Literature is full of references to speaking from the heart. Mystics, philosophers and religious leaders have all referenced for millennia the importance of linking our words to that which we deeply value; to that which is core to our being.
We call this being authentic. It's about being true to your dreams and your ideals when you invoke declarations that call the future into being. All of this is thought of as merely an act of communication. What if it were more? What if there was a biological link that the ancient sages drew upon that makes "speaking from the heart" more than an aphorism?
The heart and tongue muscles are the same in their physical makeup. Our ancestors noted this when consuming game. Both were held out as prized pieces of the kill. Embryologists long ago documented what occurs developmentally as the fetus matures over time. The heart is the first organ to form (it is beating by the 23rd day); immediately following is the development of the mouth and tongue (by the 28th day). Tellingly, the tongue develops directly from cells that come from the heart. Both are inordinately endowed with strength - the tongue is the strongest muscle in the body and the heart is capable of feats of stamina that are truly awe inspiring.
When we lose (or forget about) this connection our lives are impoverished. We sacrifice our heart's desires by not speaking our truth. Truly, in today's fast paced world with all of its distractions, temptation and demands we risk much when we allow our heart to lose its voice.
My heart and tongue were twins at once conceived,
Th'eldest was my heart, born dumb by Destiny,
The last my tongue, of all sweet thoughts bereaved:
Yet strung and tun'd to play heart's harmony.
Both knit in one and yet asunder placed:
What heart would speak the tongue doth still discover.
What tongue doth speak is of the heart embraced,
And both are one to make a new found lover
New found, and only found in gods and kings,
Whose words are deeds, but words nor deeds regarded.
Chaste thoughts do mount and fly with swiftest wings,
My love with pain, my pain with loss rewarded.Then this be sure, since it is true perfection,That neither men nor gods can force affection.
