Heartbeat

The average human heart beats about 70 times per minute while at rest.  This miraculous muscle, over the course of an 80 year lifespan, puts out about 2.5 gigajoules, making it an easy forerunner for the muscle that performs the most physical work in the whole of the human body - thus, potentially one of our most valuable assets.

However, to put things in perspective, a barrel of oil holds six gigajoules of potential energy (once combusted).  One could certainly make an observation or two here about the worth of a human body versus the worth of a barrel of oil, at least in terms of energy.  Similarly, one may pause to consider whom else might have pondered that same comparison while making governing decisions that would effect the lives of many such low output human hearts.  However, that goes rather off on a different tangent.  The focus here, remains the heart.

To get down to the heart of it, if you'll excuse my overly blatant pun, we're all run by these little beating batteries; steady clocks, thudding away in our chests, keeping time with our lives.  What's curious though, is not the form or function of the heart, but the story its been woven into.  So inseparable is the heart now from the concept of love that its difficult to trace back to a time when the two were not joined - even ancient Greeks and Egyptians believed that the heart controlled our thoughts and feelings, not the mind.    Ironically enough, when it comes to the physical manifestation of the feeling of love, it is in fact the brain that plays a greater role.  The production of estrogen, testosterone, dopamine, and serotonin lead from infatuation to comfort, then in time, the brain ups its protein levels and begins to bridge between certain neurons, leaving the memory of what we call love in our very grey matter.

Yet, all science aside, it is the heart that aches when another heart is near. It is the chest that feels empty, when a heart pulls away.  And, it is the heart that fills with joy at the smile and touch of someone held dear.

Right now, my heart, is quite full. 

This has been a bit of a ramble, with little point, and even less of a conclusion.  My personal serotonin levels are pretty high currently, so I'm going to have to leave things in this half thought out state and sign off for sleep.  Enjoy this while I enjoy that.

Enjoying the Unexpected

Despite the bad wrap that moving gets from most people, I will admit, I still remain convinced that overall, its an enjoyable experience (my family, whom have helped me move nearly every year since 2004, will most certainly cringe at this statement - however, I like to think I've streamlined the process considerably by this point - my last move took less than 3 hours, and ended in a lovely lunch of pizza at a local pizzeria).

In every move it seems there is a magical period of time - those first few days when everything in your new place finally comes together to form a home. Whether makeshift or permanent, this shelter becomes slowly your own, and with each move comes the possibility for reassessment and reinvention. There is a natural space for purging the old and unused and time to build up the new. We find ourselves thinking quite literally about what reflections of our person we choose to display to the world, but more importantly, what we choose to view of ourselves each day as we craft our new surroundings. Its stunning how the photographs that held such meaning in one building - one stage of our lives - can be packed away and out of sight without a second thought in a room with fresh paint; intriguing how the color schemes that seemed just right now drop away in exchange for more fitting hues. The act of moving is a shedding of skin, the dance of a chameleon, the practice of remaining flexible and fresh.

Imagine the first week of any given moving experience. Without fail, there will be stress; you are uprooted, your belongings are shuffled about, misplaced, and you must actively rearrange everything that holds distinct familiarity and comfort in your life. The unexpected is bound to arise; leaky sinks, furniture that doesn't fit as planned, questionable neighbors - there is simply no telling what you will run into. But this, all of this, is a huge gift. In these moments of unrest, we are forced to rise above ourselves, to step out of our comfort zones and step into stronger and better versions of whom we've already become.

Moving, for all of its tension, is a fairly good reminder that everything is temporary, and that nothing should be taken for granted. Each moment, even those riddled with stress or unwanted change, is a unique opportunity for growth, learning, or just a smile you didn't see coming.

So, here's a toast to enjoying the unexpected...in moving, in romance, in life, in fishing even. Whatever the universe throw at your feet, stare it back in the eye and say, "You there! Let's do this!"

And if you absolutely can't for some reason...might I suggest investing in some donut holes and seeking out a sunrise.