Everything is easy with love. What can be hard when your heart soars with
love? What is love but light, and what is light but energy? Smooth is the power
of love. Love is an engine that runs smoothly, or love is the fuel that runs the
engine of your heart. Love feeds the heart, there is no doubt of that.
Love is not effort. When filled with love, hearts are light-hearted. There
have been many odes written to love, and not one says it all. There is always
more to be said about love because love is not finite.
Love is the fuel you run on. Without love, there would be no creation.
Although I had the thought or impulse to create the world, it was My love that
created it. The world was made from love, and it was made of love. You are love.
I created your love with the fullness of My love. I didn’t make you half-love,
for I created you with a full heart. I didn’t think and think and rethink you. I
did not craft you, as it were. You came from My heart. Made of My love, you are
love, and you are My love. No matter how far from love you may have detoured,
love is not absent. It can be reawakened. Loving yourself is a beginning. Loving
yourself is not conceit. Loving yourself is recognition of what you are made of.
You are made of love. You are made solidly of love for the purpose of loving.
Simple and complete are you, My love. Unburden yourself of what has kept you
from love. Your thoughts. Your thoughts have masked love. Your thoughts have
taken bites out of your love.
You cut off your love. You chopped it up. You put love into categories and
subsections. You formalized love. You logicalized it. You mechanized it. You
made varied packages of it. You held love by a thread. You washed and dried
love. You splintered it. You made an automat of love. Love became played like a
Love cannot be packaged. Love streams. It can’t be bottled. It cannot be on
demand. Love arises of itself. That is what love loves to do, to simply arise
from the fount of your heart and be itself. No mandates for love. No pressing it
down. No prescribing for it. You do not know better than love. Love knows better
than you. You don’t know the half of love.
Love is like snow falling, so gracefully, serenely, gladly. You cannot make
it snow. The difference between love and snow is that there are conditions for
snow. The temperature has to be such and so. But snow and love are alike in that
you cannot stop the snow on command, and when it comes to love, why on Earth
would you want to stop it? Because of some idea, I suppose.
Personal love is love partitioned. You have checkpoints for personal love, as
though you were crossing a border. Of course, without love, you are bordered.
With love, there are no borders. Grab a hold of universal love. Recognize it.
Get a sense of love without boundaries. How easy it is to cross boundaries when
there aren’t any.
Love your child, and love all children.
Love the land you were born in, and love all lands.
Love your family, and love all families.
Love your loved ones, and love all as though they were yourself. They are
yourself. That’s the tricky part, for until you love yourself more, you do not
love your neighbors very well. You don’t even know them. You make up things
about them. You may prefer to dislike them as you dislike yourself. When you
love yourself, your heart holds room for all.