Our Beating and Connected Hearts
Table Talk
Setting the Table
You are welcome here. Come just as you are, bringing whatever is on your heart today. Take a few moments and allow yourself just to be. Go outside, if possible, and take a couple of deep breaths. Allow yourself to be present in this moment.
Take a moment to feel the beat of your heart. Imagine it beating in tandem with all the living things around you. How does this connection change the way you feel about the world and your place in it?
“The goal of life is to make your heartbeat match the beat of the universe, to match your nature with Nature.”
- Joseph Campbell
“If you keep a green bough in your heart, the singing bird will come.”
- Chinese proverb
Genesis 1:25
God made the animals of the earth according to their kind, and the livestock according to their kind, and everything that crawls on the ground according to its kind; and God saw that it was good.
Food for Thought
I have a very slow resting heartbeat. During exercise, I can reach 120 or more beats per minute, but otherwise it hovers below 50.
Doctors aren’t worried and neither am I. “Better slow than fast!” is the general attitude, and I say as long as it’s still pumping, I’m fine with slow!
During recent surgery for a knee issue, the anesthesiologist said, jokingly, “If it’s true that we only have a limited number of heartbeats, then you’ll live to be very old!”
That could be good news for me, and to some extent, science bears it out: the blue whale, whose heart beats only 8 times a minute, has an average lifespan of 80-90 years. The little hummingbird, nature’s most nervous bird, has a heart rate of 1200 times per minute. Most die in their first year of life, but if they make it through that first year, their life expectancy goes up to as many as 5 years.
For most of us, more determines how long we’ll live than how many times our hearts beat. Genetics, lifestyle, environment, economic status, race — all those and more play an important role.
While recovering from that knee surgery, I’ve spent a lot of time this summer watching birds, including the little hummer who visits my window daily. He zips to the feeder from out of nowhere, hovers there awhile — and sometimes sits — sticks his very long beak into the tiny hole and has one of the thousand meals he’ll have every day.
In addition to the hummers, at my feeders are finches and nuthatches, chickadees and juncos, thrashers and catbirds, and cardinals and titmice — all with heartbeats much faster than my own.
Earlier this summer, I sat on my deck daily and listened to the soothing sounds of the neighborhood owls. They’d begin their “who-who-who-cooks-for-you” as the sun began to drop in the western sky. A much calmer bird, an owl’s heart beats an average of 325 times per minute, and they typically live 12-20 years, mating for life. They tend not to migrate but stay in the same place as long as that place provides a safe shelter.
Sometimes, while walking, I would see one, sitting in my neighbor’s pecan tree or once in my very own maple. The last time I saw them they were side by side on the same branch, in clear view, so close I could have taken a picture. I wish I had.
But as majestic as they are, even their lives can cease unexpectedly. One July morning, a neighbor found both owls, side by side, their spectacular bodies lifeless in the grass, their hearts stopped, those deep, omnipotent eyes closed.
We don’t know what happened. The experts believe they were electrocuted while perched on a wire during one of our summer storms. All we know for certain is that the woods are silent of their bold call.
Like the hummingbirds, like the owls, we are all fragile creatures, every minute on the verge of death, or life.
Somewhere in our hearts is the capacity to love one another and the world around us. We long for that, we need it, like the hummingbird needs nourishment, like the owls need each other.
Whether slow or fast, we share the same heartbeat with all God’s creatures, all the birds in the sky, all the beasts in the fields. No matter the geography, the economy, no matter the race or ethnicity or gender identity. No matter if our arms have feathers or fur, our heartbeats are God’s gift that connects us, that gives us life. Some beat slowly, some beat fast, but it is in the beating itself that we can find one another.
These days in my back yard, I long for the song of the owl, but it’s gone silent. At the feeder, grackles beak-fight over who goes first, spilling seeds everywhere, squawking. In the house of my own heart, I reach for my husband’s hand, I call my little grandson just to hear his voice, I text my friend to see how she’s doing. I miss all those whose hearts have stilled. I pay attention to my slow beats. I want to make each one count.
Go to the woods or a field if you have one nearby, turn off your phone, close your eyes, and listen to the sounds of the birds, crickets, and other animals. Hear the wind as it blows through the trees. Let yourself be one with it all.
Listen out for other steady heartbeats in the world – the sound of footsteps, a rocking cradle, a swing moving back and forth, the chug-chug of a train as it passes nearby. Note that your own heart is connected to the heartbeat of the world you live in.
For a printable version of today's reflection Click Here!
Blessing
Creator God,
Thank you for the blessing of birdsong, for the wind in the trees and the air that waves the grasses. Help us to honor our shared heartbeats, teach us to be loving caretakers of this bountiful world, and remind us daily that life is sacred and love connects us all.
A little Table Talk for your table...
Talk together about what you can learn from watching the birds. The animals. Are they greedy? Helpful? What do you see that mimics how we might behave in our own communities?
Heartbeats are one way we experience connection with the world around us. What are some other ways you have experienced or seen connection? Make a list together.
How can we be more intentional about the way we love and honor all living things around us? And how can that translate into how we can more intentionally love and honor all people?
Try taking it to the Kids Table...
If you don’t already have one, hang a bird feeder outside where you can see it from inside (so you won’t scare the birds). Spend some time with your kiddo noticing who comes to your feeder. What are the colors? What are the sizes? Learn to call them by their names using a bird book or an app like Merlin (With Merlin you can also identify bird calls).
Make a list of the things you see and observe. Make a note when you see a new bird for the first time.
Talk together about what you can learn from watching the birds. The animals. Are they greedy? Helpful? What else do you notice about them?
Meet Our Welcoming Voice!
Barbara Presnell is a writer and teacher of writing who lives in Lexington, NC. Her five books of poetry include Piece Work, which documents the textile industry in North Carolina through the eyes of its workers, and Blue Star, the story of 100 years of war and its effect on one family. In addition, her essays and columns appear in many journals and online sites. She has taught writing to students in community colleges, private schools, and public universities in Virginia, Kentucky, and North Carolina, and is Senior Lecturer Emeritus at UNC-Charlotte. Read more of her poetry and prose at www.barbarapresnell.com.
To hear more from Barbara throughout the week, follow along on our Instagram!
Here are Five Things to Remember When Setting Your Own Welcome Table!