All there really is, is love. Love. Love.

Alan Murray Walsh

All stories are, in the end, love stories.

Love is all there is.

Unconditioned, unlimited, unending love.

What it is that dwelleth here,
I know not.
But my heart stands in awe
And the tears trickle down

11th Century, Japan

Humans can’t do unlimited love: humans are limited to the human condition.

Love is unlimited. Just like you, and I, for in you there is only I. See that there is only I — if you can. And I am nothing.

It is as if, in the middle of one’s being, there were a non-being. The Confucians call it the centre of emptiness; the Buddhists, the terrace of life; the Taoists, the ancestral land, or the yellow castle, or the dark pass, or the space of former heaven.

The Secret of the Golden Flower

Love is the constructional material of existence, it’s what it’s made out of. But please, don’t believe me, instead find out if it’s the truth…

Love is the only reality and it is not a mere sentiment. It is the ultimate truth that lies at the heart of creation.

Rabindranath Tagore

There’s really only one Being. All stories end, but the one Truth does not.

Find out if this is the truth, while you can.

Credits: Pixabay

I have many brothers and sisters in the Truth and they are closer to me than my fingers are to each other while each being utterly unique, for nothing in Reality is repeated ever.


All there really is is love. Love. Love.