“Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart and the senses.” — Lao Tzu

“The heart has reasons that reason cannot understand.” — Jacques Benigne Bossuel

 

def. Splendor: –verb (used with object)  to make splendid by decorating lavishly; adorn.

The hearts are strange things.  I say “hearts” because there really are two, at least.  There’s the physical heart, with all its functioning and definable purpose.  And then there is the metaphorical heart, full of hidden agendas and feelings.  They are two very separate entities, but are still somehow so closely tied that they are often mistaken as one.  But it’s the solitary, metaphorical heart’s power which holds the physical under its whims so effectively it seems as though it’s the physical heart’s doing in the first place.

Love.  So totally owned by the metaphorical heart.  The physical has absolutely no functioning reason to get involved.  It’s far too busy pumping X amount of blood through the body every Y amount of time, there is no room for feelings and metaphors.  It’s kind of like math and literature.  Logic and emotion.  Science and religion, if you will.  But love, in all its mysterious glory fills us up so much, metaphorically of course, that we physically feel something, and mistake the two hearts for one.  The flutter at the sound of his voice.  The skip at the sight of her.  The heat we feel under our skin.  Even the easily measurable increase in our pulse screams that this is a physical reaction by our stoic and indifferent central organ.  But, really?  Is it any wonder that there is so much intertwining confusion of the origins of these physical and emotional feelings? 

Love itself is a frustratingly confounded endeavor, and yet we strive for it, believe in it whole-heart-edly, yearn for it with all our being.  But what is it?  How many people have gone into a relationship believing it’s love, and yet coming out the other end believing it never really was?  How often is it said: “I’ve never really been in love,” and yet equally said: “I’ve been in love so many times”?  Love is neither measurable nor quantifiable, yet we insist on giving it a solid body with which to represent itself.  We try to quantify our love as “so much”  or grant it a time measurement of “always and forever.”  But what measures are those?  Non-measures.  Fake numbers.  Even the “imaginary” numbers we learned about in algebra hold more real value than any sort of measurement we tout in the name of love.  Yet we give credit to our physical heart and all its well functioning logic, as the metaphorical heart sits back and grins while pulling the strings of our lives. 

And then there is the pain of love lost.  The burning in the chest, where the physical heart resides.  The fast or hard beats of the physical heart.  The shortness of breath, again in the chest.  The loss of blood to the head or limbs, brought on by a malfunctioning heart perhaps?  Not at all, but as someone who has felt these very symptoms, I can attest to the all-encompassing power of the metaphorical heart and to it’s complete control over the physical body.  It’s not logical.  It’s not a scientifically sound argument that something that doesn’t even exist except in the “hearts” and minds of we humans to have such a profound physical effect on us.  And yet it does. 

So this metaphorical heart.  This invisible force that drives us to feel emotions, and especially to yearn for, seek out, feel and dread love, all at the same time.  What is it?  What gives it its power?  Why do we, as logical, soundminded, intelligent beings allow something so intangible hold such utter control over us?  Because the heart wants what the heart wants?  But as a non-entity, how can it want? 

But it does, and we do, and a-round-and-round we go!  Wanting, desiring, yearning, searching, reaching, loving, hurting, hating, and even dying in the name of love.  What silly animals we are!  But is there a choice in it?  Is it an unbidden torture we endure, or is it a self-inflicted condition which we happily maintain?  Either way, I for one don’t think I would ever step away, if the ability existed.  Of course, my hearts are “full of love” at the moment, so I may not be the best source of reason.