What are you doing to your heart, beloveds? Sometimes you treat it as a wayward child that you do not want to be seen. Are you embarrassed about your heart, that it loves, that it seems to get hurt, that it seems to give you trouble? What you call heartache might better be called mindache because it is your thoughts that besiege you and not your beautiful innocent heart.

Your heart is a heart of love. Do not misname it. Your heart is not a fool as you may have thought. Your heart is a beacon light. It would not have any ship hit the rocks near its shore. It is your own thoughts that are like the rocks that upset the ship of your heart. The shore is near. You are upon it.

You try to put your heart in a cooler or duffel bag, but it will not be contained. Your heart must out. Don't restrict your heart to civilization or restrict it to anything. Let your heart be beautiful. Let it beat its drums of love. Your heart is calling to you. It throbs love.

You would like to dress up love and have it be a commodity. Love is commodious but never to be traded or stinted or relegated to a back burner until a better deal can be struck. Your heart is the light of love, and it would be seen. It would beat to beat the band. It would shine to outshine all the dross that seems to pop up in the world to daunt it.

It is your mind that thinks to cosset and protect your heart, and your mind is beleaguered with thoughts, too many to think of. Your heart is simple. Your heart does not think about a million different things. Your heart is beyond thought. It is not to be condemned for that. If your heart has one thought, it is to love. It would give and receive itself everywhere it alights if you would but let it.

Your thoughts attempt to regulate your heart. Your little thoughts attempt to regulate the grand metronome of the universe! Your thoughts are little but not your heart. Your heart knows what it is about, and would that your mind would step aside.

There is room in life for analysis, but analysis is out of its element when it comes to the heart. The heart is the heart of life. In these terms, the mind is inconsequential. Hearts cannot be lined up in what the mind would call an orderly fashion. The heart has a will of its own, and it is Mine. The heart is not disorderly, as you perhaps have thought. Hearts just cannot line up in a row.

The mind ruffles objects in front of the heart, but the heart needs no object. The heart can plain love. It doesn't have to bounce off anything. It can love without distraction. It can just love. It doesn't have to go anywhere. It is simply a radiator of love. The heart's love does not have to be coaxed out. It does not have to be herded. Your heart just has to be allowed to be the heart it is.

If life were a race, your heart is winning. Why would you rein in your heart when a heart is meant to be free? Your heart can love without cost. It need not pay any penalties. Who are you to say who or what your heart should love when it would love and love and love and love you? Love is freely given, and is not to be tampered with nor can it be saved for later. Love is warm and is to be used right away while it is still fresh.