Heart’s Transformation with St. Teresa of Ávila: Narcissus & Echo Warning
- BE
- Apr 11
- 10 min read
Heart’s Transformation in the Garden of the Soul
For nearly two weeks now, spring has gently arrived in Poland. To me, it is more than a seasonal change - it marks the beginning of a deeper transformation, one that touches not only the garden but the heart as well. Standing beneath the sunlit blue sky, I often think of the inner transformation so tenderly described by St. Teresa of Ávila.
The transformation of the heart is a deeply inner process that leads us to a richer understanding of ourselves and of God. Like the first stirrings of spring in the sun-warmed earth, it does not come through external changes alone, but unfolds secretly through the gradual renewal of our thoughts, desires, and attitudes.
The transformation of the heart opens the way to a life of greater peace, freedom, and love, because our outer life springs from what happens in the heart.
On these warm days, when I go out to the garden, I check on the tulips, daffodils, muscaris, crocuses, hyacinths and other - pushing through the bark with Hildegardian viriditas 🌿. Here and there, you can already see the leaves of the daffodils, also reaching toward the sun.
Today, a particular feeling of nostalgia came over me when I began looking through photos from last year’s walks in Canada… And memories of conversations with Cassia (sometimes I write Kasja) came back. Actually, I ended up writing her a letter.
Do you want to read it?
Or maybe you are that Cassia today?
🌸🌿🌸 In this post, I share who Kasja/Cassia is to me, and reflect on the spiritual symbolism of cassia and the scent of anointing in the Bible:
Perhaps a moment of reflection will awaken in you, too, and you will look into the truths you carry in your heart. As Scripture says in Ezekiel 36:26:
“I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will remove your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”
Knowledge grows from biblical principles, and wisdom is born from putting them into practice.
Heart’s Transformation - from the vestibule to the depths: the chambers of Teresa of Ávila - My Letter to Cassia
Dear Cassia,
Since the sun has been shining in Poland and I watch the plant world awakening every day, I can’t stop thinking about you. I pulled out the photos from our Canadian walks.
Do you remember those fragile, tiny white daffodils with golden-yellow centers delicately edged in crimson red?
When we first came across them on the walk in the forest near Huron, you knelt beside them and said they looked like tiny wounds, bleeding so abundantly that it reflected off the white petals. Later, when we spotted them again in some city garden, we delighted in them like children. For me, they were a little floral treat - and probably for you too, since you loved them so much!
You leaned closer again, to breathe in their scent. Subtle. Deep. Like a prayer whispered from the heart. We didn’t need words then.
Or those yellow daffodils, which somehow appeared in your little garden! Big, radiant - like the sun - wide open with a large trumpet in the center, resembling a megaphone announcing: “Look at me!”
Back then, though, a quick “Wow!” was enough, and we moved on.
“Sometimes we do the same,” you said - we trumpet outward what we carry in our hearts, curating ourselves on social media, in conversations, in the eyes of others, trying to look perfect.
Meanwhile, Scripture says:
“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”
God doesn’t read our profiles (though He certainly sees them 😃) - He looks at the heart, at our intentions.
It’s not about silence, but about authenticity.
You can have a trumpet, you can speak loudly, but in truth, without a mask, without constantly checking: “Are the nymphs watching? Are the likes coming in?”
So today, let’s walk once more through the chambers of the heart with Teresa of Ávila - a little springtime reminder. We open the windows and trust our home - our soul 😃.
The First Chambers - The Soul Full of Noise, Clamour, and the Desire to Be Seen
Teresa of Ávila said of the first chambers:
“Souls in these chambers do not yet understand that it is not about shining, but about letting themselves be transformed.”
Like yellow daffodils - spreading, full of brightness and energy, sometimes even competing for sunlight - souls living in the first chambers are more aware of themselves than of God. They desire to be noticed, appreciated, and liked. Their prayer is often to themselves, rather than within themselves.
