Do you believe in love, or forests, or sunlight, or God?
Do you believe in love? Or forests? Or sunlight? Or God?
If you're in love right now, "Do you believe in love?" is a laughable question. You don't believe in love. You're in love. You live in love. Love fills everything around you.
If you are in love, then love is the most real thing there is.
If you've ever been in love, you don't believe in love either. You know that love is real.
If you've been in love, and think that love's been lost, you're wrong. Love can't be lost.
You can be lost, but love can't be. Love can be misplaced. Love can be forgotten, but it cannot be lost. It's always there, perhaps hidden behind a veil of pain or the curtain of resentment.
You may think that love came and went, but if it came, where did it come from? And if it went, where did it go?
Love is always there and we can choose love, or not.
It's our only choice: fear or love.
Love is always there to be chosen.
And love always chooses us.
It has chosen us, for we are the living.
We make love and love makes us.
Making love is different than having sex--but sex can be nice and can help love bloom.
Love transforms us if we let it.
Do I believe in love?
I do not, because I know love and I am in love and I make love every day.
"Do you believe in love?" Is as meaningless a question as "Do you believe in forests?" Or "Do you believe in sunlight?"
I have walked through forests and stood in the shade of trees. I have climbed in their branches. I have been in trees and fields and forests. And so I do not believe in them. I know them. I experience them.
Sunlight might not be shining on me right now, but I've stood in the sunlight. I've bathed in it. I've felt the sun's warmth. I do not believe in the sunlight. I know sunlight. I have experienced sunlight.
I've loved and been loved. I’ve been inspired by love and healed by love. I've been transformed by love. I don't believe in love. I know love.
You, reading this, are loved.
I assure you, love is there.
I love to write. I love what I write. I love everyone who takes the time to read what I write.
And why not love everyone who does not have the time? Or who doesn't like what I write? Or who doesn't know about what I’ve written?
Why not love?
It doesn't cost me anything to love. It's not as though I'm going to run out.
Funny thing about love: the more love you give, the more love you have. I have poured love into this essay, and I have more than when I started. I have a growing and endless supply.
Take a moment and check your supply. If you’re alive, you've got at least a little. So give it to someone. You'll discover you have more. Give that to someone else. Lather, rinse, repeat.
And don't forget to love yourself.
I don't believe in love. I also don't believe in forests or sunlight or God.
Instead, I live in them.
We all do.