We Are, Quite Literally, Made of Love
We are love itself—woven of its light, born of its breath. Love is not a feeling we chase or something we earn; it is the creative essence of the omniverse. It is love that birthed all we see and feel—pulsing through every star, every leaf, every body, every atom of air. It dreamed us into form, seeded the plants, shaped the earth, and set the stars to burn.
When we soften into this remembrance, we begin to see that love is not something that happens to us—it is what moves through us, endlessly creating, endlessly renewing. We are its hands, its voices, its living form. The work, then, is simply to stay open—to let love flow freely, without condition or containment, and to witness what unfolds when we do.
“In this boundless field where love is all—where nothing is withheld and everything is possible—what can we dream into being, for ourselves and for one another?”