Do you recall those yellow daffodils of the soul - the ones that cried, “I must be amazing, I must impress everyone, I must look strong”? How they lost their fierce power when the gentle light of truth fell upon them? No longer roaring, they now stand quiet, transformed by a slow and tender grace.
The sleepless nights of fear - “what will people think” - when you posted a photo of your new painting on Instagram, or when I wrote that crazy article, are gone!
This stage, where spirituality could be a façade, prayer a performance, and relationships a game, begins to pass, and we become more open and joyful. Though outer beauty may catch the eye, its scent does not satisfy.
I’m glad, Cassia, that you feel it too - that you are no longer so self-conscious and embarrassed, and that you tell me honestly what you’re experiencing. You are no longer afraid to share a different opinion.
The Middle Chambers – The Soul Becomes Aware of Its Masks
“Here we enter the room where our illusion ends. Truth becomes a mirror, but also a sword.”
Something profoundly painful happens here, yet it is necessary. It’s as if the daffodil - the yellow, outward one - looked into a mirror and saw a crack. The soul begins to see itself more and more in truth - the kind that hurts but leads to transformation. It sees how preoccupied it was with itself, how many reactions came from fear, the need for control, or past wounds.
Teresa writes that in the deeper chambers, it is no longer about being seen or applauded. Awareness of who we truly are is enough.
“The soul that allows God to cleanse it of illusion will know the truth - and that truth will be a path, not a burden.”
I see you entering there, Cassia, sometimes slowly, stumbling, but still moving forward. I am so proud of you and moved, because you carry something within you that I am only beginning to understand.
You become quiet because you no longer need to be the brightest in the group. You’re not bursting to give a clever answer. Yet others still gravitate toward you, like bees to honey, because they see the light transforming you. After all, they feel the energy that fills them with peace. It is you, Cassia, who grows and blooms like a strong, vibrant flower in spring!
You exude that unique fragrance God has filled you with. I can feel it too, and I draw from your wisdom.
This is exactly the moment when the white daffodils appear. Their presence is subtle. These are souls that have begun to savour silence. They are learning to be fragrant… not for people, but for God.
The Deep Chambers - The Soul Becomes Fragrance
White daffodils with golden-yellow centers delicately edged in crimson red, so fragile that one breath of wind might shatter them, still carry a sweet, subtle scent. They are the image of a soul that has surrendered to suffering, to being stripped bare, and to the gentle revelation of its deepest truth.
The golden-red center - like a pierced heart, a love that has passed through the fire of purification. These are souls that no longer seek to “be right,” but to “be in Truth.” They stop controlling, stop fighting. They enter into a loving dependence on God - not into spiritual independence from others.
“Love and truth wound, but only they can set the soul free to fullness.”
The Great Chamber - The Soul’s Marriage with the Beloved
This is the place where only white flowers bloom with fragrance.
A place where the soul no longer needs to be strong, perfect, or enough.
Where truth no longer frightens, but soothes.
Where love needs no audience.
The soul does not shine, but radiates a quiet, peaceful light. It does not speak, but breathes God’s presence, and from this silence arises a peace that others can feel, even without words.
It is the daffodil that blooms in secret, like many saints of whom the world knows nothing.
Jesus said to Alicja Lenczewska:
“Do not be afraid to see yourself as you are, for only thus can I truly love you.”
From Showing Off to the Scent of the Heart for God. Narcissus and Echo as a Warning
Cassia, do you remember the myth of Narcissus?
He knew he was being watched by Echo, by the nymphs, by everyone. That was what mattered most to him: his social image, being admired, being at the center of attention.
He gazed into the water’s mirror and loved what he saw. But he didn’t know - or perhaps didn’t want to know - that it was only a reflection. In the end, this pursuit of others’ attention led him to a state of complete emptiness. He withered within himself, without a true relationship with himself, with others, or with God.
Echo, for her part, became merely the echo of other people’s voices - until she herself became emptiness.
Echo - the One Who Became Only the Echo of Others’ Words
Echo was once a beautiful mountain nymph, talkative and full of life. She loved to converse, sing, and tell stories - her voice filled the forests and mountains. But she got into trouble with Hera (Juno).
