Does Love Always Win?

It’s a common phrase amongst spiritual folk – Love always wins. Does it? It doesn’t seem like love always wins. It doesn’t even feel like love always wins. So … is it true? Does love win in the long run? If yes, how long a run? In my lifetime? In the lifetime of my children or grandchildren? In the next 200,000 years?

What exactly does that mean?

Yes, we are made of love. In fact, there is nothing but love when you define love as Infinite Aliveness. An old friend and I used to describe life as being made up of hearticles, a little play on particles. What’s fascinating, is that she is an old friend, not a current friend. We plied the infinite field of aliveness together for years and still, at least in human form, love didn’t appear to win.

The breakup of our friendship was part of the great unfolding, exposing traumas still hiding in the creases of the folds. It led me into the hidden shadows of abandonment, the sense of aloneness, the deep hold out fold of betrayal and being forever misunderstood and unforgiven. What it offered her I still do not know, although I am certain her path was no easier than mine.  

On my journey, I came to a place of not caring whether we were disconnected before I came to forgiveness. I tried so many times to fix us that I finally just gave up. I had no more in me to give. Forgiveness, the idea of forgiving us, seems to have taken last place. Even knowing that she is not she, and I am not I, that we are this Infinite Aliveness and its forms, forgiveness had a need to cycle around, had to work its magic in the clearing field.

Unlike most other fields of forgiveness, I didn’t blame myself for our separation. I simply didn’t understand how it could have happened. I didn’t see personal blame. I just felt hurt. The abandonment energy was strong. I couldn’t see what I couldn’t see.

I had lost so many important people in my life – my beloved husband, my mother, my best friend, all to death in a very small window of time. To lose another beloved simply completely utterly broke me, but I didn’t wear the cloak of brokenness for long. I couldn’t do that to myself again. I had nothing left for grief, so instead, without realizing, I took on the mantle of indifference.  

Being broken was the gift that was embedded within the friendship that tore itself asunder. I had to break in order to let her go. The breaking ripped our shared world apart, leaving me standing on my own, tearing me away from the last person with influence over me, the one whose voice could make me doubt myself. Having stepped away from a teacher years prior, losing my community and many trusted souls to rely upon, I knew this friendship had a similar feel in a much smaller capacity, and I was willing to let it be. Evidently my complacency was enough to require a complete reset, or it wouldn’t have unraveled the way it did.

It would be so much easier if we were open and willing to see our hold cards and lay them down on the table without any resistance, if we could walk away without being torn apart. It doesn’t seem to happen easily very often. It seems to require a reset of some sort, generally quite painful.   

After a while the brokenness could not be contained, would not stay where I had stuffed it from my sight. That’s the beauty of brokenness. It wants to be seen, to be felt, to heal itself, to whole itself. That’s the discomfort we feel in our bodies, the brokenness trying to rise to the surface and our mostly unconscious efforts to push it back down into the depths.

There is a constant battle between wholeness and its shattered pieces being waged within. The pieces are magnetized to the pull of their whole design and cannot leave us to our brokenness, no matter how well we hide it. They are always wiggling free, floating to the surface, willing us to feel them and free them and ourselves.  

So yes, in that sense, love always wins. Our lives will always point us back to love. The hard lessons will bring with them the opportunity to love the ever new moment more completely, to free the trapped energy of fear and anger, hatred and harm, trauma and despair that we have hidden within, in our innocent inability to feel what seemed to be our terminal brokenness, our irretrievable wholeness.

Does love winning look like heaven on earth? Does it mean the world will heal and return to wholeness? Will hate disappear? Will peace and happiness reign?  

In the world of separation that is impossible. That is the nature of separation. Is it possible for all separation to end, for every sentient being to see through the maze of individuality? I guess we will have to wait and see, for any supposition puts us back in the maze, in time, in separation, the Gordian knot revisited.  

And … when we know who we are, when we remember what this is, we don’t have to wait. It is already heaven on earth regardless of the contents of the dream. Love has always won. Love could never lose. There never was, nor could there ever be a separate anything or anyone.   

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