited me, encouraging my decision without directly telling me what to do. I felt wrapped in the wings of the endless cedar, pine, and fir forests. I felt relieved. I felt home.

I started looking up housing and rentals, yet found it increasingly frustrating and challenging. A tiny mountain town in the middle of a pandemic is prime real estate, and it seemed there were little to no options for my move. Still, I leaned in and planned another exploratory trip to Mt. Shasta at the end of August last year, setting my intention to find a place to move into for the fall.

On this trip, my dear friend who owns the retreat home invited me to temporarily move in during the off-retreat season, from October to May. “That way you can get a feel for what it’s like living here, and see if you want to stay longer.” My whole heart lit up upon this invitation—it was like my heart had finally found a piece of its treasure with a full-body YES!!! I’m in!

I packed up my Topanga home and moved north into my friend’s retreat home last year on October 13th. After choosing this date for the move in, I found out that October 13th is known as “The Miracle of the Sun” and closely connected to Mother Mary, an expression of the Divine Mother I feel deeply devoted to. I wrote about it on Instagram last year here.

When I agreed to move into my friend’s retreat home, it was initially going to be just the two of us; he travels quite frequently, and I liked the idea of having spaciousness in the midst of this new beginning. We planned to leave the third bedroom open for guests.

That is until my friend received a call from someone looking for a place to rent specifically from October through May. And to make a long story short, this someone and I both ended up moving to Mt. Shasta on October 13th...and while it didn’t happen overnight (and it took time for me to fully open to it, given the unique nature of our situation!), we've ended up falling in love.

In spite of leaving a city with 2,000x more possible romantic connections than Mt. Shasta (population: 3,500), and in spite of moving in the middle of a pandemic, the least likely time to meet someone, my heart’s compass knew exactly where to direct me.

The heart is psychic and intricately connected to the infinite web of the world.
It bypasses logic and reason and holds its allegiance tried and true to the great mystery.

That doesn’t mean there won’t be challenges. Uncertainty. Heartache. Angst. It doesn’t mean there isn’t a divine timing or divine ripening to each heart’s dream seed bloom. I was single for seven years before meeting my partner, and many of those years felt personally lonely for me, yearning without fulfillment.

Following the heart also doesn’t have to be drastic. In making my choice to move to Mt. Shasta, I was single with no kids or pets. My business is 90% online, and I thankfully had resources to move. Our hearts honor our unique life path and can guide us to big things in the smallest ways. Little by little, step by step. Our transitions can be gentle.

I share this today in the midst of our troubled world not to bypass the existing challenges with an aloof cry to simply follow your heart. Yet at the same time, I hold immense faith in the relentless grace and divine power of the heart. Its calls are invitations to meet the momentum of these times, even (perhaps especially) the less logical they seem.

Or in the words of my poem:

Please trust your becoming,
Your becoming is art.

I also share this story because my offerings flow directly from my life experience, and I tend to create new courses in order to invite others where I’ve gone myself.

In that spirit, my next offering will help you hear your heart’s call just as I did in hearing and following my heart’s call to Mt. Shasta so that I could meet my love.

Starting in February, I’m leading a group mentorship program called Heartfelt Dreams. The invitation is for you to receive practices that help you feel more confident hearing the voice of your heart and following its nudges as your guide. In a world that feels chaotic and noisy, finding your compass within brings both peace and confidence, and you’ll learn the exact same practices I used to hear the call for my own life’s unfolding. If you’re interested in learning more about this once I open up enrollment, you can sign up here.

Love,
Madeline