Love only is real

The one lesson my life has taught me above all, is Love. Nothing else matters.

When I'm not in love with anything - a person, an idea, a craft, an art, a purpose - life is a burden. Simple daily chores are insurmountable challenges, the act of breathing a labor. When I love nothing, I have no reason to change. Since Life has no status quo I cannot stay where I am; if I don't rise higher, I slide lower and lower.

Love gives me wings.

Years without love turns you to stone inside. Years of loneliness makes the loneliness your reality, which traps you. It is more important, vital, life-affirming to love than it is to be loved. Lack of love in one's heart is the secret of mediocrity. 

I like to think life works through complementary opposites. You know the meaning of water, for instance, when you're parched. Somebody who has had to walk through a desert, under a scorching sun, will know what even the mere sight of water at the end of the desert means to them. To know what something means to you, you must have lived without it first. No education is more intimate. And no person is more alive than the one who has something or someone to die for.

Love is what makes one throw the sheets off before dawn and jump out of bed, bright with anticipation and positive energy, impatient to start the day. Love conquers all limits. Love introduces you to a higher person who was hidden within you before, unsuspected. Love is a mirror in which you see clearly what you truly are. And what you see in love's mirror is stunningly different, better, higher than your wildest imagination about you. 

If you're not expressing love - for something or someone - you're lost. Your existence has no meaning, your living has no direction and no drive. Not only are you lost, but also dead inside. When you love you live, but only then. 

Love is the end of all search; the answer to all questions; the need behind all needs; the secret of all mysteries; the healer of all sickness; the correction of all mistakes; the motive behind all effort; the only freedom; the only power; our only strength; the only intelligence; the only beauty; the only light; the only comfort; the only goal; the only purpose; the only duty; the only law; the only rule; Life's only meaning; Life's only lesson; the only reality. Love is Life.

Who's responsible?

We are.

Once upon a time a teacher looked at a new group of disciples, as they gathered around him, and saw that in order to take their first real step towards wisdom, they had to understand one thing first of all.

In a calm, kind voice he spoke to them.

"Do you know what the beginning of wisdom is?"

The students looked at him with anticipation. What could it be?

"Wisdom begins with the realization," the master went on, "that none but each of us is individually responsible for their own individual life. Each makes themself happy or unhappy, not another. Each controls their mind, their body, their life. There is no power that controls us and our lives but us, no matter what we experience. We choose our life, our experience, no matter what. Nobody else can decide for us what becomes part of our personal consciousness. We. Control. Our. Own. Life."

The master's words caused a stir.

Instantly the students' minds were silently polarized. One group felt scared, depressed, defensive, sceptical. Teacher was obviously saying something unacceptable, because it's so obviously not true. So many experiences come to mind that we didn't choose for ourselves. Why would someone choose to be unhappy or poor or defrauded or living in squalor or being violated or killed for no fault of their own?!

Another group remained largely unmoved.

A few disciples, however, the bright, positive ones, were thrilled. We are in control of our lives?! We choose our happiness and unhappiness?! We control what we live, experience?! Their eyes welled up. Dearest teacher, how can we ever thank you for teaching us this lesson?!

If each of us controls everything in their personal experience, in their life, then life doesn't have to be mediocre! If it is we who control our own life, then we don't have to be unhappy; we can live our dreams; we don't have to be dull and bored and in pain!

These few bright faces turned brighter as they lit up with delighted smiles.

The teacher looked at all his disciples with the same equanimous, peaceful, impassive gaze, devoid of judgement, infinitely patient, knowing what each of them thought and felt. He knew that those who understood still had a lot to learn, and those who doubted or didn't comprehend would learn in their own good time. It was absolutely up to them. It was their choice and their choice alone. The master knew, above all, clear as crystal in sunshine, that beyond all appearances of imperfection they were all perfect within. He knew that beyond all appearances of ignorance, they knew just as well as him.

He knew that those who understood, would have to practice that truth until it completely transformed their attitudes, and that could take time. He knew that those who failed to perceive the meaning of his gift, would continue to live their conflicts with their own minds, with their ideas of injustice and helplessness, until they finally tired of doubting, until they finally tired of pretending to be helpless in their own imagination. He knew that they, and no other, controlled what they thought and lived.

He knew that his gift to them was to say the truth he had discovered in his own life, in his own way, by living up to his own highest sense of right. What they chose to do with the gift he had given them was entirely up to them. It was their choice. 

He knew what truly mattered. He knew that their true self and his, their true nature and his, lived beyond all appearances, already perfect. 

Voyager

    I've always been curious about the etymology of words. For me, it's a joy to explore the mysteries behind words' origins, as well as their meanings.

For instance, are the words 'journey' and 'journal' connected? Sounds to me like journal is record of a journey.

This journal has a journey of it's own, too. It reflects the sojourner's travels from ignorance to less ignorance, to the gradual, eventual dawning of wisdom, assuming life to be an undying hope for the discovery of meaning.

So here, then, is a record of an ongoing journey - in terms of the invaluable lessons it brought the sojourner - for whoever cares to lend their curiosity, on the outside chance of finding a little relevance or more in these pages.