Lying in bed sick one morning, with no other distractions, I just listened to my heartbeat for a while.
As I lay there, I pondered the nature of my heart.
It was utterly amazing to me when I seriously considered that my heart keeps beating, day after day, year after year, consistently working without a break.
My entire being depends on it, and it provides the breath of life to every part of my body.
The more I need it, the harder it works.
If I clog it with grease, it doesn’t complain, just works as hard as it can with what its got.
I would immediately die without it.
And then it struck me…
This is why the heart is the symbol for love.