The Cœur

^{/ (kɜː, French kœr) /}

(sounds like cour-age or con-quer)

noun

1. The Heart

—A letter from

THE HEART

In journalism, one of the first things they teach you (well, it was one of the first things I had learned on the job — I never actually studied journalism in school) are the five W’s: Who? What? Where? When? Why? When you have the answers to these questions, chances are you’ll have solid story. You’re good.

In life, when the “who” of the story is you, it’s a lot less straightforward. Where does my story truly begin? What do I do with all the “whats” that happen to me? When will I finally be happy? Why me? Who am I? Not who they say I am, not who I think I should be, but really, WHO AM I?

I have been asking this question (which I am quite convinced may be the whole point of this life) for as long as I can remember — long before I had the awareness of asking it and searching for answers with consciousness and intention: In all the times I felt like I didn’t belong. In the times I felt misunderstood. In situations when I felt life might be better if I pretended to be something else, someone else — and did, stupidly.

In all the bad choices I made because I didn’t know better, or because I did not yet see that I deserve better. In spaces where I succumbed to shrinking into a tiny ball of insignificance in order to fit in or be invisible. All those times I said “yes” in fear and apprehension that I’d become a “no” in the eyes of others, whoever they were. All those years I stayed when I should have left, quit when I should have persevered. Those times I smiled only for the benefit of others — because it was the “right” way to be, the “right” thing to do. In the various ways I had betrayed my self, been untrue. WHO WAS I? I would continue my quest through my fight with depression. Through my journey of self re-discovery and recovery. WHO WAS I in all these chapters and anecdotes of my life? I don’t think I will ever stop asking until the day I exit this life. WHO AM I now — today, this moment as I’m typing these words?

What I have learned is this: There isn’t one answer. Or a right answer. We change, we grow, we learn and we unlearn. We move forward and make progress, and then we fall backwards, and that’s progress, too — if that’s the story you choose to tell yourself. If you really think about it, falling a few steps behind today still puts you ahead of where you were a year ago. Progress.

We are each one of us the author of our own unique life. This is our story to write and to tell. And every page is a fresh beginning. Every line is a new beginning.

“I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me. My story is not a pleasant one; it is neither sweet nor harmonious, as invented stories are; it has the taste of nonsense and chaos, of madness and dreams—like the lives of all men who stop deceiving themselves.

Each man’s life represents a road toward himself, an attempt at such a road, the intimation of a path. No man has ever been entirely and completely himself. Yet each one strives to become that—one in an awkward, the other in a more intelligent way, each as best he can…

We all share the same origin, our mothers; all of us come in at the same door. But each of us—experiments of the depths—strives toward his own destiny. We can understand one another; but each of us is able to interpret himself to himself alone.”

This is an excerpt from Demian, one of my all-time favourite books by one of my favourite authors, Hermann Hesse. I go back to it whenever my days and perspective feel off kilter. His words never fail to fix my spiritual and philosophical misalignments, like a chiropractor for the heart, mind and soul.

Words are powerful. Stories are powerful. The words and stories of others have taught me to think and feel deeply and honestly, fearlessly even, about my own work-in-progress—my life. They have also inspired me to encourage and empower others to do the same. The Cœur, which means The Heart in French, is a project dedicated to the LOVE of our SELF. Life begins when we begin to love and value our selves. No one can do it for us. No one can do it better than us. To be fair, how can we demand that our parents and siblings and best friends and boy/girlfriends and husbands and wives and children love us on our behalf? And to love our selves, we must first get to know our selves.

It’s not an easy thing. It takes work and practice — every day. It’s a journey. But I do believe it is easier — and quite powerful — when we realise we’re not going it alone. It is my wish and intention that the collection of stories told here by the beautiful humans who somehow — by serendipity and the Universe’s conspiracy — show up in this space will offer you solace, hope, courage, inspiration, new ideas and perspective, a source of light and a few practical tools for your own adventure of self-discovery and SELF-LOVE, especially on days when you feel unseen, less-than, and like you don’t matter (never true). May the words you find here be a rainbow in your cloud, a friend, a warm hug and a fortress of fluffy white pillows whenever you need it.

“What invigorated me was the PROGRESS I had made in discovering my self, the increasing CONFIDENCE in my own DREAMS, thoughts, and intimations, and the growing knowledge of the power I possess WITHIN ME.”

