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.