Tuesday, April 30, 2013

A Taste of Heart...






By



John Warwick Arden





FIRST DRAFT


April 30, 2013


© John Warwick Arden

9 King George Parade,

Portland Vic 3305


 
 
 
 
It starts with a miracle.

The heart.

Most people don’t even think about the heart- until it gives up on them.

And then they PANIC, rather than think.

OMG. I almost died.’

And it usually only gives up on us…

if we have given up on it.

Or not noticed it to a sufficient degree.

A heart attack is the heart’s way of saying ‘pay attention’.

I need you to notice me’.

I notice it- every day, and every moment of the day.

What a miracle.



How did I come to notice the heart with such appreciation?

Did I have a heart attack?

No. I have never had a heart attack.

My heart NEVER took umbrage with me.

If anything…I took umbrage with it.



But that’s another story.

For now…I appreciate my heart.

With every fibre of my being.

It is indeed a miracle.

In every sense and definition of the word.

Think about it; this thing pumps away cheerfully-

or not so cheerfully, depending upon how well you treat it- as if by magic.

How does it pump?

What causes it to keep going, day in, day out?

What started it?

What was the key to the ignition of the heart?

I have no idea.

That’s the mystery, the magic and the miracle.

It seems strange to me now, that I spent so much of my life scarcely noticing what I had beating away inside my chest…until…

Well, suffice it to say we don’t know what we’ve got until it’s gone.

Although even that is arguable- because I can only assume that once we are gone-

we no longer notice ANYTHING.

Because we are dead.

Because the heart has stopped beating.

Wow. What a concept.

What a fragile concept.

What a slender tether we have that keeps us attached (or not) to our existence.

And the more one thinks about this concept- the more miraculous it seems.

For some reason, most people don’t think about this until they get older, more aware of their mortality, the fragility of life, closer to death…

Generally speaking, it’s not a young man’s game.

In youth, we assume we will live forever.

This makes the security and certainty of our existence somewhat mundane.

We are almost too cool to notice the miracle…

Or maybe even too distracted by this seemingly endless, bountiful supply of life…

We cannot possibly grasp that it would ever cease to be there for us.

It is only later in life…or when one has suffered a wakeup call unreasonably early…like an unexpected early start rubs our nose in the reality…

That we are forced to think about it.

Some people go their entire life without contemplating the miracle.

Not even once.

Some are anaesthetised to it forever.

They are cursed- or blessed- without the gift of realisation.

They will NEVER know what we know.



There are those who advise against thinking too much about this.

If you are not careful, you can be paralysed by the miracle, and never do anything.

Gripped by fear.

Or wonder.

You can be so enamoured, so enraptured- you can forget to live.

Most people advise that it is best to simply live with the miracle, and get on with life.



It’s too late for me; I noticed the gift of life.

And now I find it hard to think about anything else.

I had to find a way to reconcile myself with the miracle.

So enamoured of it was I…

Like a man in love with a beautiful woman…

so in love…

He ceases to be able to function.

He thinks of nothing else but the beauty of that woman.

I think of the miracle of my life, and find it hard to act any other way but to honour that miracle.

My life now is a sacrament to the beauty and wonder of the gift of existence.

It’s about gratitude.

Not everyone knows how to be grateful.

It’s a challenge certainly.

I understand that.

There have been times in my life where I have been ungrateful.

It has been all about what I DON’T have, rather than what I DO.

And the way people have HURT me, rather than all the things they have DONE for me.



This is coming from a place of profound scarcity.

When nothing is ever good enough, and one is trapped in a prison of desperation.

Always striving, seeking, and yearning for something better.

Something just over the horizon.

And it can drive you insane.

This perpetual quest for something indefinable-

that probably doesn’t even exist.

Not really.

Because it is not about what you don’t have, exactly…

but that vague indefinable sense of ‘absence’.

Something being missing.

Something that cannot be explained, or filled or fulfilled by…

ANYTHING.

And for many people, this yen can never be satiated.

Until & unless somehow, you are able to reach a state of grace, and appreciate what a wonderful miracle the heart is.

What a miracle LIFE is.

Easier said than done. I know.

Sadly, sometimes it takes A CRISIS to come into this state; and even then, not everybody can be awakened to the reality of gratitude and simple wealth.

Such a deep sleep are we in- such zombies are we, trained to live a certain way, slaves to an ideal largely imposed upon us by government and social systems…even our peers…

That the only true wealth is MONEY. POSSESSIONS. POWER. FAME.



I know now that these are not as important as I imagined them to be.

They are hardly any kind of wealth for the soul.

They can enslave us, rather than liberate us.

Such things can make it HARDER to let go…

And the soul will never be liberated.

They cause more suffering than joy…sooner or later.

I appreciate simple wealth.

Simple things.

The best things in life are indeed free of charge- if one can only see it.

When the perception is cleansed.

