Perfect Imperfection Of Love

Perfect imperfection of love.

Today I was again in a depression at its expanding last stage, again I was in the same spot I thought, failed in my ability for the reason that I'm here. Again not feeling to have fulfilled my primal passionate feeling of what I came to do here on this planet. I thought I had missed my chance had not listened to the call and to the masters who help us. This journey about what love really is, is still above my intellectual comprehension even though I can explain it rather good by word. Talking to my ex-girlfriend about what love is and then we support each other wherever it goes with our relating to each other. That it is about bringing each other, ourselves, each and every one further in our life’s mission of love to this world no matter what happens. You change, I change, and so we give that to each other through to every person and every part that is. Conversation with new love where I said I'm not going to commit to any relationship and I promise nothing because that going to stop love again, those promises of projections that we should keep up to one another so we'll bounce into expectation / disappointment / guilt cycle again. Let love be love and don’t make any promises but let it flower to where it wants go and be faithful to that, not to each other but to the love you feel for another, the whole world and source of existence. On this way we can never do short or give to little to each other and existence.

A short little drive on my bicycle the same day to look for some green, looking and going to a small little forest or actually more a tiny grown over bush randomly in nature. That was the biggest lesson I experienced in whole my life while I already felt and saw so many similar events but here now the simplest thing ever but perfect in each moment, so small but unbelievable huge and had everything in it. It was beautiful and wonderful but did not want to give it any words at the same time, afraid to give it a thought and so to go out the true moment of now, out of what “is”. Little spiders who glide in the last sunbeams in their own build webs while small flies still save fly thru them without getting caught in the webs that so majestically were spun over the grass. I felt how everything connects together, how perfect source projected this reality in imperfection. Finally I was home again en felt how much I loved source “ourselves”, so very much. Source is very happy when we love her and that source loves it self when we do and that source is not alone anymore. Because how we learn to love ourselves so is everything that “is” also learning this. Without us source don’t exist, without our love source is lonely and source is fulfilled and accomplished perfectly when each part of it projected self loves again herself, that is source. It is home again and back to itself and so this as well for our own personal experience cause how it is in the small so it is in the big of all that “is”, so above so below.

Source projected itself in so many beautiful forms and shapes, where we life in and even exist out of, in the perfect imperfection of projection that is itself. We look how this universe holds itself, where it connects, but wherever we look it is not there, it is the nothing that everything “is”. The no-thing is where we come out and exist from, and without coming out of nothing, no-thing doesn't exist as well. We are not separate of source, we are source but it is nothing, a no-thing. Without us source is not existing and mission source is to see herself again with every little particle of which she projected herself.

The first time that she “spoke” with me was a feeling of pity and compassion, a feeling of how lonely she is… although at the same time I felt her endless power but also has a shyness to look helpless cause in essence she is not. And that is the same with us humans in our own lives, also lonely but not helpless, every time we try again and again the game of love. We are not separate, we are source, we are here to learn about love thru ourselves and don’t forget there isn't ourselves, there is only what is, that what is nothing. The perfect imperfection of love, the other doesn’t exist without the other one and that is the same for us, without the other you don't exist.

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