The heart of Love...

There has been a lot written about the Love that God holds for us, and sometimes I feel it is redundant to write about it.  Why redundant?  As A Course in Miracles says, there was never a time when we knew it not.  It is always with us, Love.  There is never a time that we are apart from it.  There may be times when seemingly Love retreats from us, but this is a matter of perspective only, and perception is never the whole story.

Tonight is one of those nights when I can feel the
heart of Love beating within me.  It is not my heart, and yet it is... as always words fail to describe it.  It is never something that one can learn, which is why it is redundant to write about it.  I can say whatever I want about Love, but that never translates through the layers of filters that another carries with them.  It cannot leave my mouth without being translated through someone's idea of Love.  It is only Love, pure and simple, without second.  I wish I could show you.  I wish I could tell you where you would understand... right at the very center of you.

It is never found through an idea of Love, for all concepts have been, by definition, conceptualized.  It is only something that is felt... not at rare times either.  When you finally find out where it is, it is the easiest thing in the world to experience, because it is you.  It is never outside of you, although the symbols for Love are all around you.  It is the truest thing I can speak of, yet speaking of it cheapens the experience.  It is something I long to experience with another and simply say the words, "I know."  That is all that can be said.  It is seen in the shining eyes of someone else when all thought knowledge is melted into understanding.  The heart simply beats with it, and no words are necessary.

I have experienced this with another, and the experience is so beyond words that you stand, speechless, with each other, simply in the awareness of all that Love is and all that it is not.  Sex is beside the point.  Control is beside the point.  Jealousy has no place.  The only thing present is the absoluteness of the experience itself.  Nothing... not one thing... compares.  There is simply Love, fully born out, shining in the other person's eyes.  The only thing you want to do is somehow share it... share this thing, this experience... and all that suffices is an, "I know," and an, "I love you," that escapes your lips.  That is all that can be said.

I told someone the other day that Love, real Love, is non-specific.  It stems from the heart of Me... the real me... to everything.  Gratitude is the expression of it, and the gratitude is all-encompassing and wholly embracing to everything.  The magnificence of everything that I see is simply known.  It is not the tawdriness of a sort of self-generated feeling of "have to be thankful" that somehow suffices for gratitude in the society in which we live.  It is merely a beating heart of utter and complete thankfulness for life, for the experience of living. 

Tonight, it was the joy of the smell of the fresh rain mingled with lavender and the scent of spring flowers.  It was the comfort of knowing the surety of Love that is held for me, for my simple being... for my simple aliveness.  I felt it for everything, and everything felt it for me.  It was the gratitude for the movie that I watched in which I saw such Truth.  It was the feeling of my own being at the center of me, and how that Who I Am is sufficient to heal everything I see, bless everything I see, Love everything I see.  If this seems like a lot of gobbltey-gook... it is... there is no way to describe the experience.  To try to describe it simply seems tawdry in and of itself... wonderful word tawdry... it conveys so much.

It is our inheritance, this Love.  There is nothing that you can do to destroy it.  There is nothing you can do to earn it.  There is nothing that can remove you from it.  There is no place to hide, ultimately, from it.  Bury yourself in guilt, surround yourself in misery, cover your head with ashes and wallow in sackcloth, but it is still there waiting for you to simply acknowledge that you are it.  There was never a time when you knew it not.  There will never be a time when you will not be it.  You cannot hide, for reality doesn't give a shit about illusions, and your reality is Love... pure and simple... the simplest of the simple... the base of everything that you are and not any of what you think you are.  You cannot think about it... it has nothing to do with analysis.  It is merely an experiencing of all that you are.

So be still for one minute.  Be absolutely still.  Drop all that you think spirituality is.  Drop all that you think God wants you to be.  Drop all the cheap lies and dirty little secrets that you are not good enough, that you are not holy enough, that God could have anything other than utter and complete gratitude for you and all that you represent, and that you are not worthy of Him.  It doesn't do any good in the end.  You can't deny what you are forever... the one thing you cannot do is make yourself into something that you are not.  Nor would you ever want to.  What you are is too beautiful for words, it is too magnificent for thinking, it is way beyond every concept you ever held of you.  If you looked at you as God looks at you, no words would ever be needed, and your heart would break open with joy leaving only one thing... and that is Love.