My love is sheer immensity. It is empty space, full and limitless and infinite, boundless and endless. It cannot be contained in a single person, one entity. It get stifled, suffocated. It begins to stagnate and stink. And decay, then die.

But the one who chose to accept my love is the most generous of everyone. He took it with both hands and threw it out to the sky, so it had all the space it needed. Without any adjustment, any condition, any compulsion. My love got its opportunity to expand and revel in its own self. And it came back to me. Gorgeous, generous, magnificent, spectacular.

What could I do but throw it back into the sky? And it embraced every being in this Universe, every breath of air, every second of time that ever existed. It touched the Sun, the Moon, the millions of stars and star fragments. And each one of them threw it back into the cosmos. And it continued. And it continues.

"Love is not an emotion; it is your very existence," says Sri Sri Ravi Shankar. Now I know what he means, yes I do!

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