We can see that nature, people, family, friends, simple pleasures, health & welfare…

These are the only things of true lasting value.



I appreciate this now.

I truly understand the value of my own life.

If I lost EVERYTHING I own, all the people in my life that I value…

I know that if I still had my HEART…

I would still be in with a fighting chance.

I would still have LIFE- and contrary to popular belief…

LIFE IS EVERYTHING.

Contrary to the beliefs and ideology of the government, the corporations and their handmaidens the military…

LIFE IS A GIFT.

Everything else of value (& even that whose value is dubious) is drawn toward us purely by virtue of the fact that we are alive. Breathing. Our heart BEATING.

And one can either be GRATEFUL for this…miracle…

Or churlish.

I am reminded of the tale of the two children at Christmas time, both given identical gifts.

One is grateful and appreciative, and the other wilful and thankless.

The moral being, which one are you more likely to give additional gifts to??

I’m not going to get into an examination of whether gratitude begets personal gain, or attracts more wealth or not…

I certainly cannot prove it, one way or the other.

& in any event, this presupposes an EXPECTATION of reward in exchange for gratitude- & this is very much missing the point.

When in fact gratitude is its OWN REWARD.

GRATITUDE is the gift.

I see people around me in a state of constant yearning.

They never have enough, or are working too hard, or…

They wish they were dead.

I understand this; I have been there.

Wishing for death is the ultimate ingratitude.

I think it is even more obvious in others BECAUSE I have been there.

It seems more pronounced in them.

In fact, my gratitude seems all the more valuable to me in the light of their misery.

Even and especially when they become angry at me.

Like I have something they want, and it is not fair that I have it and they don’t.

As if somehow, I was given a special gift.



In a way, of course, I have been given a special gift.

And the heart of that gift is the ability to SEE the gift.

THAT is the difference.

In the darkness- they simply cannot see it.

The fallacy is that THEY cannot have that gift.

Of course they can; anyone can.

And only someone like me- someone who has been lost in the caverns, the labyrinthine tunnels of the darkness of perpetual loss and COME OUT- can see this.

In the dark forest- it is difficult to see. And yet now I am out of that dark forest- it is my MEMORY of that darkness that lights my way.

For if we did not have those dark moments…

How on earth can we possibly see the light???

For those fortunate enough to recover…



the light seems so obvious to me.

I wonder how others cannot see it.

I sometimes allow myself the indulgence of wondering how it was so hard for me to see; why I had to suffer to such an enormous degree to finally GET IT.

But that’s the deal; the suffering then is part of the joy now.

Just as Anthony Hopkins said in ‘Shadowlands’, ‘the suffering now is part of the joy then.

That’s the deal’.

It can go both ways.



I am reminded of the dark forest, from time to time.

I walk through a forest near my home every other day.

I walk, because it helps me untangle my thoughts. I am able to deal with the petty squabbles and insecurities of others I happen upon throughout my day.

People are so cruel to one another- and ESPECIALLY to themselves.

And even though I live in a place of gratitude- this does not mean one divorces oneself from the human race ENTIRELY.

And a person of compassion cannot help but be affected by the battles other people do with themselves and others.

I find the accumulation of the negativity of others cannot help but play out on my head; and the act of physical exertion helps me release it.

For, if I am not careful, out of sheer habit, I can be tempted to become a party to the human psychodrama once again.

People in the eye of the storm of that drama WANT to involve others- to draw them in.

Misery loves company.

So I walk, and as I walk, I let the bad energy bubble to the surface and the sheer physical exertion drives that energy out of me. Don’t ask me how it works.

Like the heart. It just does.

So I come home feeling clean again.

And ready and able to start again.

With a strong heart.

A heart that WANTS to live. Each and every day.

I am lucky, & blessed to have such a strong heart, that has endured so much.

& I mean this metaphorically AND literally.

It is no wonder the symbol of the heart links the two concepts so inextricably.

My heart has proven itself strong enough to endure a great deal of pain- AND it is strong when it comes to pure physical endurance.

When I have finished my walk, I truly notice my heart.

I cannot walk a level piece of path- I must have inclines. I need steep hills to walk up, to give me that aerobic work I need- my HEART needs- to get a good pump.

As I rid myself of the toxins in my body through this exertion, I also rid myself of the bad energy working away in my consciousness.

And at the end of my walk, I note my heart rate.

It’s not bad- it is usually around 175 beats per minutes, sustained for around 70 minutes, which is vigorous enough for a man my age.

And my resting heart rate is 60 beats per minute.

This is pretty good.

I am blessed with a very good heart.

And this fact alone would be enough- but to KNOW this, and to be grateful for it-

Is the true MIRACLE.



BLOCKAGE

Would that this feeling stayed with me…

This sense of the miraculous; but sadly…

It doesn’t.



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©John Warwick Arden

2013



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