“Louise. What do you know?” my soul asked.
I dried the tears on my cheeks and replied. “Resistance is futile. I am. Love is.”
It was one of those moments of utter clarity. Of knowing. Of being.
We spend our lives struggling to make sense of our lives. We spend time and energy doing whatever we can to create value in our world. To live on purpose. To be of significance.
All of these things are important. They are our journey and they make a difference in the quality of our journey — but not our existence. For, no matter what we do or become or say or acquire or create, when all the doing, all the struggle to be, to have purpose, to know our ‘raison d’etre’ is over, one irrefutable truth remains. We are. Love is.
No matter what we do, when we leave this earth, when our bodies dissolve into tiny atoms of matter, it matters not to the Universe what we did or had or created. What matters is that we existed, no matter how briefly or long, we existed. And in our very existence, we were and always will be, Love.
And that is what brought me to tears while deep in my meditation. The energy. The beauty. The profound depth of our exquisite nature. We are. Love is.
And in this journey of our lifetimes, what we do in our daily lives enhances the quality of our journey. Never the quality of our essence. For always, our essence is perfect. Our beings are divine.