Purposeful Living

I find that the more I live according to the messages my heart whispers, the happier I am. Unfortunately, sometimes the clamoring in my head makes it hard to hear, for the heart communicates in whisper. When things are chaotic, my brain is roaring at the decibel level of a jet. Add in the kids' yammering and the activity necessary to get through life (driving, cleaning, talking on the phone, etc.) and it barely seems possible I'd hear that sound at all. I know that when I'm irritated, I pretty much tell it to shut up and purposely block it out. When I'm being willful and pretending I'm not, I carry on about not being able to hear it.
The point I'm getting around to, writer-style, is that I need to hear it. I know I need to. I also know how to. Some call it prayer, others meditation. Some don't formally name it at all. Some connect to their heart by talking out loud and weeding the interlopers out. You know, the heart will never say, 'Uh-oh. Better batten down the hatches. Trouble ahead and it looks bad.' You see, the heart speaks softly in volume, but also in content. The messages are usually more about love and the need for it, and the ways that it shows up when and where we least expect it. Love can be keys when things need unlocking, or glasses when we need to change our perspective. It can be a cane to lean on, a friend to listen, or even a series of red lights to slow us down and keep us from some impending danger we will never know we were headed straight for. Sometimes the love shows up as a friend wearing glasses who drives so slow that you catch every red light. You never know.
Here's what I know to be true: The more I listen and the less I talk the better off I am. Sometimes I just need to be told, like a child, to shut it for a while. I hope I can lovingly accept the message. I'm listening...