In a small coastal village, there was a bridge that arched over the mouth of the harbour. To most people, it was simply a way across. But to those who paid attention, it was something more—a place where light gathered in ways that felt almost alive.
Isla, a quiet young woman who lived in the village, crossed that bridge every morning. She noticed how the sun’s rays danced across the water, slipping between the wooden boards, catching on the ripples below. In the warm glow, she often thought of her grandmother, who had raised her and recently passed into Spirit. The light felt like her grandmother’s presence—soft, steady, and guiding.
One morning, as Isla stepped onto the bridge, she saw an older fisherman struggling with his nets. Without thinking, she stopped, knelt beside him, and helped untangle the lines. He smiled in thanks, his weathered eyes bright. It wasn’t a grand act—just a simple moment of giving. She walked on, not thinking much of it.
Later that week, Isla found herself caught in a sudden storm. The wind lashed against the bridge, and rain stung her face. As she reached the far side, a stranger stepped forward, holding out an umbrella without a word. She accepted, her heart warmed by the silent kindness.
It dawned on her then—what her grandmother had always meant when she said, “Giving and receiving are the two ends of the same beam of light.” One cannot exist without the other, and both are acts of love.
But Isla’s lesson wasn’t finished. A month later, she was drawn into a disagreement between two friends. Tempers flared, voices rose, and she felt the urge to take sides, to defend, to be right. But something in her remembered the bridge. She took a breath. She let the moment pause. She listened—really listened—to the pain beneath their words. When she finally spoke, it was not to win, but to help them see each other’s hearts.
That night, as the sun set, Isla walked back to the bridge. She stood still, watching the light shift from gold to silver, the moon beginning its climb. She realised that the bridge wasn’t just a path over water—it was a living reminder of the way she wanted to move through the world.
When she paused before reacting, she could feel the “bridge” within herself—a place where emotion flowed in, awareness met it, and wisdom carried it forward. When she gave from that place, it felt natural, without strain. When she received from that place, it felt like honouring a shared humanity. And when she remembered the light of her grandmother’s love, it was as if the whole bridge glowed beneath her feet.
From then on, Isla made a quiet vow: to live as the bridge did—steady, open, holding space for the light to pass freely between giving and receiving, between one heart and another.
And so the villagers began to notice. Not because Isla was louder or more visible, but because when they crossed the bridge and met her eyes, they felt something rare. They felt seen. They felt safe. They felt, for a moment, like the light itself was touching them.
Many years later, children in the village told stories about the “Bridge of Light” and the woman who carried its warmth wherever she went. They didn’t know that the real bridge was not the wood and rope above the water—it was the space she held between her own open heart and the world around her.
Teaching:
To live with an open heart is to be the bridge—pausing to observe, giving without expectation, receiving with gratitude, and letting the eternal light of love guide every step.
audio version:
“The Open Heart: Observing with Awareness, Living in the Flow of Giving and Receiving”
The thread running through this service is that awareness, balance, and openness of heart allow our true nature to shine—connecting us more deeply to ourselves, to each other, and to Spirit.
From the Inspiration Guidance talk, we are reminded that emotions are sacred messengers, moving through the chakras and influencing every part of our being. When we observe our feelings without letting the ego take control, we create the sacred space between stimulus and response—a space where wisdom can guide our actions. This awareness transforms emotion from a reaction into a tool for healing, realignment, and authentic expression.
The Meditation on Calm and Clarity deepens this teaching by guiding us into the role of the observer. In stillness, we notice our thoughts and feelings without judgement. We experience ourselves as grounded, balanced, and filled with light, able to respond from love instead of fear. This state of awareness strengthens the link between the body, the soul, and the Divine.
The Story of “The Empty Hand, The Open Heart” illustrates the practical flow of this awareness in daily life—how giving and receiving are not opposites, but two movements in the same sacred rhythm. An open heart allows generosity without expectation, and humility in receiving without resistance. Both acts require trust, vulnerability, and the willingness to be part of the shared fabric of life.
Finally, the Sunbeams reflection offers the spiritual anchor for all of this: the reminder that love is eternal, and that the presence of our loved ones—whether in this world or beyond—continues to surround and guide us. Just as sunlight can slip through the smallest window, love finds its way into our hearts when they remain open. In every shaft of light, in every quiet act of kindness, in every moment we pause before reacting, the Divine connection is renewed.
Core Truth:
When we observe with awareness, soften the ego, and live with an open heart, we align ourselves with the natural flow of life—where giving and receiving are sacred, emotions are teachers, and love is an eternal light that guides us through all seasons.
audio version:
