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At its essence, Love is “God,” that which binds and enlivens the universe of universes.

We call it “Love” because our local organisms respond to its revelation much as to the arrival of a longed-for mate or the weight and fragrance of a sleeping infant’s head on an attentive parent’s shoulder — it binds and enlivens us to an immeasurable extent, far beyond the ability of words to convey.

Love is Rumi’s “beloved” and Bhagavan’s duly-capitalized “Self” and Krishnamurti’s “great meditation” and yours truly’s “truly sacred” — every one of them barely evocative, frequently misleading, and ultimately insufficient.

You cannot find Love.

You cannot earn Love.

You cannot hurry Love.

You cannot attain Love.

You cannot have Love.

You cannot keep Love.

You cannot give Love.

You cannot make Love.

You cannot stop Love.

You can only be Love — and as Love, there is surely nothing else.