The Alchemy of Heart-Centered Communication
Most people struggle to be present while they give a talk. Letting go of premeditated monologues and speaking from the heart can inspire others, build connections, and radically shift outcomes.
If you’ve ever been part of a sharing circle, I’ll venture to guess that you’re quite familiar with the following scenario: You’re sitting quietly in an intimate group of people and someone in the circle is speaking from the heart, sharing something emotional and vulnerable. You want to listen—you truly intend to listen—but the pull to craft your own story is just too strong to resist. You’re acutely aware that your turn is coming up and you just can’t stop rehearsing what you’re going to say when the talking stick lands on your lap.
I am mildly embarrassed to admit that I recently found myself doing exactly this at a transformational weekend retreat attended by around 30 men and women. Sitting there in the circle on the final day of the retreat, the realization dawned that I would be the last to speak. We’d just spent several beautiful days together as a group, and each person had the floor for three minutes to talk about their experience. I felt the feeling of fear in my belly, knowing that my turn was inevitably approaching. I felt that old familiar pull to start crafting my story.
What could I say about my experience that might ‘play well’ with the group? Something profound, with a sprinkle of gratitude and perhaps a tear in my eye. Oh shit, five people in a row did just that. OK, scrap that and rewrite my speech immediately to sound more original. Panic, definitely panic! Man, why can’t I just speak like that person who happens to perform for a living?
I definitely wasn’t present and I definitely wasn’t listening to anyone else. Then I remembered what I had learned in the most powerful moments of the retreat. I discovered the courage to be fully present and to stop trying to manipulate and control my life. I could trust the way that things would naturally unfold when I was able to just be in the moment. And I learned to trust that I could say what was in my heart, and that on some level it would be received by others. What needed to be said would be said, and what needed to be heard would be heard. I learned to pause, take a deep breath, check in with my body and my heart, and then lead with the wisdom that was there.
For me, as a Type 3 on the Enneagram, it was a radical act of strength to stay fully present and not prepare my remarks as the circle progressed. To let go of my need to impress, to win approval, to be seen as smart or likable or interesting or unique. I chose to surrender to whatever wanted to come forth from my heart, however rough or unpolished it might be. To take the big leap of faith that something real and valuable might emerge if I authentically shared what was true for me at the moment. To risk being rejected or misunderstood in order to speak authentically, without filters or self-censorship.
Later that week, I found myself with an opportunity to put this newfound wisdom into action as I prepared for a difficult conversation with a friend about an incident that I experienced as a boundary violation. What do I say? How do I say it without being a dick? Will he hate me if I speak my truth? What is my truth? Rumination, rumination, rumination, followed by a night of poor sleep filled with more rumination.
I then remembered: Pause, take a deep breath, check in with my heart, and trust what is real for me in the moment. In this case, what I noticed in my heart was anger. I was angry for not being respected. I was angry for not being honored. As I sat with those feelings, a sudden insight emerged—I sensed very clearly that my friend’s actions were the result of a private struggle that he wasn’t getting support on. I immediately softened, wondering if he needed help and if he’d ever worked with a therapist. Was he interested? Did he see the value in it? My anger shifted into a genuine desire to support my friend.
When I picked up the phone and made the call, I was able to be direct and honest about my feelings, but with compassion. I didn’t downplay the situation. I spoke from the heart, sharing how angry I felt and how his actions impacted me. He fully received what I was sharing and broke into tears. He was touched that I would take this kind of stand for him. He admitted that he was having a hard time and was grateful that someone finally saw that and reached out to offer him support. I referred him to my therapist and he immediately booked a session.
I was proud that I checked in with my heart and took a courageous leap to bring the conflict to completion. If I’d spoken from some premeditated, point-by-point list of accusations, there’s no chance that I would have ended up feeling complete or that he would have felt supported.
Now back to the sharing circle. I resisted the urge to script my talk and took a leap to speak openly and spontaneously from the heart. To my surprise, my share got quite emotional. It wasn’t perfect by any means. I choked up. I cried. I stumbled over some words. I had to take several pauses. But my words had depth. There was a certain meaning and resonance. It touched many people in the circle on a deep level. I’ve never received that kind of reaction after sharing with a group—it was a radical moment for me. People came up to me afterward and expressed how moved they were by what I said. I felt deeply seen and connected to the rest of the group. My heart felt clean and clear. It was like magic.
I’ve come to believe that all authentic and impactful communication is about the simple act of pausing, anchoring yourself in the present moment, and descending from the chattering mind into the aliveness of the heart—and then letting the words emerge from that place. This journey of descent opens up new possibilities. In many ancient cultures, the heart, not the mind, is viewed as the seat of awareness. When we center ourselves in our hearts before speaking, we open up the possibility for a deeper transmission to come through. That transmission has far more power to move people and influence outcomes than any string of words we plot out in our minds. When we speak from the heart, our words have shifted from 2D to 3D, from black-and-white to color, that’s the true alchemy of heart-centered communication.
When we’re stuck in our heads—overthinking, plotting out an elaborate argument, strategizing how to win over others—we are not meeting the present moment with the wisdom and depth of our true experience. We end up communicating in a way that lacks authenticity, depth, and emotional resonance. Our words are far less likely to foster true connection or impact. Simply put, they just don’t “land” in the same way.
This isn’t just about the way we communicate, it’s really about the way we choose to live. I’ve come to believe that life is way more exciting when we can just let it rip, so to speak. When we surrender control and radically ride the wave of the present moment, there’s room for magic to happen. Instead of just traveling from point A to point B, life takes us to a point Z that is beyond what we could have imagined for ourselves. When we have no idea how things are going to go (and no idea what we’re even going to say next), that’s when things start to get interesting. Real interesting. Dare I say magical! But when we try to plan everything and control the future, we are stuck within the confines of what we can plot out and strategize with our minds. That would be like you being the DJ of every bar, store, restaurant, and coffee shop you ever entered. There would be no room for being surprised or delighted by someone else playing something new.
Of course, there are times when preparation with your mind is important. A sales pitch. Speaking to your contractor. A board meeting. A court case. You get the point. But far too often, we over-prepare when we would be best served to connect with our hearts and speak in the moment with truth and vulnerability.
Trust that your heart has all that’s needed in these crucial moments. Trust that if you have the courage to ride the wave of the present moment, you can ride it all the way to shore. Whatever arises is enough, it is worthy, it is spectacular and it is beautiful because it’s what is real for you. It’s your heart, on full display. Shared with care. Shared with courage. Shared with the knowledge that if you can go there, it may inspire others to go there, too. To make contact with another's heart in a way that fosters love and connection on a deep level. And yes, maybe even create a little bit of magic in the process.
"Ride the wave of the present moment". Damn, I love that. This post really touched me. Thanks for continuing to share so vulnerably... it's cool that you're making art that is doing what it says. Love you.
Thanks, Matt. Your share resonated strongly with me, great nudge and reminder to leave the story and drop into the feeling of now. 🙏🏻