Love: The guide and purpose of our Being

It can be love in any form of course. Love towards a person. Love towards a person who is family. Love towards yourself. Love towards a goal or purpose that is important to you. Love is simply the force that propels you towards your destiny. It comes to you when you need it. Sometimes it is acceptable and understandable to you and society at large and hence it is largely peaceful. Or sometimes it comes to you in ways you don’t understand nor does society.

But love doesn’t care.

It is simply an ageless and timeless entity that does not give a thought to frivolities such as human conventions.It just flows in where there is a need.Thereby prompting people to move across oceans, to sacrifice everything they have, to propagate humanity, to nurture humanity, to instigate wars, to cause revolutions or simply to help mankind evolve, one person at a time.

It need not be healthy love even. But maybe that simply means it has come to us to teach us a lesson that will help us progress in our life’s journey. Or sometimes it’s for us to help another progress in their destiny. Rest assured you do have a destiny. Call it destiny or spiritual journey or any other name.Not in the narrow ignorant way that we humans understand it. But in a glorious magnanimous way that am sure in due course we will understand thanks to the development mankind is making in leaps and bounds.And am sure you will agree, both are no little forces to reckon with. Both love and destiny.

I remember writing a post earlier about redefining our definition of love.https://wp.me/p4xF2G-T

But now I understand. That deep intuitive understanding even the most untuned of us is bound to feel at some point in our lives.You can’t define love. It’s simply so limitless. But rest assured the presence or absence of it defines every move we as human beings make in our lives. As great authors have written, even hate is misguided love, is it not? Then what about apathy? Even that is absence of…love.

All said, this is just the opinion of the tiniest speck in a vast, infinite universe, who simply felt she must write this. Maybe it’s all just whimsical fantasy? How silly would it all be then.

Pensive,

Rosepens

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