Heidi Washburn

This guest post from Heidi Washburn explores the call to respond to the inner voice over time as a path to the deepest of wholehearted journeys.

This is the 14th guest post in our Wholehearted Stories series on Quiet Writing! I invited readers to consider submitting a guest post on their wholehearted story. You can read more here – and I’m still keen for more contributors! 

Quiet Writing celebrates self-leadership in wholehearted living and writing, career and creativity. This community of voices, each of us telling our own story of what wholehearted living means, is a valuable and central part of this space. In this way, we can all feel connected on our various journeys and not feel so alone. Whilst there will always be unique differences, there are commonalities that we can all learn from and share to support each other.

I am honoured to have my friend Heidi Washburn as a ‘Wholehearted Stories’ contributor. Heidi and I met in Hoi An, Vietnam at Kerstin Pilz’s writing and yoga retreat in September, 2018 and enjoyed a time of deep connection during that week. I invited Heidi to tell her wholehearted story here. Heidi reflects on a moment of career shift in her life when everything changed. She shares how the inner voice often calls again and again and listening to it is a practice that evolves through our lives. Read Heidi’s reflections on her journey of responding to calls from her inner voice in deeper ways, a journey that continues!

Sometimes life changes suddenly: discovering a secret, a hurricane, a birth or a death.  Sometimes the change is more subtle, more gradual and instigated by internal signals.  Those signals may manifest differently for each of us.  The question is when and how do we listen? How do we respond?  What challenges do we face once we admit a change is coming? What happens if we ignore the call?

Many times in my life I have pushed past my inner knowing, trying to fit into the accepted norm, frustrated that the norm didn’t feel right or I couldn’t seem to do it right.  As hard as I tried I could not happily push past my instincts and join the crowd.  It is only when I listen and respond that the whole of me is present and engaged.  It is it something that I cannot always do on my own.  This ride in wholehearted living requires a lot of support, a lot of losing and regaining momentum.

My life is an evolving ever-changing journey.  This is about my major career shift in my mid-forties followed by recent reflections on a lifetime of learning to listen, respond and deepen.

Setting the scene

Let’s get some perspective.  In the 80’s there was minimal internet. There were no smartphones, no blogs, no easily available GPS, no online support groups and we were just out of an era when corporations took care of their employees, often for life.  Leaving a successful, lucrative career was an unusual move generating a lot of opinions and, dare I say, envy.

Let’s set the scene for the moment everything changed.  One rainy fall night, I was driving home to Saugerties, New York from a late meeting in New Jersey, a good two and a half hours’ drive.  Visibility was sparse and I had to strain to find my way out of the corporate complex in the dark, while squinting at the map on my lap.  My eyes were heavy, it was a long day and I just wanted to get home.

I was ten years into my market research consulting business, I had back-up staff and my work was in demand.  Hard work, constant traveling and late nights had paid off.  Yet something was not right.  I was losing touch with my family and friends because I was always out of town.  The only love life I could fit in was an on-demand friend with benefits.  I was having dizzy spells and anxiety attacks.  My teenage daughter was home alone too many nights and I wasn’t on top of her struggles in life.  My friends were making noises about an intervention for my “workaholic” problem.

What problem?  I loved doing in-depth interviews, consolidating them into a meaningful story for my clients and giving advice in the boardroom.  I found a way to be listened to in my profession if not in my personal life.  My introverted self found a way to be out front as long as I had a role to play.  The operative word here is ‘role’.  More and more, it felt like a role that was not me.  I was trying to stay in a shell that no longer fit or serviced me. At the same time, something deeper was emerging, but I was flying too high to notice.

The voice and the moment everything changed

Back to the rainy fall night.  As I said, I just wanted to get home to my bed.  As I pulled onto the familiar Garden State Parkway, the rain let up and I relaxed.  Before I could turn on the radio for entertainment a voice in my head came on instead.  A quiet, gentle but firm voice, not just a thought.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.”

What?

“I said! I don’t want to do this anymore.”

What do you mean?  You have to.  You just got the business where you want it.  You have staff, an office and now you can do the more creative work.  Isn’t that what you wanted?

That was the end of the conversation.  Or so I thought.

After that night, after that very moment, everything changed but so quietly and slowly I hardly noticed.  Of course, I was the one making the decisions.  However, I didn’t know where I was going or what the path was.  Deep change doesn’t come with a check-list or a schedule. And there is no guarantee that things will work out for the best.

