I've been thinking lately about the word devotion and what it really means in our everyday lives. We often associate devotion with religion, prayer, or a particular spiritual practice, but I find myself experiencing it in a much broader way. What if devotion is simply what we choose to give our heart, energy, and attention to? And if that's true, what are we devoted to without even realizing it?
This question has been sitting with me as I've returned more deeply to the teachings of Bhakti, the yogic path of love and devotion. Bhakti can be expressed through prayer, mantra, chanting, ritual, or devotion to the Divine, but what resonates most deeply with me is the idea that devotion can become a way of living. It can be found in how we love, how we forgive, how we care for one another, how we care for ourselves, and how we meet the more difficult parts of being human.
I've always thought of this life as a kind of Earth school. Being human gives us this extraordinary opportunity to experience love, beauty, connection, creativity, and joy while also asking us to navigate grief, disappointment, anger, fear, judgment, and loss. Maybe the spiritual journey isn't about rising above our humanity at all. Maybe our humanity is the practice, and these experiences are part of what we're here to learn from.
That idea feels even more meaningful to me as I get older. I've noticed that I'm becoming increasingly aware of the energy I exchange with others, and it has become harder for me to remain in spaces where anger, judgment, resentment, or blame become the primary language. Perhaps I notice these energies so deeply because I know them within myself too, and I continue to learn how to meet them differently. I know what it feels like to be angry, hurt, frustrated, disappointed, or misunderstood. I've judged. I've reacted. I've carried things longer than I needed to. I'm human too. What has changed is my desire to understand those feelings, take responsibility for what belongs to me, and eventually let go of what I no longer want to carry.
Somewhere along the way, I began to understand that feeling something and choosing to live from it are very different things. Anger can arise without becoming the place we build our home. Hurt can be acknowledged without becoming our identity. Forgiveness doesn't mean pretending something was okay, and compassion doesn't require us to continually place ourselves in situations that hurt us. Sometimes the most loving thing we can do is create a boundary, step away, and still choose not to carry resentment with us.
This is one of the reasons I return again and again to Quan Yin and the wisdom of the Divine Feminine. Quan Yin reminds me that an open heart doesn't have to mean an unprotected heart. Compassion and discernment can exist together. We can recognize the wounds someone else may be carrying without making those wounds ours to heal. We can love and still say no. We can forgive and still choose a different path forward.
For me, this is where Bhakti becomes more than something practiced on a meditation cushion. It becomes something we live in the grocery store, in traffic, in our homes, in our relationships, and during those difficult conversations when someone manages to touch the exact place within us we thought we had healed years ago. It can be the breath we take before responding, the apology we offer when we know we were wrong, the boundary we finally honor, or the old story we decide we no longer need to carry. Sometimes it may simply be the quiet realization that I don't want to carry this energy anymore.
I've been leaning more deeply into books, teachers, mantra, meditation, nature, and the wisdom of the Divine Feminine lately because I need those reminders too. The world can feel incredibly loud, and there is so much anger, division, judgment, and fear competing for our attention. I don't want to ignore what is happening or pretend that everything is love and light, but I also don't want those energies deciding how I live my life. I keep coming back to the question, What am I feeding with my attention? Because whatever receives our attention receives some of our energy too.
What happens if we consciously begin feeding something different? Compassion instead of judgment. Curiosity instead of assumption. Forgiveness instead of resentment. Gratitude, creativity, kindness, connection, and love. None of this means becoming passive or looking away from what needs to change. Sometimes love asks us to speak up. Sometimes compassion requires action. Sometimes living from the heart means creating a boundary or walking away. Perhaps the difference is becoming more conscious of the place within ourselves that our choices are coming from.
This is what Bhakti is beginning to mean to me in this season of my life. It isn't asking me to avoid being human; it's asking me to become more conscious about how I want to be human. I can't control how another person moves through this world, whether they choose to heal, forgive, soften, or hold onto their anger. But I can continue tending to what lives within me. I can notice my reactions, take responsibility when I need to, practice forgiveness, and keep returning to the kind of person I want to be.
Maybe that is devotion too. Not perfection, not getting it right all the time, but simply returning. Returning to the heart, returning to compassion, returning to ourselves, and returning to what matters.
So perhaps the question isn't only What do I believe?
Maybe the deeper question is... What am I devoted to through the way I live? What am I feeding with my attention? What am I carrying that I am ready to put down? What kind of energy do I want to bring into my home, my relationships, my community, and this world?
I don't know that any one of us can change the entire world, but I do believe we can change the little piece of the world we touch. And perhaps when enough of us begin there, living with a little more awareness, compassion, forgiveness, and heart, something larger begins to change too.
