How to Soften a Hardening Heart

Turning Down the Noise

Have you ever noticed how quiet it gets when the power goes out?

All the sounds you took for granted—the hum, the whir, the distant static—suddenly vanish. So much so that you can actually hear how loud your breath is, inhale, and exhale.

Some days, I can feel the noise tightening around me.

Not necessarily because there’s more of it, but because it’s often attached to something loud, something urgent, something shouting under the disguise of “need.”

It’s the kind of noise that turns into an emotion, making the world feel sharper around the edges than it was before. Violence. Division. Disconnection.

So, how do I do a better job of not letting all this distracting noise harden my heart?

And what about you? Do you feel your heart bracing itself more often these days?

Where Beauty Lives

This weekend, I visited the Wickford Art Festival in the historic village of Wickford, Rhode Island. They’ve held it every summer since 1962. And for me, that alone is reason enough to keep doing the work of softening my heart.

Because on a personal level, it lets me turn the power off—the kind of power that fuels all the noise I can’t control. It gives me space to witness the kind of cultural experience I never want to take for granted.

Filtered sunlight. A measured grid of white artisan tents. Soft green grass underfoot. Human exchange. The warm drift of festival food in the air. And most importantly, a common thread that draws like-minded people to slow down together, drawn by locally grown art.

“Let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.”

Mary Oliver

Repair in the Small Moments

Have you ever walked among strangers, or strolled through an art fair, and felt like you were being hugged—not by a person, but by the energy around you?

It comes in kind words—subtle but genuine greetings. The patience to listen as an artist shares their creative journey.

These are the stitches that repair us. They shield us from the kind of noise that has no place in our day.

We don’t soften in isolation. We soften in community, however small.

“The heart that breaks open can contain the whole universe.”

Joanna Macy

A Quiet Muscle

Earlier this morning, while journaling, I wrote that I didn’t need to come home from the festival with a physical piece of art. What I longed to carry instead was the creative energy of the many spirited artists I met—a shared perspective, not so distant from my own.

There’s a presence you can feel when walking through an art festival. It’s an energy that lives in real time. It doesn’t come with a price tag. It only asks to be noticed—and invites whatever attention you’re willing to give in that moment.

So when it feels like your heart is getting tight, don’t just think.

Touch.

Shape.

Create.

Yes, the world can hurt us. But the answer isn’t to go numb.

It’s to stay awake.

To stay human.

To keep the soul warm—and let your heart soften again.

Softness isn’t weakness. It’s the quiet muscle that holds everything together. We can either strengthen it through daily use…or ignore it, until it no longer serves its purpose.

Which would you prefer?

So here’s the quiet challenge this week:

• Listen to music—on purpose.

• Hug someone—for at least 20 seconds.

• Or notice where your heart has started to guard itself…and gently ask, why?

Talk soon…

G