How Much You Loved
Heart Wisdom
We tend to think of the heart as a symbol—love, passion, loss. But the heart is also a living intelligence, shaping our experience in ways we rarely acknowledge. It beats before the brain even forms, pulses with its own rhythm, and sends more information to the brain than it receives. It holds memories, influences perception, and speaks in a language we often ignore.
In modern life, we prioritize the mind. Rationality, analysis, logic. We are taught to think our way through problems, to dissect emotions rather than feel them. Yet, when we quiet the noise of our thoughts and tune into the heart, something shifts. The body softens. Breath deepens. We feel.
Ancient traditions have long understood this. In Chinese medicine, the heart is not just an organ but the emperor of the body, the seat of consciousness, known as the Shen. When the heart is at peace, the entire system functions in harmony. When disturbed, like a bird’s nest shaken by the wind, the spirit scatters—leading to anxiety, restlessness, and disconnection. Healing, then, is not about subduing symptoms but restoring coherence, creating a safe home for the spirit to return.
The heart doesn’t deal in words; it deals in knowing. It understands before we do. It contracts in fear, expands in love, signals us when something is right—or deeply wrong. Science is beginning to catch up with what many traditions have long understood: the heart has its own kind of consciousness. A wisdom that, when honored, can lead us toward healing.
Healing isn’t just a process of fixing what’s broken. It’s a process of remembering—of returning to a state of wholeness that was never truly lost. The heart is central to this. Not as a poetic metaphor, but as a guide. It urges us to stay present in our bodies, to listen to the subtle shifts within us, to move through pain rather than around it.
This isn’t about sentimentality or blind optimism. The heart’s wisdom is fierce. It demands honesty. It asks us to feel what we’d rather numb. But in doing so, it leads us back to ourselves. To a place where healing isn’t just possible—it’s inevitable.