Love is the shadow of the Infinite. Even worldly love.
Only when the mind is silent can love flower.
"Love wants to renounce everything, while the mind wants to possess everything."
"Love has great patience, but it has a limit. After that limit is crossed, love departs."
"Love never wants to enjoy. The mind wants to enjoy everything."
In strengthening the mind through enjoyment, love is slowly strangled away.
The child is born loving, its love must be protected and nourished, by the ones close to it. The adult must protect one's love oneself.
If your love has died, you are already dead. If it is close to death, take heed. Nurture it, nourish it, be extremely careful.
The love of the mind is fickle and superficial. The love which is not of the mind is constant and deep.
"Love is afraid of hurting the beloved."
Love cries not for one's own pain. It suffers silently. It cries for the beloved and his suffering.
The tears which the mind brings to one's eyes are the tears of pretence. Those tears derive their essence from a sentimental thought or memory. Those tears must be exhibited, or talked about, or used to exalt oneself. Love, on the other hand, cries silently, in solitude, in complete oblivion.
Love cares not for exhibition. Love does not need to be expressed. This is the deep secret of love.
To try to express love is to have an inner agenda.
To reject and to ridicule love in another is to inflict a deep gash on the love in oneself.
The love of the mind is based on imagery and dreaming. It builds a dream world. When that dream is shattered by the force of reality, the mind cries out, "Where, where has the love vanished?" What must be realized is that it was not there from the beginning. That love was an illusion.
Love is open, vulnerable and sensitive. This openness does not mean a propensity to do everything the beloved says. This openness means having no blocks to love within oneself.
Is it love if one cares about how one looks, how ugly or beautiful one's face or body is, how rich or poor one is? Is it love when all these matter to the other?
Oh God, oh God! The beauty of Thy Love is unsurpassed. Only you can disregard all my human foibles, my imperfections, my petty crimes, and call me as a mother calls her errant child.
Love and the abandonment of self-concern is the gateway to Nirvana.
Love, and be thankful that you have been blessed with it.
The love which is seen in the soft wetness of one's eyes, in the affection inherent in one's gestures, in one's melting postures, in the sweet mellowness of one's words, in the lightness of one's body and spirit: remember that there is a secret behind that love. Do not destroy that secret.
The so-called romantic love is a need for the ego to affirm itself and feel cherished and wanted; it is exclusive, possessive and needs constant expression and validation.
(to be continued)