Can you love without cause?

A question that arrived... "Can you now love without cause?"

And I answered so quick - Yes!

Can you love without reason—

without justification, outcome, or proof?

Not because it is deserved, returned. or it makes sense.

But because it moves through you

the way breath arrives without effort, leaving without force,

never asking permission to keep you alive.

Most of what we are taught about love is transactional.

We learn to love ourselves when we improve.

To love family when harmony is present.

To love work when it rewards us.

To love the divine when answers arrive.

Over time, this kind of learning hardens us.

It teaches the heart to brace, to calculate,

to withhold until conditions feel safe.

Yet there is another kind of love—

older, quieter, and far less conditional that I have been long asked to embrace.,

and it seems as this way is now asked of me to speak about ...

The Love of self, not because you are healed, aligned, productive, or peaceful—

but because you are here. Breathing. Learning.

Still becoming.

This love does not wait for confidence.

It does not demand consistency.

It does not tighten when you falter.

Like breath, it stays steady, faithful,

even when you forget to notice it.

It is the kind of self-love that says:

I am myself- I am human today & I love it.

The Love of family, not as obligation or loyalty alone,

but as presence without armor. As the willingness to see one another

as incomplete, evolving souls.

Allowing difference without hardening.

To remain without needing resolution.

This love does not excuse harm—

but it also does not close the chest.

It knows when to softly step back,

and when to stay in presence.

The Love of work, not as identity or worth, but as devotion.

As breath given to what you are meant to tend, shape, and offer—

even when recognition is delayed,

even when the path is quiet,

even when no one is watching.

And then there is love as divine responsibility.

Not love as performance.

Not love as spiritual bypass.

But love as stewardship— embodying the practice.,

a way of breathing with the world rather than against it.

To live without poisoning the ground beneath your feet.

To speak without tightening what could remain open.

To move with awareness that your presence—

your tone, your pauses, your choices—

circulates through more than you will ever see.

And if—

and when—

things or relationships are taken from you…

can you still love without hardening?

Can you let grief move through

without turning it into armor?

Can you allow loss to pass

without closing the place where love breathes?

Can you love and proceed without blaming?

This is not the love that clings.

Not the love that bargains.

Not the love that survives by tightening its grip.

This is the love that remains permeable.

The love that knows endings do not negate truth.

The love that does not confuse absence with failure.

To love without hardening does not mean you are untouched.

It means you are willing to be touched—

and still stay open, gentle & compassionate.

It means you let sorrow speak

without letting it instruct the heart to close.

It means you allow what was real

to remain real, even when it no longer stays.

This is the love I was taught.

Not in theory—

but through living,

through losing,

through standing again without bitterness as my guide.

A love that breathes even when the chest aches.

A love that does not retract when the horizon shifts.

A love that trusts what has passed

has already changed us for the better.

And this—

this is the love I am passing on to you.

A love beyond possession.

Beyond outcome.

Beyond our own horizon.

A love that does not end

when something is taken—

because it was never dependent on staying.

This is the devotion.

Can you then still Love when the demand is high and it seems nothing is

coming your way?

Loving this way is not martyrdom.

It is not endurance disguised as virtue.

It is not the erasure of self, nor the absence of boundaries.

It is knowing self.,

This love does not confuse openness with exposure. nor does it

stays where harm is repeated.

It does not remain where the body says no.

It is a LOVE that simply refuses to harden.

It is a different orientation entirely—

not an act of will, strategy, or a posture to maintain.

It is a frequency of being.

A love that can step back without closing.

A love that can release without resentment.

A love that can protect itself without turning into stone.

This kind of love knows when to leave,

and still does not collapse into bitterness.

It knows when to draw a line, and still breathes.

It is love that remains intact—

not because everything stayed, but because

the heart did not calcify around what was lost.

This is the love I was taught.

And this is the love I pass on to you.

Not as a rule.

Not as an obligation.

But as a way of being., but as an offering-

beyond our own horizon.

A devotion that stays alive.

Much Divine Light

Rev Pauline