Two hearts...

I read somewhere once, I don't remember when, that women have two hearts - their own and that of their unborn child. But I imagine, whether pregnant or not, women have two hearts, one that beats for them and one that beats for another. Sometimes they beat in unison doubling the woman's passion for life and love, at other times the separately beating hearts, disturb and disrupt the organism like a screeching bird that creates a sound that pierces the universe.

Some believe that a woman has two hearts, one that resides in her chest, the other in her vagina, one that is touched touches the other and they cannot separate the love of one from the love produced by the other. All of self in these two hearts.

What is this essential self that we are being? Isn't this self continuously shifting, changing, and metamorphosing into something else? Is it not continually under construction and in danger always of collapsing, depending upon the circumstances? Not only that, but doesn't this self that we are being, threaten the so called self of the other, exposing them also to risk or harm in the very collapse of our own fragile modulation. Can we really be said to have a self at all if it cannot be anchored either within our body or indeed in any space? What then is this self?

I wrote this some time ago but revisited it this morning. This self, the sum total of all our experiences particular only to us, exclusive, ourselves, residing within us and yet nowhere that can be absolutely located, continues to accumulate and is in a sense extruded with all that we make or create and all that we think and pass on through our two hearts.