True love knows no bounds. On the other hand, bounded love is love ensnarled, enslaved, trimmed, lobbed, cut off. True love is not like fingernails that you pare. True love does not ration itself. True love is rather like a balloon rising, rising. True love is unattached. It does not attach nor does it gauge. It is given without quarter. There is no charge for it. Recompense is not asked for. Love itself freed is recompense enough.
Love hires no accountants, no sentries. Love requires no accounting. Love is like an artist who paints as he paints. His painting is free to be what it is. There is no tampering or hampering with love any more than there is with art. Love and art are more than analysis. Love and art are not mechanized.
Love sets sail with its flag flying. It sails along an uncharted sea. For the love of sailing, love sets sail. And love takes its course across the uncharted seas.
Loving is enough. Love does not wind up somewhere. It continues. When it reaches land, love continues to sail.
Love ventures, and love abides. Through all kinds of weather, love abides. Love lets go, and everything follows it, so mighty is the power of love. So mighty is the power of love that it runs on its own steam. It takes no energy at all. Effortless is love, for love is natural. It is because of love that a dandelion makes its way through cracks. It is love that makes a humble dandelion reach for the sun.
All love is reaching for Me. Everyone and everything wants to reach Me, and love boosts you higher. The heights of love lift you higher. Love stands on your shoulders and reaches to the heights where all is love and you ride through the waves of love. Where is there to rise to except where love is? What do you think Heaven is? Heaven is where your love comes from and where your love is. Heaven is your natural state. Take the elevator up.
All that is needed for this rise is to get rid of the ballast that has held you down. All the ballast is the weight of the past, past thoughts, conclusions about what is called the past, false conclusions about the past and false conclusions about what is called the future. I suppose We must also add false conclusions about the present as you fly through it. You try to catch hold of that which cannot be held onto. The bongos of time have you in their thrall, and so you measure the bounty of natural love in your heart. You want to sew it up. Even when you know better, you still like the idea of love sewn in place. When you try to sew love in place, you squelch it.
Love is not an answer. Of course, it is the only answer there is, and yet love is not to be sought as an answer. The object of love is to love. There is no other gain but to love. Love is not an accumulation of merit badges. It is a giving. It gives solace to all concerned.
Consider love a path and go down it. Let love be the name of the street you go down. Of course, love is the only path to go down. All other paths are one way or dead-ends. All other paths leave you at the brink. They are false paths, trick paths. You have gone down them. And every time, even when you despair of enough love in your heart, you are left with no other path to go down but the path of love — no other path to go down worth its salt, that is.
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