A friend recently gave me an article containing an interview with Andrew Harvey, the co-author of The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying. One passage leapt off the page for me.
“I don’t say follow your bliss,” Harvey says. “Look where that has gotten us. I say follow your heartbreak.”
Perhaps Harvey’s statement resonated so profoundly because lately there has been much heartache in my life.
I was in Virginia during the time of the murders at Virginia Tech and word reached me there that Jamie Bishop, the son of my friend the sci-fi writer Michael Bishop and his wife Jeri, had been killed at the school. My heart breaks for Mike and Jeri - and for all those affected by the horrific event - with a sorrow that is marrow deep.
And on Monday, during the long drive back to Cape Cod , three more pieces of sad news reached me.
A friend of Hillary’s had been in a bad accident and his foot had to be amputated. My sister-in-law received her test results and starts chemotherapy this week. My sister is getting a divorce.
And always - always - there is the every present backdrop of the daily death count from Iraq.
How to we nurture and sanctify life in the face of tragedies like the Virginia Tech shootings? How to we hold on to hope in the face of personal loss, of disease and destruction, global warming, ecological devastation and war?
Harvey, a religious scholar, says heartbreak can strike us “like a sword of light through the heart.” He suggests that it is the passion behind our heartbreak that will compel us to work for change. He calls for “sacred activism,” a policy of respect and compassion for ourselves and our planet.
My heart is breaking. Now I ask myself, What will I do with the heartbreak?