Love is not an emotion, it’s not a though. It’s an encounter with a reality that vertically dissects our horizontal room and time. When we are in love we really are inside of it, just like we are inside a room. We get in through the smiling eyes of an authentic, vulnerable, imperfect other. And from the inside of love we look out and see the other as a whole, the broken, lost and self-destructive hurricane and the overflowing garden of warmth and care, all united in one imperfect soul, that doesn’t have to be anything, and already is everything.
The way to and the way from love are one and the same , namely meeting a soul in the sacred place of acceptance and through the gazing eyes of judgeless bewonderment.
Love is not in the other, neither it is in us. We are in it and we see each other through it, as we are, as we are ment to be. It’s the perspective we take, not an illusion, not a pair of tinted glasses, but a grasp of how we were supposed to see. It’s a place from which we can see each other and it’s a place in which we can meet one another as imperfect beings. It’s a place, we cannot create, we cannot force it upon us, we cannot drag each other with us to get there. We cannot get there at all, because it’s nowhere to be found. It is already here, at the core of our existence at the centre of our reality. Thats why we have to let go and fall into it.