— Hermann Hesse

Love,

A Letter From The Heart

In journalism, one of the first things they teach you (well, it was one of the first things I had learned on the job — I never actually studied journalism in school) are the five W’s: Who? What? Where? When? Why? When you have the answers to these questions, chances are you’ll have solid story. You’re good.

In life, when the “who” of the story is you, it’s a lot less straightforward. Where does my story truly begin? What do I do with all the “whats” that happen to me? When will I finally be happy? Why me? Who am I? Not who they say I am, not who I think I should be, but really, WHO AM I?

I have been asking this question (which I am quite convinced may be the whole point of this life) for as long as I can remember — long before I had the awareness of asking it and searching for answers with consciousness and intention: In all the times I felt like I didn’t belong. In the times I felt misunderstood. In situations when I felt life might be better if I pretended to be something else, someone else — and did, stupidly.

In all the bad choices I made because I didn’t know better, or because I did not yet see that I deserve better. In spaces where I succumbed to shrinking into a tiny ball of insignificance in order to fit in or be invisible. All those times I said “yes” in fear and apprehension that I’d become a “no” in the eyes of others, whoever they were. All those years I stayed when I should have left, quit when I should have persevered. Those times I smiled only for the benefit of others — because it was the “right” way to be, the “right” thing to do. In the various ways I had betrayed my self, been untrue. WHO WAS I? I would continue my quest through my fight with depression. Through my journey of self re-discovery and recovery. WHO WAS I in all these chapters and anecdotes of my life? I don’t think I will ever stop asking until the day I exit this life. WHO AM I now — today, this moment as I’m typing these words?

What I have learned is this: There isn’t one answer. Or a right answer. We change, we grow, we learn and we unlearn. We move forward and make progress, and then we fall backwards, and that’s progress, too — if that’s the story you choose to tell yourself. If you really think about it, falling a few steps behind today still puts you ahead of where you were a year ago. Progress.

We are each one of us the author of our own unique life. This is our story to write and to tell. And every page is a fresh beginning. Every line is a new beginning.

“I have begun to listen to the teachings my blood whispers to me. My story is not a pleasant one; it is neither sweet nor harmonious, as invented stories are; it has the taste of nonsense and chaos, of madness and dreams—like the lives of all men who stop deceiving themselves.

Each man’s life represents a road toward himself, an attempt at such a road, the intimation of a path. No man has ever been entirely and completely himself. Yet each one strives to become that—one in an awkward, the other in a more intelligent way, each as best he can…

We all share the same origin, our mothers; all of us come in at the same door. But each of us—experiments of the depths—strives toward his own destiny. We can understand one another; but each of us is able to interpret himself to himself alone.”

This is an excerpt from Demian, one of my all-time favourite books by one of my favourite authors, Hermann Hesse. I go back to it whenever my days and perspective feel off kilter. His words never fail to fix my spiritual and philosophical misalignments, like a chiropractor for the heart, mind and soul.

Words are powerful. Stories are powerful. The words and stories of others have taught me to think and feel deeply and honestly, fearlessly even, about my own work-in-progress—my life. They have also inspired me to encourage and empower others to do the same. The Cœur, which means The Heart in French, is a project dedicated to the LOVE of our SELF. Life begins when we begin to love and value our selves. No one can do it for us. No one can do it better than us. To be fair, how can we demand that our parents and siblings and best friends and boy/girlfriends and husbands and wives and children love us on our behalf? And to love our selves, we must first get to know our selves.

It’s not an easy thing. It takes work and practice — every day. It’s a journey. But I do believe it is easier — and quite powerful — when we realise we’re not going it alone. It is my wish and intention that the collection of stories told here by the beautiful humans who somehow — by serendipity and the Universe’s conspiracy — show up in this space will offer you solace, hope, courage, inspiration, new ideas and perspective, a source of light and a few practical tools for your own adventure of self-discovery and SELF-LOVE, especially on days when you feel unseen, less-than, and like you don’t matter (never true). May the words you find here be a rainbow in your cloud, a friend, a warm hug and a fortress of fluffy white pillows whenever you need it.

“What invigorated me was the PROGRESS I had made in discovering my self, the increasing CONFIDENCE in my own DREAMS, thoughts, and intimations, and the growing knowledge of the power I possess WITHIN ME.”

— Hermann Hesse

Love,