I started out breech, so maybe it’s no surprise that I rarely lead with my head.  Oh, it will step in to do the usual, like balancing a bank account, or formatting my computer, but on a daily basis, my heart is making most of the decisions — like how much sugar to add (that’s from my grandma’s heart corner); or how much trust to offer (that’s from my mother’s). 

Maybe it’s because the lines of communication run clear, but my hands and feet have no trouble following. If the heart says go, they are more than willing to participate. I guess they know from experience that they won’t be judged by this leader — unlike the brain, that will question their every move. No, the heart is forgiving. Compassionate. So I listen. 

That’s not to say you won’t get hurt along the way, oh, how that heart can feel. But that’s also the best thing about it — OH, how that heart can feel!  

So I continue the way I started, ever believing my feet will take me where my heart needs to go.