"Measuring," she answers.
I am not surprised. My phone - a gift from my husband - came equipped with a variety of applications I have never used and never bothered to discover.
"What are you measuring?" I ask as she shows me the phone where a few numbers are now climbing and dropping.
"My heart pressure or my heart beat," she answers and shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know."
I smile and watch her as she attempts to understand numbers that are supposed to tell her something about her heart.
This is an organ I know so little about myself. I have often ignored its flow patterns or even the rate at which it pumps. I just trust it to do its job, day in day out, without gratitude that it directed the blood especially well today. As I wonder if there is even such a thing as heart pressure, I am interrupted by a call from a friend. I can tell she is crying, overwhelmed by emotions, exhausted by trying to be everywhere and do everything.
Yes, there is such a thing as heart pressure.
How willing are we to give out our love to everyone before giving it to ourselves. Since when do we forget that we matter, always and without condition?
Pump, pump, pump, there is always enough love.
Love yourself first!