12/12/25

Greetings, Wildhearted Tribe!

Something remarkable happened last night.
It was an experiment… one I truly didn’t know would flop or soar.
But it soared. I could see it in their eyes and feel it in the air — this spacious, electric hum of connection.

For almost a year now, I’ve been attending an open mic night at a little mountain-gem eatery called the Cedar Mountain Outpost (special thanks here to Keturah Allgood and Heartsong Creative for making this happen). Open mics are unpredictable by nature — you never know what kind of magic (or chaos) will unfold.

But at the start of this year, I set a personal challenge:
to show up there, regularly, and practice storytelling.
To grow. To stretch. To learn the architecture of a story — cadence, emotional tone, the way a narrative can land soft or heavy, like music with no instruments.

Over time, a kind of micro-community formed. A “we’re in this together” crew of creatives who hold one another up as we stand vulnerably at the mic. There’s a tenderness to it — this mutual recognition of humanness. A quiet “me too.”

I’ve told all kinds of stories: raising chickens, heartbreak from a train derailment, whitewater adventures, and the jolt of leaping into the “mystery hole.”

But last night, something in me shifted.
Something new wanted to come through.

I felt compelled to share a meditation practice — an energy practice, really — about “boomeranging love out into the world.”

Part of me worried: Does this cross a line?​
But I knew this crowd.
I trusted their hearts.

So when they called my name, I walked up, took a breath, and began with a story from two summers ago when I guided whitewater kayak trips on the Upper Green River.

Every day, for two hours straight, I was immersed in pure wilderness — rainforest trees, moving water, and a silence so deep it recalibrated my entire nervous system. And then, like clockwork, one hour in… the Green River slips under the Peter Guice Memorial Bridge.

You can’t see the bridge from the river bend.
But you hear it.
This percussive thump-thump-thump of vehicles far above — echoing off the canyon walls.
It snaps you out of that blissful, dreamlike state and drops you abruptly back into the human-made world.

That summer I became unbelievably sensitive to noise. At the time, I didn’t understand why. But later I came across a passage in Eric Klein’s Jewels on the Path that explained everything:

"There is no perfect expression of truth that can be heard with the ears. The perfect expression of truth can be felt in the heart and with the inner senses. Your discrimination will be enhanced through going within and activating the inner senses.

Each of you have systems in place that act to discern what is truth. There is a meter inside of you, like a little bell that rings when you feel the vibration of truth coming through the words. So simply use your feelings and screen out that which is not for you.

You will find yourselves being more and more attracted to beings whose speech reflects a higher percentage of truth than to those who indulge in ego projections. Trust your feelings. Know that your experiences exist to teach you lessons of discernment."

And it clicked for me:
​Our bodies are truth-detectors!​
Weeks of immersion in Nature had recalibrated me. I was saturated in pure, undistorted truth — the energetic kind. And I could feel everything.

When I shared this, I saw faces in the crowd light up.
They know the Green River Gamelands, the Pisgah forest, the Dupont forests, those waterfalls, those hidden river coves.
They’ve felt the truth of Nature too.

Then I told them:
​Our bodies aren’t just energy receptors.
We can also project it.

I shared an exercise we did recently in a Wildhearted Gathering — standing back-to-back, sending and receiving emotions: love, calm, anger. Almost no one wanted to send anger. They just couldn’t. Something in us resists delivering harm.

That’s when I understood: we are wired for light.​
Given a real choice, most humans choose love.

All of this led me to the experiment I introduced last night:
a simple, powerful practice of projecting love — deliberately — to someone you care about.

And friends… it landed.
Deeply.

I watched them close their eyes.
I watched them soften, settle, glow.
I watched the room brighten — literally and energetically.

And at the end, when I said, “It’s the holidays… let’s send love out into the world,”
the whole room nodded.
Smiled.
Opened.

Afterward, people came up one by one and said,
​“Thank you. That meant something.”​
My heart was full to brimming.

Because this is how I believe we change the world —
one open heart at a time.
One circle at a time.
One small act of intentional care.

So today, I’m sharing the recorded version of this practice with you. I’ve also included a brief description in the Wildhearted Practice of the Week listed below.
It is truly a gift — from my heart to yours.

May you send love like light on a wind.
May you feel the joy of giving it.
And may it return to you in ways you never expect.

​Click here to listen:
Love on the Wind: A Heartstream Meditation​
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May we continue to gather, to grow, and to remember that even the smallest circles can hold the greatest light.

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Wild-Heart Practice of the Week:

Send Love on the Wind

Take a few minutes this week to tune into your heart and send love outward. Here’s how:

1. Find Your Heartbeat – Sit comfortably, place your hands over your heart, and feel your heartbeat.
2. Recall Love – Remember a moment when you felt pure love, joy, or appreciation. It could be for a person, a pet, or even a place that brings you peace.
3. Glow & Expand – Visualize your heart filling with golden-white light. Make it bright. Make it large.
4. Send It Out – Project that light and love to someone or something you care about. Swirl it, surround it, and imagine it landing in their heart as a gift. Spend as much time in this space as you can afford. 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 30 minutes feeling the love and like expand there.
5. Close with Gratitude – Thank your heart for being open, for this practice, and for the ripple it sends into the world.

Feel the joy of giving this love-light freely. Notice how it shifts your own energy and opens space for connection.

Something for the Path​
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Lately, I’ve had this song on repeat, letting it settle into my heart.
It’s a gentle reminder that what we do, how we love, and the light we send out… it matters.

Maybe it will move you the way it moved me.
Maybe it will inspire you to send a little more love into the world this week.
And maybe — just maybe — each small act, each open heart, adds to the ripple that can truly change the world.

In this YouTube video, Andra Day gives a soulful, stirring cover of the Burt Bacharach/Hal David classic:
​“What the World Needs Now is Love.”

​ → Click here to Watch & Listen​

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Field Notes is a weekly pause.​
A clearing in the noise.
A place to notice what stirs your heart — one story, one breath, one truth at a time.

Last night, I witnessed something magical: hearts opening, love moving, and a simple practice reminding us that even the smallest circles can hold the greatest light.

If this note resonated, share it with someone who might need a little reminder of connection, joy, or the power of sending love out into the world.

With warmth,
​Namaste,​
Rachel

P.S. Thank you for being here. May you carry a little love on the wind this week — and feel it returning to you in unexpected ways.

If you feel called to support this work, you can leave a small tip or contribution here:
→ [Support the Work]​
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🌿 Explore more meditations, writings, and wild-heart practices at RachelDickson.com​

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You can find more writings by Rachel here on her blog.

You can find Rachel's Tedx Talk that ultimately led to the creation of these Field Notes at www.RachelDickson.com​

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