Eternal Being

Those we see, those we grow up beside, those for whom love is born simply through the texture of shared days—one day they leave us. And when that day comes, when we realize we shall never meet them again in this life, we are seized by such anguish! This cry of the heart for love—if we could not pour that love into another soul, if life offered us no one else to love, could we endure the torment of separation from the beloved? Could we even survive?

Love is an eternal essence. It has no birth, no death. Since the beginning of creation until now, the total measure of love in this world remains unchanged. It is our hearts, our consciousness, that receive love or turn away from it. When love awakens in us, we are merely awakening what already lay dormant there. When someone leaves our life, that love returns to its sleeping state. The arrival of another can rouse it again. Or perhaps no new soul enters our days, yet the love we held for one already gone can grow manifold. We often see it: after a husband's untimely death, a mother's love for her child becomes fiercer than before. After losing a child, a mother clings more desperately to those around her. Deprived of anyone to love, a person descends into madness. Yet sadder still than one who receives no love is the soul incapable of loving.

Love does not perish—only transfers. When love falls asleep, we convince ourselves: "I have lost my capacity to love. Never again can I love as I did. No one will ever stir my heart again. How can I live in such lovelessness?" But this is not the truth. Love cannot be contained in the frame of two, or any number. Unaware, our love migrates from one soul to another. The reawakening of love in our hearts is a perfectly ordinary psychological phenomenon.

From this transfer of love, our hearts undergo profound change. We begin to believe: Yes, this person is exactly as I wished them to be. Or: The one who departed has returned to me in this one. Or: Never has anyone loved me as tenderly. Or: I shall keep my love alive within this new love. Or: Those days that are gone can never return—but does that mean I can never live fully again?... and so forth. Yet there was a time when no amount of persuasion could have convinced us of such simple, natural truths.