Lately (always?) I’ve had trouble falling asleep, I can’t turn my brain off and / or just lay there looking at Joe’s little butt in the monitor hoping he won’t be up at 5 again, doing that Math, how much sleep will I get?, which is why Elizabeth gave me a bunch of CBD sparkling waters, which is why LAST night, I lay in bed hangry for string cheese, thinking about The Heart. We talk a lot about The Heart, and how it wants things, and Knows things, and tells us things, and is Broken. But we’re talking about something different than the actual organ that pumps our blood. We are actually talking about our Brain. Lying there, I felt like I was Santa’s lawyer and I had just spotted the In God We Trust on the dollar bill — that I had just isolated one of the ways in which humans speak daily in Metaphor, without actually realizing it. I don’t know in what world I would ever be a Lawyer proving the existence of Metaphor, but still, I felt like I’d discovered something massive, so I fell asleep. But this morning I realize that when we talk about our Heart — when it longs and feels and bursts — we are talking about our Center. Like the very middle of ourselves, where our Soul hides, the point through which all parts of ourselves flow. So I think we ARE actually talking about the anatomical heart. There is in fact something called Broken Heart Syndrome, caused by a rush of stress hormones through the heart. But still, I like to think that 95% of humans, when longing or sad or considering next steps, close their eyes and imagine the Valentine’s Day card that rests right behind their ribs, pulsing with What to Do.