We are well trained to hold back, to hide ourselves from the bright light of our true feelings. It takes courage to step into the light and own them, knowing the likelihood of another’s inability to do the same, and yet, with our willingness, we invite others to join us. Sometimes, all it takes is seeing another be courageous to start a landslide of love.
We are not trained to tell another, I love you. We think they might take it wrong, that they will think we want an intimate relationship or that they won’t love us back, that they don’t love us back. We worry about how we will be perceived, as needy, unlovable, and wanting. We doubt ourselves and others and doing so, we doubt love’s power, it’s purity.
When someone breaks all taboos and tells us we are loved, that they love us, we reverse the tables and worry they want something from us, that they don’t really want us or that we don’t really want them.
We’ve got so much stuff around love, that we don’t get on with it and simply love.
What would happen if we rolled the dice and said the words? What if we allowed ourselves to mean them and not worry about where the words would take us, what might happen if we did, if we were honest.
Love loves. It is the separate self who denies love, who fears love, who wants love. Love simply loves, loves the one we’re with, loves all, loves love, loves life, loves simply.
Maybe that’s what our world is begging for right now, our love, our open, no holds barred love, our willingness to look foolish for no reason other than its sake, our deep trust in it, so deep that we love regardless of doubt and fear, differences and ideas of right and wrong.
Love is the easiest thing in this world. We are made of it. We are it. Denying it breaks our hearts, wounds us deeply, wounds that are also made of love, for love is all that really is, love taking shape and form, as you, as me, as this world and the cosmos, as anything we can imagine. Whatever we do, wherever we go, there is love too.
I love you. I’ve always loved you and whether you know it or not, are willing to say it or not, you love me too. What we are is one big love fest.
There is no appropriate bio for Amaya Gayle. She doesn’t exist other than as an expression of Consciousness Itself. Talking about her in biographical terms is a disservice to the truth and to anyone who might be led to believe in such nonsense. None of us exist, not in the way we think. Ideas spring into words. Words flow onto paper and yet no one writes them. They simply appear fully formed. Looking at her you would swear this is a lie. She’s there after all, but honestly, she’s not. Bios normally wax on about accomplishments and beliefs, happenings in time and space. She has never accomplished anything, has no beliefs and like you was never born and will never die. Engage with Amaya at your own risk.
This is an advertisement
