We should make decisions in life with our hearts, not our

"We should make decisions in life with our hearts, not our brains, not only in music but in daily life." Thus spoke André Rieu, the master of the violin whose bow draws not only sound but spirit from the strings. His words pierce us like an arrow of truth: that man is not merely a machine of thought, but a vessel of love, passion, and feeling. To choose with the brain alone is to walk through life like a traveler who knows the map but has never seen the beauty of the road. To choose with the heart is to live fully, to taste the sweetness of joy and the fire of meaning.

In the wisdom of the ancients, the heart was not merely a muscle that beat in the chest, but the very seat of the soul. The Egyptians weighed the heart against a feather to judge the worth of a man. The Hebrews proclaimed: As a man thinketh in his heart, so is he. And the Greeks, though they prized reason, knew that reason without passion is barren. Rieu’s counsel is no rejection of the brain, but a reminder that without the warmth of the heart, our choices become cold, efficient, and empty of humanity.

Consider the tale of Florence Nightingale, the “Lady with the Lamp.” Had she listened only to the voices of logic and society, she would have remained in comfort, obeying her family’s wish that she marry and live quietly. But her heart called her to the wounded, to the soldiers lying in agony in the Crimean War. She chose love over convention, compassion over calculation, and by following the voice within, she transformed the very practice of nursing. This is what it means to decide with the heart—to see life not merely as a series of gains and losses, but as a chance to pour forth meaning.

Even in the realm of music, this truth is eternal. A technically perfect performance played from the brain alone may impress, but it does not move the soul. It is when the musician plays from the heart that the listener is transported, weeping or rejoicing, as though the veil between worlds has been lifted. So it is in life: the perfection of reason may build walls, but only the fire of the heart builds bridges from one soul to another.

The lesson is plain: when faced with a choice, ask not only what is safe, what is profitable, or what is expected. Ask instead: What does my heart long for? What path fills me with courage, joy, and compassion? For though the brain may calculate, only the heart can reveal your truest destiny. A life lived by reason alone may be efficient, but a life lived by the heart becomes a song that others will remember.

Practical wisdom demands balance. This does not mean despising thought, but rather placing it in service of love. Let the brain be the servant, the craftsman who shapes the tools, but let the heart be the king, who sets the purpose and direction. When you love another, love with fullness. When you work, work not only for wages but for meaning. When you create, do so not for applause but for the joy of creation. In these ways, the heart leads, and the brain supports.

Therefore, children of tomorrow, take heed: life is too short to live as a prisoner of cold logic. Follow the pull of your heart, for it is the compass of the soul, pointing always toward the true north of your purpose. Let it guide your decisions, let it shape your life, and let it sing through your music—whether you hold an instrument, speak words of kindness, or simply live in love. For in the end, the choices made by the heart are the choices that echo in eternity.

So live not merely as thinkers, but as lovers of life. Choose with passion, act with courage, and let your heart be the eternal rhythm by which your days are guided. This is the wisdom of André Rieu, and the wisdom of the ancients: that only what is born of the heart truly lives.