how to listen to your heart

Story Scholar

Rejecting the paths of others is all very well, but there’s still an art to feeling out your own path.

It’s a very simple process, and the most successful heroines use it instinctively, all the time.

Take, for example, Jane Eyre:

And now I felt that it was not enough; I tired of the routine of eight years in one afternoon. I desired liberty; for liberty I gasped; for liberty I uttered a prayer; it seemed scattered on the wind then faintly blowing. I abandoned it and framed a humbler supplication; for change, stimulus: that petition, too, seemed swept off into vague space: “Then,” I cried, half desperate, “grant me at least a new servitude!”
…
“What do I want? A new place, in a new house, amongst new faces, under new circumstances: I want this because it is of no use wanting anything better. How do people do to get a new place? They apply to friends, I suppose: I have no friends. There are many others who have no friends, who must look about for themselves and be their own helpers; and what is their resource?”
I could not tell: nothing answered me; I then ordered my brain to find a response, and quickly. It worked and worked faster: I felt the pulses throb in my head and temples; but for nearly an hour it worked in chaos; and no result came of its efforts. Feverish with vain labour, I got up and took a turn in the room; undrew the curtain, noted a star or two, shivered with cold, and again crept to bed.
A kind fairy, in my absence, had surely dropped the required suggestion on my pillow; for as I lay down, it came quietly and naturally to my mind:—“Those who want situations advertise; you must advertise in the ——shire Herald.”
“How? I know nothing about advertising.”
Replies rose smooth and prompt now:—
“You must enclose the advertisement and the money to pay for it under a cover directed to the editor of the Herald; you must put it, the first opportunity you have, into the post at Lowton; answers must be addressed to J.E., at the post-office there; you can go and inquire in about a week after you send your letter, if any are come, and act accordingly.”
This scheme I went over twice, thrice; it was then digested in my mind; I had it in a clear practical form: I felt satisfied, and fell asleep.
With earliest day, I was up: I had my advertisement written, enclosed, and directed before the bell rang to rouse the school…
– Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronté

Jane hears this guidance when she’s contemplating leaving Lowood, which has grown too stifling for her. Notice how, even before she forms her verbal plea for “a new servitude”, she is already feeling out her options: liberty, change, and stimulus all feel too far removed from her present situation; she can only set her sights on the very next step.

However, the wonder of following your heart’s lead is that all your desires are answered. So while Jane does indeed find a position of “new servitude”, as we know (in hindsight) she is also brought to change, stimulus, and in due course, to liberty.

from the 1943 film starring Joan Fontaine and Orson Welles.

THE PROCESS
The essential formula is:

1. Ask for guidance.
2. Listen for the reply.
3. When you feel or hear it, act on it without hesitation or delay.
4. If you’re uncertain of the authenticity or wisdom of the reply, it falls to you to test it. You can:
  1. Do nothing and see how you feel and what transpires; or…
  2. Follow its guidance and see how you feel and what transpires.
5. Repeat.

WHEN TO LISTEN TO YOUR HEART
Listen to your heart any time you stop to think, to mull things over, or to make a decision.

This sort of soul-searching or divine guidance is particularly useful when you need a character to take action, for example in the Trigger, to set the story in motion, or in the Bolt, following a period of calm contemplation.

In the Defeat, the appeal for guidance may be born of a sense of helplessness in the face of circumstances, or it may be an aspect of the character’s discovery of their inner Power.

With practice, the replies come instantly, and unequivocally.

‘Without even having to think about it, she found her fingers moving the hands to point to the helmet, the griffin, and the crucible, and felt her mind settle into the right meanings like a complicated diagram in three dimensions. At once the needle began to swing round, back, round and on further, like a bee dancing its message to the hive. She watched it calmly, content not to know at first but to know that a meaning was coming, and then it began to clear. She let it dance on until it was certain.’
– Northern Lights by Philip Pullman

THE VOICE OF THE REPLY
Sometimes the reply comes as an internal voice, as is the case with Jane Eyre’s ‘kind fairy’ or the familiar voice that calls out her name: ‘“Jane! Jane! Jane!”—nothing more’.

At other times, it may be an external voice, like Lyra’s conversations with her daemon:

‘You’re supposed to know about conscience, aren’t you?’

One of my favourite elaborations of this process comes from Clarissa Pinkola-Estés’ reading of the folktale, ’Vasalisa’, in Women Who Run With the Wolves. Little Vasalisa is given a doll by her dying mother, and told to feed it, and to keep it with her at all times. When her step-mother sends her out to fetch fire from the terrifying Baba Yaga, the doll keeps her safe through its wise counsel:

‘And at every fork in the road, Vasalisa reached into her pocket and consulted the doll. “Well, should I go to the left or should I go to the right?” The doll indicated “Yes,” or “no,” or “This way,” or “That way.” And Vasalisa fed the doll some of her bread as she walked and followed what she felt was emanating from the doll.’

☞ You can read another version of ‘Wassilissa the Beautiful’ here.

Clarissa Pinkola-Estés writes of this tale:

‘There is no greater blessing a mother can give her daughter than a reliable sense of the veracity of her own intuition. Intuition is handed from parent to child in the simplest ways: “You have good judgment. What do you think lies hidden behind all this?” Rather than defining intuition as some unreasoned faulty quirk, it is defined as the soul-voice speaking. Intuition senses the directions to go in for most benefit. It is self-preserving, has a grasp of underlying motive, and intention, and it chooses what will cause the least amount of fragmenting in the psyche.
…
What does one feed intuition so that it is consistently nourished and responsive to our requests to scan our environs? One feeds it life — one feeds it life by listening to it.’
– Women Who Run With the Wolves by Clarissa Pinkola-Estés

THE FEELING THERE’S SOMETHING MORE
More often, the heart’s guidance isn’t presented verbally, but as promptings to take a certain course, however illogical it appears to the rationing mind.

The alethiometer tells Lyra the answer to the strategic questions that Lord Faa poses, but it also tells her more:

“… that’s what the symbol-reader says. But Lord Faa…”
“What, child?”
“It’s a-telling me something else. In the next valley there’s a village by a lake where the folk are troubled by a ghost.”
John Faa shook his head impatiently, and said, “That don’t matter now. There’s bound to be spirits of all kinds among these forests. Tell me again about them Tartars. How many, for instance? What are they armed with?”

When you ask for guidance from your heart, you may be limited by the scope of your questions, or, like Jane Eyre, by your beliefs regarding what’s possible.

John Faa, for all his age and expertise, dismisses any information that doesn’t directly pertain to his Quest. He doesn’t have the perspective to know that Lyra’s side-quest to the haunted village will furnish them with the most vital answers they need, regarding the nature of the Gobblers’ awful experiments.

EXPERIENCE & ACTION
It takes a dedicated attentiveness to hear the heart’s addenda.

And possibly one or two instances of facing the dramatic consequences of ignoring its gentle nudges, to really solidify the lesson.

‘And I wouldn’t ask, except it’s like what I did before, Farder Coram, you remember, with that chameleon? I didn’t understand it then, but it was true, and we found out soon after. I got the same feeling now. I can’t understand properly what it’s saying, only I know it’s important.’

Lyra’s previous experience with the fatal repercussions of failing to heed the alethiometer makes her determined not to repeat the same mistake. Like Jane Eyre, she doesn’t lose a moment to act, and with her characteristic silver tongue and quick thinking, she convinces a whole host of adults (and an armoured polar bear) to give way to her.