The Head and the Heart

Humans are remarkable creatures. Created with both a mind and a heart, we possess the capacity to know and do things that once seemed unfathomable. We’ve left our bootprint on the moon, split the atom, and most importantly, found a way to have groceries bought and delivered without getting out of bed.

Our mind and heart make extraordinary human achievements possible, but contained within that possibility is a catch: the power to do remarkable good in the world also makes possible the power to commit remarkable atrocities. The same mind that split the atom has a heart that can choose to use that achievement to obliterate entire cities of people. When we detach our head from our heart, one of two things occurs: either we lose sight of what is true and good, or we lose the strength to choose it and succumb to our more base desires. This detachment is one of the causes of the many horrors we have created.

The idea that our mind and heart need to be connected for us to be constructive instead of destructive is a nugget of universal wisdom. Within the Benedictine wisdom tradition, it can be found in the first sentence of the Rule of Benedict, which states, “Listen carefully...to the master’s instructions, and attend to them with the ear of your heart.” Benedict sets out his bread crumb of living a life of wisdom and living a good life by making sure his followers have their head and heart attached before they begin the journey. It’s lesson number one: all head and no heart leads to doing things we think are good for us, but are not; and all heart and no head leads us to chasing our dreams only to achieve them and find out they didn’t help us but hurt us.

This is one reason why commitment to community is of vital importance to Benedictines. The community becomes the workshop where we work on living and loving with both our head and heart. If I’m faithful to the community, then the community provides me with the security and stability I need to look in the mirror with honesty and vulnerability at my own defects of character and become willing to work on them.

University study has been carved out for this very purpose: to provide a space in which emerging young adults are able to step out of the community workshop of their family to grow in maturity of mind, body, and spirit. Every year we send millions of 18-22 year olds to college with the idea that it’s helping them become an adult, a better person, and a person capable of living with their head and heart attached. But is that actually the case? I think it’s worth a look, particularly within the community of students who are athletes.

In my next post, I will look at the college athlete in light of Benedict’s criticism of the gyrovague: the type of monk who is without a stable community or rule to follow.