Knitting with Pigtails

I hope you all had a wonderful Independence Day and a nice break from work. Our town is just a mess during the 4th-residents usually duck out of town if they're smart, or perhaps venture out only during daylight. We tried valiantly to stick it out during the wet weather, but just minutes shy of the fireworks, decided to return home and have a nice dry evening. I was happy enough to watch the Pops and Keith Lockhart play at the hatchshell. (Country bumpkin that I am, I was thrilled to hear them play Adagio for Strings by S. Barber, one of my favorite pieces of all time.)

Scout was beside himself with the noise, so we were happy to stay home and comfort him as well.

On another note, one of my most beloved is having an echocardiogram today, which had me thinking on the way into work today. Why do we put so much pressure on the powers of the heart? We credit love, passion, hate and all sorts of emotional currents on this one organ, and I don't understand why. The heart is the strongest muscle in the human body, and for the most part, is the most dependable, unflinching piece of human machinery there is.

So why do we credit, or blame I should say, the mostly flimsy of human emotions on this part of ourselves? Why not blame love on the eyes, that draw conclusions so quickly? Or perhaps on our lungs, which seem to stop and shudder when we feel desire? But no, we look to the heart, the engine that just pump pump pumps away. I find nothing related to human passions when I think of cardiology, except perhaps from the rushing of one's blood when we are excited by anger or adoration. But that's blood. And when it is felt, it is felt throughout our entire being. Not just in the center of our chest. Hmm.

When I think of my heart, I feel more of the perfection of the human body as a whole, the symphony of organs and how they function together so perfectly. The heart is the engine, which makes the thought of it failing so frightening to me. But I certainly don't connect it with the feelings of love, hate, and passion. These are our imperfections. And the differences and weaknesses in ourselves that stop life from being just a stream of processes, day in, and day out. Emotions cause jarring changes and pauses in the pattern of life, changes in direction, and then perhaps a reason to live altogether. The heart beats incessantly whether or not we fall in love, fall out of love, or have unrequited love.