With love & deepest gratitude ,
Donna ✨
This question has been sitting with me as I've returned more deeply to the teachings of Bhakti, the yogic path of love and devotion. Bhakti can be expressed through prayer, mantra, chanting, ritual, or devotion to the Divine, but what resonates most deeply with me is the idea that devotion can become a way of living. It can be found in how we love, how we forgive, how we care for one another, how we care for ourselves, and how we meet the more difficult parts of being human.
I've always thought of this life as a kind of Earth school. Being human gives us this extraordinary opportunity to experience love, beauty, connection, creativity, and joy while also asking us to navigate grief, disappointment, anger, fear, judgment, and loss. Maybe the spiritual journey isn't about rising above our humanity at all. Maybe our humanity is the practice, and these experiences are part of what we're here to learn from.
That idea feels even more meaningful to me as I get older. I've noticed that I'm becoming increasingly aware of the energy I exchange with others, and it has become harder for me to remain in spaces where anger, judgment, resentment, or blame become the primary language. Perhaps I notice these energies so deeply because I know them within myself too, and I continue to learn how to meet them differently. I know what it feels like to be angry, hurt, frustrated, disappointed, or misunderstood. I've judged. I've reacted. I've carried things longer than I needed to. I'm human too. What has changed is my desire to understand those feelings, take responsibility for what belongs to me, and eventually let go of what I no longer want to carry.
Somewhere along the way, I began to understand that feeling something and choosing to live from it are very different things. Anger can arise without becoming the place we build our home. Hurt can be acknowledged without becoming our identity. Forgiveness doesn't mean pretending something was okay, and compassion doesn't require us to continually place ourselves in situations that hurt us. Sometimes the most loving thing we can do is create a boundary, step away, and still choose not to carry resentment with us.
This is one of the reasons I return again and again to Quan Yin and the wisdom of the Divine Feminine. Quan Yin reminds me that an open heart doesn't have to mean an unprotected heart. Compassion and discernment can exist together. We can recognize the wounds someone else may be carrying without making those wounds ours to heal. We can love and still say no. We can forgive and still choose a different path forward.
For me, this is where Bhakti becomes more than something practiced on a meditation cushion. It becomes something we live in the grocery store, in traffic, in our homes, in our relationships, and during those difficult conversations when someone manages to touch the exact place within us we thought we had healed years ago. It can be the breath we take before responding, the apology we offer when we know we were wrong, the boundary we finally honor, or the old story we decide we no longer need to carry. Sometimes it may simply be the quiet realization that I don't want to carry this energy anymore.
I've been leaning more deeply into books, teachers, mantra, meditation, nature, and the wisdom of the Divine Feminine lately because I need those reminders too. The world can feel incredibly loud, and there is so much anger, division, judgment, and fear competing for our attention. I don't want to ignore what is happening or pretend that everything is love and light, but I also don't want those energies deciding how I live my life. I keep coming back to the question, What am I feeding with my attention? Because whatever receives our attention receives some of our energy too.
What happens if we consciously begin feeding something different? Compassion instead of judgment. Curiosity instead of assumption. Forgiveness instead of resentment. Gratitude, creativity, kindness, connection, and love. None of this means becoming passive or looking away from what needs to change. Sometimes love asks us to speak up. Sometimes compassion requires action. Sometimes living from the heart means creating a boundary or walking away. Perhaps the difference is becoming more conscious of the place within ourselves that our choices are coming from.
This is what Bhakti is beginning to mean to me in this season of my life. It isn't asking me to avoid being human; it's asking me to become more conscious about how I want to be human. I can't control how another person moves through this world, whether they choose to heal, forgive, soften, or hold onto their anger. But I can continue tending to what lives within me. I can notice my reactions, take responsibility when I need to, practice forgiveness, and keep returning to the kind of person I want to be.
Maybe that is devotion too. Not perfection, not getting it right all the time, but simply returning. Returning to the heart, returning to compassion, returning to ourselves, and returning to what matters.
So perhaps the question isn't only What do I believe?
Maybe the deeper question is... What am I devoted to through the way I live? What am I feeding with my attention? What am I carrying that I am ready to put down? What kind of energy do I want to bring into my home, my relationships, my community, and this world?
I don't know that any one of us can change the entire world, but I do believe we can change the little piece of the world we touch. And perhaps when enough of us begin there, living with a little more awareness, compassion, forgiveness, and heart, something larger begins to change too.
With love & deepest gratitude ,
Donna ✨
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