The heart is a fickle thing. Who can know it? Would love to believe that’s an original thought, but I know it’s Biblical. Don’t think that ever made sense to me, but suddenly it’s clear.
The heart, literally and absolutely, keeps the rhythm of your life. At this very moment you are slave to its whims. Feel it?
Currently mine is caught in a death grip of my own device. To suggest that it is caught in a vice would dehumanize its struggle. The grip is double fisted and the touch is human. It’s a steady squeeze that’s causing my heart to struggle to find a rhythm. Sometimes the squeeze manifests itself through an acidic twist in your stomach or the salt of tears down your cheeks. Either way, the squeeze continues.
It’s a wrestling match. The heart insists on the beat and the pulse, while the mind begs for a change of pace. The mind calls to the heart, “Please, please…you’ll break us both!” For a moment, the heart concedes. The pressure is relieved and there is a moment of suspended animation, a cleansing breath and a lucid thought. But it’s temporary, and the heart and mind both know it and they square off again.
I really thought the mind drove the rhythm – but now I’m not so sure. A struggling and desperate heart seeks its own rhythm and no amount of salve or distraction can keep it from its struggle and from running its course.
The double fisted grip returns – it’s rested and its grasp is assured. And so the heart continues – struggling, but maintaining. And the mind, unable to bring immediate relief, assures the heart that it is stronger than the current grip that binds it.
Both are tired. They know they’ll eventually agree and the heart will find a lighter course and an easier load. But for now – the match continues…