We forget to ask - even ourselves
We don’t ask this question enough.
Not to others, not even to ourselves.
Most days, we check the time, the tasks, the notifications - but never the heart.
We forget that something inside us is always reacting,
always turning life into small signals - tension, calm, warmth, ache.
The heart keeps the most honest record of who we are,
even when we stop listening.
Taking a quiet look inside
So, how is your heart - really?
Is it heavy, or just quiet?
Does it feel like it’s waiting for something,
or like it finally exhaled?
You don’t have to give it a name.
You don’t have to explain it.
You just have to notice it.
That’s all the heart ever asks for - presence.
The heart changes every day
Some days, it feels open and curious - ready to trust again.
Other days, it feels like wet cement - slow, fragile, still trying to hold its shape.
There are mornings when it beats lightly, when you remember that joy can exist for no reason.
And there are nights when it feels mechanical - keeping you alive while you forget why that matters.
That’s what it means to be human.
The heart doesn’t move in straight lines.
It heals, then breaks a little, then heals again.
It grows tired, then hopeful, then quiet.
And all of that is normal.
Feeling everything and understanding nothing is still a kind of progress.
Maybe it doesn’t need answers
Maybe your heart isn’t looking for a breakthrough.
Maybe it just wants you to slow down,
to sit still, to notice that you’re still here.
Maybe you don’t need a new plan.
Maybe you just need a soft evening,
a gentle song, a moment of honesty -
to admit that you’re still learning how to carry yourself kindly.
So if no one has asked you lately -
how is your heart?
Take a second before you answer.
Let it speak in its own language.
It always knows more than your mind is ready to say.
🧡 this is public feelings
reporting live from the inside.