The Emotional Dimension—the Heart. The Heart’s Central Importance in Human Life. The Influence of the Passions on the Heart

The aspect of feeling—the heart. Who does not know how great a significance our heart has in life? In the heart everything settles that enters the soul from without and that is worked out by its thinking and active aspects; through the heart, too, passes everything that the soul manifests outwardly. That is why it is called the center of life.

The heart’s work is to feel everything that pertains to our person. And it feels, constantly and unremittingly, the state of soul and body, as well as the various impressions made by particular actions of soul and body, by surrounding and encountered objects, by our outer situation and by the general course of life—pressing and compelling a person to bring it what is pleasant in all of this and to avert what is unpleasant. The health or ill health of the body, its liveliness or sluggishness, its fatigue or vigor, its alertness or drowsiness; then what has been seen, heard, touched, smelled, tasted; what has been remembered or imagined; what has been reflected upon and what is being reflected upon; what has been done, what is being done, and what remains to be done; what has been obtained and what is being obtained; what can be obtained and what cannot; what is favorable to us or unfavorable—whether persons or a concurrence of circumstances—all of this is reflected in the heart and excites it pleasantly or unpleasantly. Judging by this, it would seem that the heart could not be at peace for a single moment, but must be in unceasing agitation and anxiety, like a barometer before a storm. But it has grown accustomed, and much passes through it without leaving a trace—as you can verify from those cases when, the first time we are somewhere, everything engages us; but after the second or third visit—hardly anything.

Every impression upon the heart produces in it a particular feeling, but in our language there are no words to distinguish between them. We express our feelings in general terms: pleasant—unpleasant; it pleases—it displeases; joyful—tedious; joy—grief; sorrow—pleasure; peace—unease; vexation—contentment; fear—hope; antipathy—sympathy. Observe yourself and you will find that the heart passes now through one of these, now through another.

But the significance of the heart in the economy of our life is not only to suffer passively under impressions and to testify to the satisfactory or unsatisfactory state of our being—it is also to sustain the energy of all the powers of soul and body. See how quickly work is done that one enjoys, toward which the heart inclines! But before work toward which the heart does not incline, the hands drop and the feet will not move. That is why those who know how to govern themselves, when they encounter a necessary task that nevertheless does not please the heart, hasten to find some agreeable side to it and, having reconciled the heart to it by means of that, sustain within themselves the energy needed for the task. Zeal—the driving force of the will—proceeds from the heart. The same is true in mental work: a subject that has fallen upon the heart is reflected upon more eagerly and from every angle. Thoughts at such times swarm of themselves, and the labor, however long it may be, is no burden at all.

Not everything pleases everyone, and not everyone’s heart inclines equally to all things—in some the heart inclines more to one thing, in others more to another. This is expressed in the phrase: everyone has his own taste. This depends partly on natural predisposition, and partly—and no less so? — on first impressions, the impressions of upbringing, and the accidents of life. But however tastes come to be formed, they lead a person to arrange his life in such a way, and to surround himself with such objects and relationships, as his taste dictates and with which he is at peace, finding satisfaction in them. The satisfaction of the heart’s tastes gives him peace—a sweet peace—which constitutes for each person his own measure of happiness. Nothing disturbs one—and that is happiness.

If a person were always to hold to soundness of mind in the mental part, and to prudence in action, he would encounter in life the smallest possible share of chance occurrences unpleasant to the heart, and consequently would have the greatest possible share of happiness. But, as has been noted, the mental part rarely holds itself as it should, given over as it is to dreaming and distraction; and the active part deviates from its normal direction, swept along by inconstant desires excited not by the needs of nature but by extraneous passions. For this reason the heart has no peace, and while those aspects are in such a state it cannot have peace. The heart is most tyrannized by the passions. Were there no passions, there would certainly be unpleasantnesses, but they would never torment the heart as passions do. How anger burns the heart! How hatred tears at it! How malicious envy gnaws! What anxiety and torment the vainglory that is unsatisfied or put to shame causes! How grief crushes when pride suffers! And if we examine matters more strictly, we will find that all our anxieties and heartaches come from the passions. These evil passions, when they are satisfied, give joy—but brief joy; and when they are not satisfied but instead encounter the opposite, they cause prolonged and unbearable grief.

Thus it is evident that our heart truly is the root and center of life. Signaling the good or bad state of a person, it stirs the other powers to activity, and then receives back into itself the result of their activity, either strengthening or weakening the feeling by which the person’s state is determined. It would seem that full authority ought to be given to it over the governance of life as well—as indeed happens in the case of very many people completely, and in all others to some degree. It would seem so; and perhaps by nature it did indeed have precisely that vocation. But the passions entered in and muddied everything. Under their influence, our state is inaccurately indicated by the heart, the impressions are not what they ought to be, the tastes are perverted, and the stimulation of the other powers is directed in the wrong direction. Therefore the law now is to hold the heart in one’s hands and to subject its feelings, tastes, and impulses to strict scrutiny. When a person has been cleansed of the passions, let him give rein to the heart—but so long as the passions are in force, to give rein to the heart is plainly to condemn oneself to every manner of false step. Worst of all are those who make the heart’s pleasures and the enjoyment of life—as it is said—their very aim in life. Since fleshly and sensuous pleasures and enjoyments make themselves more vividly felt, such persons always sink into coarse sensuality and fall below the line that divides the human being from the rest of living creatures.

And so there you have the soul and soul-life from all its aspects! I was pointing out on purpose what ought naturally to be on each aspect and what ought not. And without any reminder from me, I see in you a readiness to follow the former and to avert the latter. And may the Lord bless this!