The Heart
The Heart: Abstract oil painting on canvas by Khalisthi, 16" x 20"
After numerous failed attempts at trying to write about the dynamics of feeling generated by the emotional function of the heart, I have realized that I am not qualified for such a task. Inorder to write about a thing material object or otherwise, one must be familiar with it, know is attributes, understand its working principle and the end result. I have heard, read and perceived in my interactions, the general notion that, heart and feeling is a name we give to the beautiful illusion that permits us to weakly acknowledge the presence of a want and not be responsible for having to pursue it. It allows us to live under the false premise we are not compelled to act on our wants, that everything is a mirage and that “time will heal it – whatever it is”. It is cozy place where feelings lie tied up in bundles, opening up at some metaphysical encounter with the various forms of human element, numbing all other senses and recoiling in panic like a threatened animal when faced with thought. I feel sad when I see poverty – what will you do about it? I feel happy because I am good – good at what? I love you but I don’t know why!I am not familiar with this side of my heart, have no clue it exists, and if it did what its purpose might be. This is the kind of heart I know. It is not the subconscious space for floating abstractions of what I wish, but a persistent originator of what I want. Where every wave of want surges towards the shores of fulfillment. Not the final resting place of a sense of achievement and happiness at the end of a pursuit, but the motivator urging me to revel in these emotions at every step I take toward achieving my goal.
Not bound by the shackles of guilt, regret; burdened by convention or forced to accept and submit in defeat. It’s not an aging prison that uses the feeble, crumbing social standards of propriety to restrain soaring flames of every kind of passion, not a rule of the dead that says sorrow and suffering are but inevitable in ones life and one must patiently, willingly suffer inorder to become deserving of happiness. It’s an untiring warrior with a restless spirit, incapable of relenting, unaccepting of defeat, impervious to suffering. Silently challenging anyone refusing it the right to exist. To exist with undying passion for life and freedom.
Not a warm corner filled with pure selfless love, love that needs no explanation, love that’s beyond all logic or reason, love that wants nothing and gives everything away. No…. this heart is hungry beast that thrives on lustful longing, dark pleasures and a fierce need to posses everything, in everyway in what it loves.
The only heart I know is the one that works on the ‘principle of want’. This is a heart that sees no impossibility, acknowledges no motive greater than its own pleasure and this the place where every conscious action begins and ends. This is a heart that thinks!
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