There are moments on the path where the heart feels still – not because it is numb, but because it is free. Empty not in pain, but in peace. And in that emptiness … there is light. A quiet joy. A fullness that needs nothing. This is the fullness of an empty heart – the paradox at the core of awakening. It is not a heart that is missing something, but a heart that remembers its wholeness.
Recently, a dear student and beautiful friend, Gosia, gifted me a ticket to a Deva Premal & Miten concert (in Toronto). It was such a sweet surprise to bump into familiar faces, and to be in that shared space of sound and stillness. We sang, chanted, and swayed together – a sea of hearts remembering.
As we sang the Gayatri Mantra – a mantra I first learned 18 years ago at the start of my yoga teaching journey – I found myself reflecting on how my journey has changed. During the concert, I watched the smoke rising, perfectly dancing in the light. Miten also sang his song, “Empty Heart,” and it deeply resonated of where I am now – resting in the fullness of an empty heart.
For so long, my path had been about seeking something more: more profound experiences, deeper awakenings, grander moments of transcendence. Whether through long hours of meditation, intense yoga practices, powerful teacher trainings, seeking the next best teacher, or even plant medicine journeys, I was chasing something beyond – the next opening, the next realization.
Perhaps I needed all of those extreme spiritual experiences to arrive to what I now recognize: The quiet beauty of simply being. The sacredness in stability, in consistency, in presence. The way the light moves through ‘ordinary’ life when we stop grasping for the ‘extraordinary’.
This is a celebration of life; this is a remembrance and worshipping of Shakti.
What I’ve come to recognize is the emptiness within – not the emptiness of yearning, but the emptiness of enough and the beauty already here. A space that holds everything and demands nothing. A heart that is still and spacious, and yet, so full of light. This is the fullness of an empty heart.
The World Teaches Us to Fill - But Spirit Teaches Us to Empty
We are conditioned to fill our lives and hearts – with doing, achieving, fixing, competing. Even our spiritual path can become just another way of trying to prove, accumulate, or perfect.
But true spiritual practice – the deeper path of Tantra, Yoga, mysticism – teaches us how to empty. To empty ourselves of clinging. To loosen the grip of identity, expectation, even longing.
This kind of emptiness is not collapse – it is expanse. Not detachment – but intimacy with the real.
In this space, the heart is:
- Not lonely, but open
- Not passive, but spacious
- Not lacking, but luminous
When we empty the heart of grasping, we find it’s always been full – of light, of presence, of the sacred. This is the fullness of an empty heart.
The Tantric Heart - Luminous Emptiness
In Śrī Vidyā Tantra, the spiritual heart – hṛdaya – is not merely a metaphor for emotion; it is the abode of the Supreme Goddess. It is the innermost center, where all distinctions dissolve into luminous unity. This heart is not wounded, nor lacking – it is vast, silent, and whole.
Here, śūnyatā (or shunyata) – often translated as “emptiness” – is not a cold void, but the womb of all creation: a field of pure potential, radiant stillness, and infinite love.
It has always been there, beneath the layers of seeking, behind the mantras, beneath the breath.
In the empty heart, there is no need for repair – only recognition. And in that recognition, we come home to the deepest truth: we were never separate from the Divine. We are That.
Living from the Fullness of an Empty Heart
So what does life look like from this heart?
- Loving – not because we need to, but because love flows freely
- Acting – without the weight of attachment
- Resting – not to escape, but to return
- Feeling – without becoming what we feel
- Allowing – others to be fully themselves, and ourselves to be too
We can touch this space during meditation, through the rhythm of our steady breath, in restorative yoga, and especially in Yoga Nidra, and also in the simplest of moments: sipping tea on the porch, watching sunlight through leaves, hearing a student’s breath soften in savasana. In those moments, nothing is missing. Everything is full. That is the fullness of an empty heart.
We Awaken to Sacred Remembrance (which is why this is my tagline).
A Blessing for the Empty Heart
May your heart be so still it shines.
So empty it overflows.
So free it forgets how to chase and remembers how to be.
Let it be your sanctuary.
Let it be your temple.
Let it be the place where all your seeking ends,
and sacred presence begins.
