Hello wonderous Souls,

Today, I am sharing a few insights with you; they may appear eclectic, but bear with me, they are indeed connected.

Listening to the Heart’s Invitations

Recently, a steady stream of inner guidance has been asking me to drop more deeply into my heart. These messages feel like preparation for the Heart-Centred Meditation series I’m developing, yet they also carry something more personal, an initiation into a different way of understanding the heart itself.

One insight arrived with particular clarity:
the heart is not a single centre, but a network that extends into the palms of the hands and the soles of the feet.

In this way, the body holds five heart centres, the primary heart in the chest, and four extensions that radiate its field. This explains what I’ve experienced for so long: waves of warmth in my palms, tingling in my feet, and currents of energy that rise whenever I enter heart-centred practice. These sensations are not peripheral. They are the heart speaking through its wider circuitry.

Animal Wisdom Across Lifetimes

As this understanding has unfolded, another awareness has deepened, my long relationship with animals and the wisdom they carry. In the Living Attributes Framework, animal wisdom is aligned with one’s instincts. Since the time Bruce the kangaroo visited us, I’ve felt an awakening of this instinctual realm. And recall the many dreams over the years, of animal spirits in my garden who are frequent, vivid, and purposeful.

I know now that these beings are not merely symbols. They are soul companions. Some may be from the past, or some perhaps from the future, arriving to align with me in this moment.

I feel the presence of one companion, especially Ruan, a lion/lioness whose spirit has travelled with me across lifetimes. Ruan is both guardian and kin, an embodiment of courage, sovereignty, and fierce devotion. In other lives, Ruan’s presence protected me like a shield, offering a safety that still echoes through my instincts today. Although not physically present in this lifetime, Ruan’s majestic and loving presence continues to guide me, reminding me how blessed I am to walk among so many expressions of animal wisdom even now.

Shadow Dwellers and the Lore of Balance

With this renewed sensitivity has come a clearer understanding of shadow dwellers—habitual or shadow spirits that accompany the angelic rays. Someone asked at Temple recently, “What is their purpose?” My answer rose instantly: to make us stronger.

The model of light and shadow attributes, along with the process of correction and transformation, was given for exactly this reason. I see it like this, if there is One Divine Unified Presence that creates all things, then shadow is not an accident. It is part of the balance that the cosmos is built upon. Growth requires variance, and consciousness deepens through encountering what challenges us.

A Lesson from the Land of the Dead

This truth echoed again while rewatching the series His Dark Materials. There is a scene in an episode exploring the Land of the Dead where a frightening creature saves Lyra from falling into a deep dust chasm. After flying into the chasm and rescuing her, Lyra gives the harpy called No-name a new name: Gracious Wings. And the harpies now discover the power of story. True stories are nourishing. They feed the harpies in a way that lies and wickedness could not. They agree to allow the dead safe passage out of the Land of the Dead, in exchange for their true stories. “Liars cannot pass!” the newly named Gracious Wings declares. The newly named harpy wants Lyra to get out so that she can tell the story of its new name.

Now here’s the part they left out in the show, the story of No-Name in the books tells Lyra and Will of their kind’s damnation:

“Thousands of years ago, when the first ghosts came down here, the Authority gave us the power to see the worst in everyone, and we have fed on the worst ever since, till our blood is rank with it and our very hearts are sickened. But still, it was all we had to feed on. It was all we had. And now we learn that you are planning to open a way to the upper world and lead all the ghosts out into the air …

What will we do now? I shall tell you what we will do: from now on, we shall hold nothing back. We shall hurt and defile and tear and rend every ghost that comes through, and we shall send them mad with fear and remorse and self-hatred. This is a wasteland now; we shall make it a hell!”

But it was Will, Lyra’s devoted companion and friend, who spoke up – “Harpies,” he said, “we can offer you something better than that. Answer my questions truly, and hear what I say, and then judge. When Lyra spoke to you outside the wall, you flew at her. Why did you do that?”

“Lies!” the harpies all cried. “Lies and fantasies!”

Will, replied, “Yet when she spoke just now, you all listened, every one of you, and you kept silent and still. Again, why was that?”

“Because it was true,” said No-Name. “Because she spoke the truth. Because it was nourishing. Because it was feeding us. Because we couldn’t help it. Because it was true. Because we had no idea that there was anything but wickedness. Because it brought us news of the World, the Sun, the Wind, and the Rain. Because it was true.”

I now understand this passage and why it has stayed with me so deeply. Even the shadow longs to be acknowledged, not because it seeks praise, but because everything that exists wishes to belong in the story of all life. To give life is to include all of it, the light, the shadow, the parts we fear, and the parts that have saved us.

The Little Gold Locket

This understanding also returned to me in the form of a small gold heart locket, one my father gave me for my seventh birthday. My parents had now divorced, my father had struggled to be a good father because of alcohol and substance addiction, and was deeply entangled in his own emotional pain. Years later, burdened by old wounds, I decided to throw the locket into the garden, wanting to bury the memories that felt too heavy to carry.

But the locket found its way back.

While clearing the garden, my partner unearthed the locket unexpectedly and handed it to me. It felt almost conscious, as if it had waited for the moment it knew I would be ready to receive it again.

Now, approaching my 67th year, I finally understand its symbolism. It was never a token of what my father failed to be. It was an offering of what he longed to give. It was a gesture of hope from a man who wished he could have been better, but who still wanted to offer something beautiful to his little daughter.

The locket, like Gracious Wings, whispered:
“Include me in your story. Don’t leave me in the shadows.”

The Story That Makes Us Whole

Today I reclaim the locket as part of my story, not the wounded part, but the part that brought strength, beauty, tenderness, and a deeper sense of divinity into my life. I honour the man who gave it to me, not for perfection, but for the small gesture of his love and his humanness with all its flaws.

This is the lore of life on Earth:
Every presence must be acknowledged for the story to be whole.

The heart knows this.
The animals know it.
The shadows know it.
And the locket knew it too.

Heart to Heart, Elizabeth