When I Left My Heart (and Found My Way Back)

Last Thursday morning, I asked my partner if he’d like to walk the Lafayette Reservoir with me.
He said he’d love to.

I love walking there early. The birds swoop through the willows.
Morning light shimmers on the water.
Hawks call out their presence across the open sky.

But as we walked, I could tell my partner was in a low mood.

Soon, I began to regret inviting him.
Every time I said something, he shot back a snarky comment.
My agitation rose. I started blaming him for ruining the peace I’d wanted.

And then I caught it.

I had left my heart.
I’d gone up into my head, trying to volley with his mood.

Halfway through the 2.7-mile loop, I dropped behind him, put in my earbuds, and played Michael Jackson’s Love Never Felt So Good.
🎵 Love Never Felt So Good

I returned to my heart.
Not by fixing him. Not by blaming myself.
Just by noticing and choosing again.

After a few moments, I took out my headphones.
The sunlight danced across the water. I invited my partner to look.

He paused. He looked.
Then he shared a way of seeing the light, like fractals in space.

He had returned to his heart, too.

This is why I do what I do.
Not to fix moods or manage emotions—but to help people return to the deep presence underneath it all.
The heart always knows the way.