Hera discovered that Echo was helping Zeus hide his affairs - distracting the goddess so she wouldn’t notice what her husband was doing. In her anger, Hera punished Echo in the cruellest way she could: she took away her own voice.
From that moment on, Echo could only repeat the last words of other people’s sentences. She could no longer express herself. She could not say, “I love you,” “I need you,” “I am here.” She could only reflect what someone else had said before - like an empty echo in the valley.
Then she saw Narcissus.
In love with him at first glance, she followed him in silence, waiting for her chance.
When Narcissus finally noticed her and called out, “Is anyone here?” she could only answer, “There is someone… someone…” When he said, “Come here!” she repeated, “Come here!… here!…”
Proud and icy-hearted, Narcissus rejected her without mercy: “I would rather die than belong to you.”
Echo could only repeat: “belong to you… to you…”
Wounded to her core, she fled into the deep forests. Her body began to wither from longing and pain. She became thinner, paler, more transparent, until at last she vanished entirely - dissolved into nothing but an echo.
Echo became an echo - pure repetition of others’ words, without her own content, without her own soul. Emptiness. Complete emptiness.
This is the aspect that contrasts so sharply with Narcissus: he dies from love of his own reflection, a false image of himself; she, from a love she could not even express in her own words.
In the end, both Narcissus and Echo fell into emptiness, though in opposite ways. Narcissus - trapped within himself, isolated from everyone else.
Echo - entirely given to others, yet completely lost to herself.
Neither ever knew a true relationship: not with their own soul, not with another person, and not even with the divine.
They became symbols of loneliness - he as a flower, she as a voice without a body.
And today I ask myself again:
🌿 Which daffodil am I - the yellow one, visible but empty… or the white one, unassuming, yet full of the fragrance of authenticity? Or am I only an echo?
🌿 Am I afraid to see the truth about myself?
🌿 Are my relationships a struggle to be right… or an invitation to truth?
And you? What do you think? Is it worth taking a walk through the spring forest with Teresa of Ávila?
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Take your time.
Teresa of Ávila would say: go slowly, with humility.
Teresa of Lisieux would say: take small steps.
Jesus would say: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Stay with Me. I have always loved you, and I love you still - just as you are.”
I’ll just say: I see you. I feel that delicate fragrance of your soul. And I care about you more than you know.
If one day you feel the need to speak about what is “trumpeting” from deep inside you, or about the hidden hurts in your heart, please write to me.
You don’t need many words. A trumpet daffodil emoji🌼 or a simple heart ❤️will be enough. I’ll know what you mean.
I am here. I am here for you, dear Cassia.
I love you and pray every day that you won’t be afraid to live in His Truth—for in it is freedom and the true fragrance of life. 🌺🤍🌿
Blessings & HugsBE🌺🤍
A Note on St. Teresa of Ávila (for new readers):
St. Teresa of Ávila (1515–1582) was a Spanish mystic, reformer of the Carmelite order, and one of only three women declared Doctors of the Church. Her work, The Interior Castle, is a spiritual map of the human soul, describing seven chambers through which the soul passes on its journey toward union with God. Teresa teaches that true prayer and a relationship with God lead through the discovery of the truth about oneself - even if it hurts.
Highlights from The Interior Castle:
🌱 The First Chambers: the soul is still attached to the world and illusions, unable to distinguish truth from falsehood.
🌱 The Middle Chambers: a stage of inner struggle, purification, and uncovering one’s masks and wounds.
🌱 The Deep Chambers: the humble, open soul passes through the night of the spirit, beginning to truly hear God.
🌱 Spiritual Marriage: the soul’s union with God, full of love, peace, and freedom.
St. Teresa of Ávila shows the path of true spiritual transformation:
“The more the soul knows itself, the more it sees that there is nothing to boast of, and yet the more it trusts in the Mercy of God.”
In the following posts, I briefly share my own experience of walking the path of faith and following in His footsteps of grace:
Thank you for reading all the way to the end. Wishing you a blessed day. 🌺🤍
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