Transformation from to Head to Heart  

What do the stars, trees, galaxies, and all of nature share with us? If you’ve ever wandered through a forest and felt the quiet wisdom of the trees, or sat in a field, lost in the beauty of wildflowers, or lay beneath the sky, marveling at the moon, the stars, and the planets—perhaps you’ve sensed it. If you’ve ever looked into someone’s eyes and glimpsed their soul, or examined the lines on your own hands, or the wrinkles on your face, you may have noticed something deeper: nature does not craft straight lines. From the spiraling galaxies to the curving paths of planets and even the swirling dance of atoms, life flows in circles, curves, and arcs.

As an artist and teacher, I have often heard students say, “I can’t even draw a straight line.” To that, I smiled, because neither could the Divine. In God’s infinite wisdom and creativity—and perhaps with a touch of humor—life was not shaped by rulers and straight edges. Instead, it was born of spirals, circles, and graceful curves. Straight lines, it seemed, were left for humans to create through logic and control. But the Divine preferred the softness of circles—forms that invited connection, forms that symbolized wholeness, unity, and belonging. We see this in our language too: “circles of grace,” “knitting circles,” “circle dances,” and the “circle of life.” These are the spaces where relationships flourish, where collaboration thrives, and where we find the deep bonds of equality and love. Straight lines? They are rigid, precise, often goal-driven, and tend to divide more than unite.

Life, from the very beginning, was created to be circular, to reflect the interdependence of all things. But somewhere in the course of history, humanity broke the circle. It turned away from the sacred call to live in harmony with creation, and instead, it reshaped the world into a triangle—where power sat at the top and everything else was pushed below. Perhaps the original sin wasn’t about an apple or a couple in a garden, but about the human inclination to sever the circle of life, to create hierarchy, and to disconnect from the whole

The Irish writer Daniel O’Leary said it beautifully: “A spirituality of the heart reveals that everything we search for is already within us.” The transformation our world so desperately needs lies not in reaching outward but in turning inward—to the heart to rediscover the circle within ourselves, the circle of inclusivity and relationship that has always been there. This shift, from the linear to the circular, is not just about changing the way we see the world—it’s about remembering who we truly are.

Nine months ago, the members of the three IHM Congregations began their own journey of transformation through a program called “Thresholds of Transformation.” Guided by wise spiritual leaders from across the world, (Donna Fyffe, a process consultant from the United States, Hilary Musgrave, a pastoral minister and expert in creation spirituality from Ireland, and Monica Brown, a Christian musical composer from Australia) this program invites participants to pause, to reflect, to listen deeply, and to engage in the kind of conversations that touch the soul. Rooted in the principles of Laudato Si’ and the Universe Story, it beckoned us to shift our focus from head to heart, from separation to connection, from parts to the whole. It called us back to a worldview held by Indigenous peoples for centuries—one where we were all part of a sacred web, where every living thing, including Mother Earth, was in relationship with us.

This is the transformation we need—a return to the way of the heart, where we recognize our place in the circle of life. A linear worldview, with its focus on power, hierarchy, and goals, cannot sustain the kind of relationships that the heart knows to be true. But a circular one invites us back into communion—with ourselves, with each other, and with Mother Earth.

Autumn, with its golden leaves and crisp air, is a perfect time to reflect on this transformation. The falling leaves remind us of life’s natural cycles—vibrant color today, and dull earth tones tomorrow. Yet we know they will return in spring, as they always do. Birds and butterflies migrate south, only to return next year, faithful to their ancient rhythms. The days grow shorter, and the nights grow longer, but soon enough, they will trade places once again, as they always have. Nature, in its gentle wisdom, reminds us of the cyclical rhythm of life. And we are part of that rhythm—more connected to the stars, the trees, and the galaxies than we often remember.

In our very DNA, we belong to the stars, to the earth, to each other. At the most fundamental level, we are one. We share the same Source of Love that flows through all of creation. Maybe we’ve forgotten, but this Love has been holding us in the Circle of Life since the beginning of time.

Let us take the steps we need, together. Let us cross the thresholds in front of us with courage and faith, knowing that on the other side is a rediscovery of the power and beauty of the circle. As Pope Francis so wisely reminds us, “If we want the world to change, then first our hearts must change.” We are standing on the edge of a linear worldview—let us have the courage to step through, to return to the circle that has always been waiting for us, and to embrace our responsibility for transformation as co-creators and co-inhabitants of this beautiful Earth, our home.

If we can do this together, as C.S. Lewis once said, “There are far better things ahead than any we leave behind.”

We are already one. It’s time to remember!