 

Shifting to deeper awareness and action

First, I became aware that I pushed through the day without eating even though I constantly yearned for food.  Why wasn’t I feeding myself?  I went to a nutritionist weekly for three months to get better eating habits and basically learn to nurture myself.

I began bringing more and more things from my New York City apartment and office to my ‘weekend’ house in Saugerties.  By the time I set up an office in the Saugerties basement, my NYC assistant asked: “Are you ever coming back?”  And she got another job.  She knew what was coming before I did.

I submerged myself in therapy and enrolled in singing lessons to open up my voice.

I wanted a more meaningful life and figured I should be able to find it in a couple of months.  I was used to getting things under control.

Getting to know that inner voice

I had skills I enjoyed and that contributed to my success: creating a safe space for people to express themselves, drawing people out, deep listening, analyzing overall trends, presenting my ideas and writing.  Maybe I would be a psychotherapist?  I applied to two graduate schools in California, but before I heard from them my inner knowing led me another way.  I started training in wholistic counseling, yoga and healthy lifestyle.  I spent months at Kripalu, a yoga and meditation center.  In between I still took on consulting projects to sustain my searching.

The inner voice grew stronger the more space and time I gave it.  After chanting three days straight during a Kripalu one-month retreat, I sent out a prayer from a song by Linda Wooster: “Take these hands and turn them into light beams.”  I still didn’t realize quite where I was going and how meaningful that prayer would be.

Finding my path as a somatic practitioner

I am a kinesthetic person.  Formal psychology is too mental and structured for me.  So, I went to massage school.  Out of massage school I searched for a mind-body approach that worked for me.  I was still taking occasional consulting jobs.

The months of transition turned into two years, reading, searching, training, experimenting, meditating, getting help from therapists, poking the fire for hours.

One day a massage therapist touched my head and moved my neck ever so slightly just for a couple of minutes. My whole body deeply let go.  I felt safe, heard and known through her touch.

“What was that?!”  I murmured through my bliss.

She told me it was Craniosacral Therapy.  I wanted to do that work.  I just knew it.

From there I began training in Craniosacral Therapy, a way to work with mind-body-emotions-spirit.  I found my home but not yet a career.  It took a couple of years before I had the confidence to practice.  And to totally leave my business.

Meanwhile, I needed to live a simpler life and reduce expenses.  I was happier, but much less affluent.

Clearing the way to live fully

On a sunny day in August, my beautiful Saugerties house was sold and I was moving one town over to a small two-bedroom rental in Woodstock, taking my cat and my new life with me.  My old house was ready for its new owners, except for the bright red landline kitchen phone.  Just as I was about to walk out the open front door for the last time, final items under my arm, the phone’s shrill ring echoed throughout the empty house.  Even the answering service was disconnected, so I rushed back to answer it.  An advertising company was calling me to see if I was available for a market research consulting job.

This will be a short call!  Standing straight and with a clear voice I gave the answer for the first and last time.

“I don’t do that anymore.”  That was it.  I felt exhilarated.

I have been asked if I have ever regret leaving my consulting career.  It was a good run and mostly I loved it.  But I was learning that my sensitive system needed a gentler, more spacious environment.  So, did I regret it? Not for a nanosecond.  I have been asked, did I ever worry about making a living?  Things get tight now and then and I do worry about a future when I can no longer work.  The lifestyle I have chosen is short on long-term security.  My practice goes up and down. I would like to create some kind of community living as I age, but as an introvert am not too skilled at groups.  So, the future is uncertain. Yet, I would never change my decision. I chose to live fully instead of setting myself up for a less-than-wholehearted fate.

Reflections and new perspectives

I don’t really know what brings up that mysterious inner voice sending me one direction or another.  Some people might call it guidance.  All I know is  that it is powerful when I listen.  A year ago, I just knew I had to go to Vietnam, thinking it was about the war that impacted my generation and my life when my young husband went to fight.  One step led to another and on a hot September day I arrived in Hoi An for Kerstin Pilz’s Write Your Journey Writing Retreat.  At 75, I have reclaimed myself as a writer and reclaimed the story I need to tell.  And another adventure begins.

My first draft of this piece included mention of my accountant for my consulting business. Stan would show up at my office and stare out the window as if he wanted to vaporize and pass though it.

“Oh,” he murmured, “how I would like to be a painter, but I have to work.”

Then, less than two years into our business relationship and in his mid-thirties, he had a heart attack and died.  In my draft, I used this story to show how dangerous it is not to follow your heart, your dreams.  But, I was being lofty, arrogant, and disrespectful to my accountant.  It implied that we have control over our destiny if we just listen.

Meeting the unexpected with deeper insights

I put aside the first draft, let it sit for a while to see if it was really what I wanted to say.  I thought a lot about listening to that inner voice.  Asked friends how they knew when something is “right.”  One looks for a sense of deepening and clarity, another a feeling in her gut and still another uses a pendulum.  I learned that each person has their own unique way of listening. I thought I had the answer to controlling destiny.  Tune into what is right for you and all will be revealed.

Then, I had a heart attack.  It was mild as heart attacks go. It has a name: Takotsubo, also called Broken Heart Syndrome.  Given my low blood pressure, lack of any artery blockage, perfect cholesterol, and lean body, the only explanation is stress.  I meditate, eat a healthy diet, process emotions and enjoy my career as a craniosacral therapist.  This shouldn’t happen to me.  But it did.

My point is, who knows why my accountant had his heart attack.  Or, maybe I didn’t have mine until I was 75 instead of 45 because at 45 I followed the calling to change my life. I am inspired to once again look deeply. How do I want to spend the remaining years? The inquiry is the path to aliveness. These days I am more and more excited about each day as I heal my broken heart.

What I have learned

I have learned:

• that we can affect our quality of life in a big way, but not control it.
• to embrace the precious qualities of being an empath and an introvert with creative talents and deep wisdom to share.
• to step up my self-care, boundary setting and need for spaciousness to be present for the wonders and tragedies life throws my way.
• to rest before I am exhausted.
• to trust and be grateful for the amazing support system that comes to my aid when I am in trouble.
• that I love to share through teaching and writing.
• the sound of my inner voice when it calls.

And I am still learning.

Resources that have supported me

These are some resources that have supported me:

Hakomi: a Buddhist-centred wholistic counselling method

Psychosynthesis: a wholistic counselling method

Mindfulness/Insight meditation: Dharma.org has talks available for free

Upledger Institute: listings of craniosacral therapy practitioners around the world

Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy

Write Your Journey, Kerstin Pilz: upcoming meditation, yoga, writing retreat in Hoi An, Vietnam September 2019

Kripalu Center for Yoga and Health

The Empath’s Survival Guide, Judith Orloff

About Heidi Washburn

Heidi Washburn is a craniosacral and massage therapist, writer, practitioner of gentle yoga and insight meditation, friend, sister, aunt, great aunt, mother and cat lover. She specializes in working with other empaths and INFPs who do best in
a spacious, safe, gentle and mindful environment. Heidi has been practicing
bodywork for over 25 years with advanced clinical training and certification in Hakomi, Psychosynthesis, Upledger Craniosacral Therapy and Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy. More recently, Heidi has joyously immersed herself in the sacred art of writing. She is working on a memoir about secrets and how the truth liberates the unexpected. You can connect with Heidi via her website or email at washburn.heidi@gmail.com

Photograph attribution as follows and used with permission and thanks:

• Images 1, 2, 3, 9 – Terri Connellan
• Images 4, 5, 7 – Heidi Washburn
• Image 6 – Pexels.com 
• Image 8 – Nigel Rowles
• Bio portrait: Amber Roniger Photography

Read more Wholehearted Stories

If you enjoyed this wholehearted story, please share it with others to inspire their journey. You might enjoy these stories too:

Maps to Self: my wholehearted story

The Journey to Write Here – my wholehearted story

Ancestral Patterns, Tarot Numerology and breaking through – my wholehearted story

Message from the middle – my wholehearted story

The journey of a lifetime – a wholehearted story

Gathering my lessons – a wholehearted story

Grief and pain can be our most important teachers – a wholehearted story

Breakdown to breakthrough – my wholehearted life

Embracing a creative life – a wholehearted story

Becoming who I really am – a wholehearted story

Finding my home – a wholehearted story

My wild soul is calling – a wholehearted story

Our heart always knows the way – a wholehearted story

How knowing your authentic heart can make you shine

Keep in touch + free ebook ’36 Books that Shaped my Story’

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