Beloved, whatever happens in your life, refrain from assigning it a name. Often you make assumptions. You might wake up one morning and suddenly feel sad, even finding yourself crying, and you really don’t know why. You don’t understand why and why now? You didn’t know you had buried so much sadness. You hadn’t realized you were still carrying it around with you. You see no point in bothering to think of it now. Alas, it never really did amount to anything. Or, in fact, it broke your heart, and you have never fully recovered from it.
It hadn’t sunk into you that you had run out of love until just now. There had been a time or two when you thought you had loved deeply. Then one morning, here you are, waking up feeling no love at all, perhaps just brief snatches of love that are vague or impossible or even, in the best of times, may not have been worth speaking of.
This morning, the absence of love in your heart hangs heavily on you. There is no reclaimed happiness in the past to find now. There are no sketches of the past in your heart. “Why not?” you almost beg. Then, in the next moment: “Good riddance,” you say to yourself.
You are sorry to confess that the big loves you once thought were yours were unrequited.
You don’t recall that you had unrequited anyone’s love, not that you can think of, not anyone who would wake up years later and think of you, and what do you care now anyway? At best, the loves you once held were passing fancies and no more than that.
No wonder you are sad. All the love you once thought you knew turned cold. Warm embers no longer exist. Somehow, cold water has been poured over them. Once you had the illusion that you loved and cared about love. Now, no ghosts remain.
What do you care? Despite the depth you once had held these dribbles of love in, now you see clearly that they really were nothing at all to write home about, certainly nothing at all to wake up to thinking about a thousand or more years later, more or less.
It’s clear to you that lost loves held no real meaning then and less now.
Beloved, it is My desire to tell you that, despite what you may or may not feel, you are not poor in love. Love you once felt or thought you felt never was so specific as you thought or as you had wanted.
There is no way you have to feel or not to feel. No one said you had to look back and sift your fingers through the ashes. You don’t have to feel sad or glad or anything at all. Label nothing.
You do not have to identify anything. There is no requirement to make something of the past or not to make something of the past.
So, you feel distant from your life. You may have made too much of it at one time.
Your life, no matter how you perceive it, is not your God. And so-called time has nothing to do with Oneness.
You have been walking through rooms you once thought you lived in. You were a passerby.
You are aloft now. You are not of the past. You are Soul. Anything less than Soul isn’t worth the time of day. Your life is not yours to weigh. Has the intellect taken over your heart these days? What for? To cause you ersatz woe?
Go back to sleep then. We will talk anon, you and I, and you will re-awaken to love.
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