It was just a routine check-up, which had me within a week lying in a darkened although white room. As a thankfully healthy individual, I felt awkward as I dressed in paper, was attached to several lines, and then heard my heart!

The swishing and sloshing as it worked, the magnificent reminder that my body is merely a machine. As the cardio tech followed the pattern of my heart, I wondered if she could see what it held.


The swelling of joy it has witnessed.

The fracture of disappointment.

The collapse in fear of the unknown.

The memories of days and weeks it lay abandoned, and yet survived.

The stubbornness of refusal.

The ability to replenish and recreate.

Does your beating heart remember these things?


You've also no doubt heard of how an infant calms down when held close to a familiar heartbeat. Does this scrap of humanity hear the rhythm of continuous love?



The stories you hear of the heart of one which is now housed in another. Can this pumping vessel also bring the recipient an additional gift of musical ability, of mathematical skills, of peace with the world? Does it bring a fragment of its previous owner and meld into something new? Can a heart re-shape your life and give you hope? (Tweet This)

Our heart. How often do we stop to listen to what it is saying to us? (Tweet This)

A friend of mine was spending a day of remembering on the anniversary of the loss of her spouse.

She was determined to work on her garden, cleaning it up in preparation for winter's approach, something she and her husband had enjoyed doing together. She knew that the messy business of kneeling on the grass and grabbing at the drying flowers would allow her to shed some private tears.

She dug in the soil until her shovel hit something hard. The object was bigger than she expected and she kept digging. And this is what she found. It’s been washed here, but it too bore the remnants of being hidden just below the surface. Just like a human heart.

Listening to my heart that day in that white room gave me many answers. Although our hearts are sheltered within from the bruises and delights of everyday living, it is a vault of what we choose to put inside. Let’s not forget its power and the magnitude of what it gives us.

Find your heart in each action you do. In each small act of kindness. In each huge act of forgiveness. Each time we bare open our fears and each moment we offer of silent support.

And when you give or find a heart, know that it is a gift. Just as my friend did.


Our hearts are vaults of our daily emotions. We can choose what we store inside. (Tweet This)