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So What’s with the Hearts?

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A few years ago, I started seeing hearts everywhere. Not just on the necklace I wore with three little silver hearts and not just dangling from my keychain.

Hearts exploded around the world—glass hearts in Venice, hearts on telephone poles in Amsterdam, and chocolate hearts in Brussels. Little girls had hearts on their shirts and on the barrettes in their hair; their grandmothers had antique heart brooches and hearts were embroidered into their purses. Hearts adorned the storefronts of boutiques in SoHo and were graffiti on the bodegas of Spanish Harlem.

They were also in the clouds, in the trees, in the shadows, in flower petals, in cut strawberries. It seemed that nature was in alignment with the people. (Or was it the other way around?)

Once I started looking, I saw them everywhere.

The heart is our spiritual, emotional, and moral core. The heart symbolizes love. And life. Our world is stamped in this symbol. A symbol that represents, demonstrates, decorates.

I realized that looking for hearts made me smile; it was a small bit of happiness and I took it. As I traveled, it evolved into a hobby—my own little sociological anthropological heart-ological study. Wherever I traveled, I saw them. Humans are obsessed with love and hearts brand it everywhere.

I turned my six-year-old son into looking for hearts. It made him look at life around us differently. He started to look more carefully at the trees, at the flower petals, at store windows, at signs. He wasn’t just passing life by—he was capturing every bit, relishing in the decorations all over our world. It seemed like such a happy thing.

One day maybe you will cut an apple open and notice the heart shaped formed by the pits. Maybe your phone cord will fall into the shape of a heart or you’ll see a heart with initials in it carved into a tree. Maybe you’ll smile. I say, pass it on.

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