* What is an Open Heart?

From her book “A Heart Like His” Virginia H. Pearce writes:

And their hearts were opened and they did understand.

3 Nephi 19:33

The heart is a physical organ. It is also the center of our emotional and spiritual life. Exactly how all the functions are connected no one understands, but there is an undeniable relationship. I cannot attempt to describe it for you, only how it feels to me. At the risk of sounding a little odd, I can tell you that I can actually feel my heart change in physical texture, size, and position, in  relation to my spiritual condition. It gets hard and tiny and moves back behind my chest wall when I am angry and withdrawn and self-absorbed. On the other hand, when I am filled with love and reaching out to others, it softens and warms and moves forward—it is enlarged and full. Perhaps my mind is a trifle over active, but the imagery works well for me. After all the scriptures use it—soften and enlarged or hardened and cold—and so does Dr.Seuss, when he describes the Grinch’s heart growing three sizes that day.”4

These physical descriptions are critical for me to keep in mind because they are the originals that I have come to rely on to help me know what I need to make a change in my outlook and behavior.

When I was a young girl, I had the good fortune to take creative dance form Virginia Tanner, the American pioneer of children’s dance. My mother understood Virginia’s vision of dance—a belief in the beauty of creative expression. And although I and most of my friends did not become professional dancers, through her love of music and movement, Virginia taught us much about the beauties of life. I particularly loved the end of each class when we would put on our “Ginny Gowns.” They came in pastel colors and were made of soft, flowing fabric. And they were full. Yards and Yards of cloth that swept along as we ran, leapt, and twirled to the lyrical music from the pianist in the corner of the large room.

These spontaneous dances were not choreographed, and I can still Miss Virginia’s voice urging us to make our own beautiful patterns. Echoing in my memory is her call to dance with our “magic eye.” That meant to open our arms, drop our shoulders, and breathe with deeply, and lift forward with our bodies.

I think with my magic eye when I feel I am shriveled inward, crunched up with irritation and harboring a closed, critical, hardened heart. It is a helpful physical image. As I physically drop my shoulders, breathe deeply, and expand my chest, it reminds me to drop my defenses and ask the Lord to open and soften my heart.

Body language not only describes how I feel, it communicates the same to others. If I lean toward someone who is speaking, she feels my attentiveness and interest. Touching someone lightly can convey concern while dropping my eyes can signal discomfort. If I move slightly away and fold my arms in a closed position in front of my chest I communicate a desire for distance.

I came in from my early morning walk some time ago, invigorated and ready to start my day. But as I turned into my driveway, the beauty of the day evaporated, and the pressure of the day crowded in on me. Going through the back gate, I opened the kitchen door and within seconds I was into breakfast and opened the planner beside me, adding between hurried bites to my to-do list. Characteristically the list was much longer than the day, but I felt energetic and was just about to get on with it all when my husband started down the stairs, scriptures in hand.

“I don’t know what happened, but I’m just a few minutes early getting ready for work, and I’ve run into the most amazing scripture.”

I should have seen that as a wonderful invitation, but, Martha-like, I was “careful and troubled about many things” (Luke 10:41), and inside, this hard-hearted wife responded with an irritable edge. Well, isn’t that nice for you, but I’m already more than ten minutes behind in my day! I didn’t say that, because sometimes I remember how to talk nicely even when I feel otherwise, but I took my husband’s invitation as an intrusion.

“Oh, I’m really in a hurry,” I responded “Can we do it tonight?” Mid-stairs, he cheerfully answered,”That’s fine. No problem,” and he turned around and went back upstairs.

But that’s not the end of the story, because by this time I was a seasoned experimenter, and it took only a moment for him to get back to the bedroom door for me to recognize that I had reacted to him out of a somewhat shriveled heart. I heard the conversation in my head: irritated, critical, and all about me. So I dropped my shoulders, took a deep breath, and let my heart grow just a little softer before I said, “Wait a minute, I’ll get my scriptures and be right up.” Remarkably enough, his heart had not hardened in response in those intervening moments, and we had the sweetest five minutes talking about a particular verse.

Experimenting with an open heart taught me that one of my personal flags, one of the things that would help me recognize that perhaps my heart might need checking, is when I feel I can’t attend to someone because I’m too busy. Bad habit. And that’s all it is, I have discovered. Because an open heart isn’t as much a matter of time as a matter of being present, available, and open to whomever is in my physical space at any given moment. ~ Virginia H. Pearce, A Heart Like His (Salt Lake City, Deseret Book, 2006), p.17-22