A few years ago, I had an ultrasound taken of my heart. I remember being brought to tears at the visual: the valves, opening and closing. I haven’t been the same since that appointment. It led me to reflect on a deeper understanding of my body.
Tell me, what nourishes the heart besides nutrition? Right now, I am thinking about the composition of life force.
I’m curious about courage. The origin of that word means to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart. There have been a number of experiences where I received healing because I decided to share myself, openly, and vulnerably. I would then experience a warming inside my chest beyond measure.
And what about passion? I imagine this as fire, or even lightning. Do you know the feeling of riding a rollercoaster, and the exhilaration that comes from the first drop? It hits my body that way. I think of myself chasing, no, being captured by these vibrations that energize me to do more, see more, be more.
Then there’s also grief. Heartbreak. And this is tough because when this happens, it gives an impression that this beautiful organ might actually shatter. I experience grief daily. I feel pressure from its blood-filled chambers, mourning from crisis, abuse and rejection. I feel the nature of today’s world tugging it down. It’s heavy, complicated and not always solution-able. However, these feelings are necessary. They remind me of the fullness of life, and hopefully, it’s potential to rebound.
These rich, varied parts lead me to learn that what these energies merge into is strength. The strength to feel love, to practice joy, to grieve, to hope, and yearn in a whirling of emotion that captivates the senses and blossoms my soul. Sometimes I’m in awe when I think I've hit rock bottom or things are as good as it gets, because that is where my heart is activated, to stretch me to new planes of existence, new depths of feeling that color my world beyond my wildest dreams.
The heart will always fascinate me. It is a gift to be a student of its beating fibers. To meditate on its pulse is to be present with a mystery that makes me aware of something very material, very real, yet a force beyond me, beyond what I could ever comprehend. I’m going to take a minute now to sit here with it.
A quiet, continuous, thumping.
Pumping me with love, pumping me with life.