❤️ Heartbeat of life

Why our brain, like the heart, needs rhythm

Sometimes I think we humans have forgotten how a heart beats. Not literally—but symbolically. We've started living as if the pause between beats is superfluous. We fill every moment with stimuli, obligations, and sounds. And precisely because of that, we lose something our ancestors knew naturally: the natural cadence of living, feeling, and connecting.

In my work as a coach, I see it everywhere: people who aren't broken, but out of rhythm. They breathe too fast, think too much, and rest too little. And when your body is constantly "on," your brain can no longer "tune in." Because just like the heart, the brain needs a rhythm—periods of activity and rest, tension and relaxation, effort and surrender.

The silence between two strokes

Our ancestors lived in a world where that rhythm was self-evident. They worked with their hands, listened to the seasons, and knew the moment of rest between harvest and winter. Their days were guided by light and dark, not by deadlines and screen time. In that world, life still flowed to the rhythm of nature: active during the day, tranquil in the evening, and restorative at night. They didn't have to do breathing exercises—their lifestyle was breathing.

Neuroscience now shows just how healthy that was. Our brains function best in cycles: the Default Mode Network (DMN) becomes active when we daydream or pause for a moment—precisely the moment when creativity, insight, and self-reflection arise (Raichle, 2015). In contrast, the Frontoparietal Network (FPN) is used for focus and goal-oriented work. The Salience Network (SN)—the conductor that determines whether we accelerate or decelerate—interacts between these two networks (Beaty et al., 2019).

Without rest in the system, the conductor becomes overloaded. And that then feels like we're living out of sync: tired, restless, disconnected from ourselves.

The rediscovery of a rhythm

When I first read The Artist's Way (Cameron, 1992), I recognized something I already knew intuitively: creativity isn't a gift, but a rhythm. Her Morning Pages—daily intuitive writing—are essentially the brain's breathing: a moment of release, reflection, and reset.

In NLP terms (Bandler & Grinder, 1975), this is a way to reprogram the internal representational system. By writing down thoughts without inhibition, you make unconscious beliefs visible. You reframe them, allowing new neural connections to form. Cameron called it spiritual recovery—I call it neurological recovery:

the conscious choice to make room for the silence between two heartbeats.

The rhythm of growth

American psychologist Clare W. Graves (1970) described human development as a spiral: a continuous process of adaptation to changing circumstances. Each stage has its own values—from survival, through order and achievement, to cooperation and integration.

Today we find ourselves in a societal transition from performance to connection.

This calls for a different pace. Where we once primarily had to produce, people now yearn for meaning. From Graves' perspective, this is a natural evolution: the human heartbeat shifts from tension to relaxation, from doing to being.

But as with the heart, this transition can only occur if both phases alternate.

Too much relaxation leads to stagnation; too much tension leads to overexertion. The secret lies in the balance.

The brain needs rhythm

Our brains are rhythmic organs. They don't function in a straight line, but in wave patterns of electrical activity. Each wave has a function:

• Beta for focus and action,

• Alpha for calmness and creativity,

• Theta for reflection and access to the unconscious,

• Delta for recovery during deep sleep.

When we remain in Beta mode continuously—as with constant stress and digital overstimulation—we lose access to the other wave layers. The result? Decreased concentration, emotional overreaction, and loss of creative potential. Our ancestors naturally moved through these waves. They knew that a day required not only work but also rest; that silence wasn't emptiness, but nourishment.

The heartbeat as a compass for life

Restoring rhythm begins with listening. Listening to your body, to the moment, to the other person. Even in coaching, I see it as my job to help someone rediscover their rhythm: when is it time to act, and when is it time to breathe? How do we relearn this—through breathing, journaling, movement, and meaningful pauses.

Like a heart, life doesn't beat in a single note, but in flux. Power lies not in continuous performance, but in the pause that makes each beat possible. This applies to people, but equally to organizations and societies. When, as a society, we value only output, we forget that growth arises in the in-between—in reflection, play, rest, and connection.

What our ancestors still knew

Perhaps that's what I admire most about the generations before us: their ability to wait. They knew that not everything was manageable. That some things take time—like a seed, a relationship, or an idea. Today, we live in an age that sees pause as weakness.

And those who learn to endure the silence hear something special: their own heartbeat. And that sound—that soft, rhythmic pulse—is perhaps the oldest form of trust we know.

Final Thought

Progress has brought us much: medical knowledge, freedom, technology. And some things deserve to be preserved—not out of nostalgia, but as a neurologically necessary foundation. What worked for our ancestors still works:

· Repetition and routine calm the nervous system (Siegel, 2012).

· Working with your hands helps you calm your mind and feel what's happening in your body (Bud Craig, Lisa Feldman Barrett, Shaun Gallagher, Pat Ogden, and Jon Kabat-Zinn)

Silence and boredom activate the Default Mode Network and promote creativity. Raichle, M.E. (2015).

· Community and rituals enhance prefrontal regulation of stress (Davidson, 2021).

It's precisely these ingredients that are returning in coaching, therapy, and training—often with a modern twist. We call it journaling, breathwork, sabbaticals, mindfulness. But essentially, we're rediscovering what our ancestors already lived:

That rest is not a luxury, but a prerequisite for consciousness.

Sources

· Bandler, R., & Grinder, J. (1975). The Structure of Magic I. Science and Behavior Books.

· Beaty, R. E., Benedek, M., Silvia, P. J., & Schacter, D. L. (2019). Creative Cognition and Brain Network Dynamics. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 23(10), 850–862.

· Cameron, J. (1992). The Artist's Way. Tarcher/Putnam.

· Graves, C.W. (1970). Levels of Human Existence. Journal of Humanistic Psychology, 10(2), 131–155.

· Raichle, M.E. (2015). The Brain's Default Mode Network. Annual Review of Neuroscience, 38, 433–447.