I was questioning whether the harmony zone idea is crap. I hadn’t experienced it for a while because I’d become too focused on the heart monitor, tinkering with various training recommendations I’d read in books, and I’d forgotten to listen to my body’s intuitive signals.
Today I came back to the right kind of running.
The physical indicators of the harmony zone – heart rate, breathing, etc. – are for the warmup. Watching breath and heart rate helps me get the body purring along nicely, but at some point it’s necessary to transfer attention to the body’s inner messages – the messages the body sends through inner feeling.
I thought: “If the harmony zone is real, I should be able to find it again if I work carefully through the steps.
I thought, “Yes, let’s give it a try. I’ll be scientific, and if it works, fine, but if not, equally fine – at least I’ll know.”
I kept strict pace discipline during the warmup, holding my pace at 65-70%. I kept an attitude of “listening,” keeping the line open to hear what a higher guidance might suggest.
I was feeling a bit discouraged – gosh, I’d spent years tinkering with the heart, and I’d nearly completed a book based on the harmony zone – and here I was, feeling shaky about whether I could find my way back into the heart.
As I shuffled along, I watched my heart carefully, and after 40 minutes I accelerated tentatively and checked the feeling in my heart. But it immediately felt uncomfortable and inharmonious – it was a subtle discomfort that I’d have missed if I’d been focused on the monitor. Years ago, I would have “run through” those feelings, especially if my schedule called for speedwork. But I seldom “run through the pain” anymore.
I sensed that my body wanted to run slowly. Mary Ellen had surgery recently, and it’s been an emotional strain.
I backed off and remained in that slow harmony zone, and soon I was enjoying it very much. It was lovely – it was a sweet feeling of complete, all-through rightness and well-being. It wasn’t a deep inner experience, but it created an atmosphere where spiritual awareness seemed natural.
I was reminded of the HeartMath study where people who cultivated harmonious feelings reported having more frequent feelings of being “in touch with spirit.” With a heart that was happy, calm and inwardly free, I found it easier to talk to God and feel that He was close.
Earlier, I remarked that it was the “right kind” of running. Here are some things I did right:
I prayed at the start to please God, and I stayed alert to hear His guidance, speaking through the calm feelings of my heart.
I kept strict pace discipline, during the warmup and throughout the run.
I watched my heart like a hawk – I didn’t let my awareness wander, but I did it in a relaxed way.
I expressed my feelings naturally and frankly, and didn’t fake them.
Probably the “rightest” thing I did was that I stopped “knowing what God wants.” In the past, I’ve had a tendency to demand more of myself than God actually is asking. There’s been a feeling that until I could get pure and holy by my own power, God wouldn’t accept me.
I carried that thought for years – that God wouldn’t “like” me, wouldn’t come, wouldn’t bless me, until I could control my own mind and sweeten my heart.
Today I did it differently. I thought, “That’s presumptuous! – it’s pretending I know better than God. It’s assuming I know how perfect I need to be. Maybe He doesn’t care if I’m ‘perfect’ all the time, or at all. Maybe He’ll come to me as I am, if I do my part and turn to him in a spirit of childlike trust and love. If I’m less than perfect, God is still my father, mother, and closest friend. If I’m less than perfect, He will show me the way to improve.”
Running in simplicity, casting away worries about not meeting God’s expectations, I prayed, then did a harmony zone warmup, and watched my heart calmly.
I did the physical things that go along with the harmony zone: I put my attention at the spiritual eye and in the heart. But I did it with relaxation, almost playfully. I was content at every moment to do what I could, but without forcing, pushing, worrying, or pretending. I didn’t run to prove that I’m a child of God, I ran as a child of God.
I felt, I am God’s child. And what does that mean? Only that I need for Him to teach me. And the way to be a good child is to turn to Him inwardly, trustingly, not hiding my imperfections but doing the best I can.
Years ago, I remarked to a friend, “I think I’m beginning to understand that God doesn’t actually mind our faults.” My friend, a woman of deep spiritual insight, unhesitatingly replied, “I don’t think God even notices our faults!”
On the spiritual path, it takes two things: admitting our imperfections, feeling the pain of how they distance us from God’s love, wisdom, and joy, and asking for help. And then it takes following – when God shows us the next, manageable step to greater happiness, doing our part by taking that step.
