Heart of stone

Some people feel quite proud when they’re told they have a heart of stone — a heart that feels almost nothing.

Today, I encountered a stone shaped like a heart. I moved it, I threw it around, yet it never changed its shape or color.

More than ever, I prefer being called weak — for having a heart that bleeds and feels pain when it’s abandoned or hurt by lies — rather than having a heart of stone.
I prefer being vulnerable, allowing my heart to burst with both joy and sadness, rather than keeping a heart with no spark of hope or trust in a better world.
I prefer a heart that beats, a heart that loves and shows it, rather than one that is ruthless and indifferent — finding comfort in the phrase: “What you do to me doesn’t affect me.”

The heart needs to live, to love, and to be loved.
It needs the oxygen of the lungs to keep the body alive, and must release its impure blood to renew itself.
The heart is the ultimate symbol of exchange and connection — without it, life itself fades away.

So if you ever boast about having a heart of stone, remember: it’s a dead heart. You might protect yourself from pain, but also from happiness.

A heart that knows how to feel is a heart that beats, that fights, that wins — and sometimes loses — but above all, it’s a heart that lives, that triumphs over death.

Let us all allow our hearts to beat and never turn into stone.

Written by Umutoniwase Aliane