Love The Love

January 6, 2022

Sometimes we get filled with love, for no apparent reason. And why should there be a reason? It seems like love is all hung up on conditions, terms, and a busy mind’s ability to calculate if ‘this’ is worthy of love.

We have to leave that, and we do, and we can and we must.

Love objectivized and weaponized into fear of the object of our love will delude us and walk away, reasonless.

Love’s gone bitterly sour for many as years and experiences pass by, leaving some helpless, victimized and abandoned. Love never does that. If it does, it maybe wasn’t love as a state of mind, but it was love too humble or too afraid.
Was it clinging too sentimentally to the object of our attention? Love doesn’t cling – though it is the strongest of glue holding us together.

We have to find the room again and sometimes it shows as a state of mind.

We wake up one morning and love stirs up the promise of a somehow lighter day.

We awake and go silent, some in awe of that ‘new’ sensation ticking from toes up, for no apparent reason.

We can look into the eyes of the beloved and be reminded of the beauty in that soul, if somehow it got lost in the tic-toc of things.

We can look at whatever we put our love into yesterday and think: Well, I don’t want to go out of love and today it looks better than yesterday, and despite our longing for home, we attach again on a higher note.

We have to cut it loose, since the only thing that stands between us and the state of love is fear. Never again we shall fear, thus the fear in this world and of this world is embedded in past time hurt.

Reconcile, they whisper, the ancient ones. It’s not worth it, let it go, they chant.

The Christ, the metaphysical esoteric Jesus, loved with a spear in his side, thorns on his head, and nails through his limbs:

And we can’t love if the bills pile up? And we can’t love if the train isn’t on time? And we can’t love if we’re a target for far away laughter? And we can’t love if we feel victimized? And we can’t love if people don’t agree with us?

Forgiveness maybe is a bit misunderstood, since everybody tries but the results stay away in magnitude of numbers. I have a suggestion:

There is no reason to forgive anybody or anything, since the need for forgiveness comes from blame. If we don’t blame – we don’t have to forgive. If we don’t blame we don’t have to suffer the cliche of forgiving this and that and what have we.

Yet, some is unforgivable.
And maybe it needs to stay that way in order for karma to step in and do its job.

What on Earth is this place? This is heaven and this is hell.

We understand the concept of heaven confronted with hell. It sharpens our words and we might take the weight of the world on our shoulders and sometimes we rightfully do so, and sometimes we lose hope and strength.

We understand the concept of pure love, confronted with the hate in this world.

Love is woven in the fabric of strong backs and beating hearts, eyes that see, ears that hear. It’s a Death Metal band playing at the same venue as a Bach’s string quartet, and we have to listen for both for now.

Ghouls are coming out of the ground below our feet and angels are descending on mountains and rooftops. The urban angels are the toughest of all. The raging battles so often seen in the Morph are going mundane now, I see them gathering.

I see the dark shifted into even darker and I see the light responding accordingly.

Strange things are going to manifest now into even more evil both collectively and in our private lives. Suddenly almost an abrupt reinforcement of synchronicity will appear, and it will lead you into the dark or it will lead you to the battlefield of light.

A suitable armor is: Love for the love and stay in it, even feeling naive, doubtful, weak and bewildered.

Once you can hold onto it, love the world, love the flowers, love the animals, love the people, and hold on to that, the collective force of the spiritual warrior will amplify you a thousand times. And you can sit in the garden of Gethsemane and fear no Judas. The Via Dolorosa no more.

Under the Bougainvillea we will feast, drink our wine and shout to the setting suns:

We’re home again!

Resting in darkness lit up to the dimming light of distant cities burning in the horizon. “Look Mummy, the parliament is glowing like amber.”

© 2022 Soren Dreier – Services

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