Yesterday, I was on a run near a river and actively pondering the experience of love when I had a profound realization about myself that I think is relevant for others. All my life, love has been an experience for me that has felt so utterly massive, so real, that I have run from it.
I went out on my run yesterday with the intent to explore why this is the case, and I unexpectedly ran into an answer.

The feeling of love is so beautiful to me, and yet it hurts my soul, which is the first part of the realization I had yesterday. It hurts me so deeply—and as I said this statement and felt the idea in my heart, I began to cry. I embraced in that moment my vulnerability and did not run from it in my heart. Unexpectedly, I then realized why it hurts me so bad.

When I feel deep love, I cease to exist. Everything ceases to exist. What she said, I did, she did, we did, I believe, I want, I need, my pain, her pain—all of that disappears and nothing else exists in the fullest expression and experience of love. I find that so scary, because my very identity hinges on my beliefs, my needs, her needs, or what I can and cannot do, right?

Well, that depends. Am I just an American? Am I just a white man? Am I Robert or Rob? When I feel love and embrace it authentically, I cease to exist, and love becomes everything in the universe. I have felt this potential in my heart all my life, and I have run from it because it has hurt me and scared me.

I am delicate—and yet in that delicacy there exists a way of life and love with unlimited potential, and this potential is not in me, but in the field around me. I had a conversation this week with someone, and she invited me to embrace the field and move past ‘this’ or ‘that.’ I embraced her suggestion, and I feel (even if I cannot adequately convey in words) differently about everything.

As I put my hands on my knees yesterday and cried with ferocity, I ceased to exist—and for the first time in my life, I was not afraid. I feel afraid right now, because parts of me still hold on to what I love, how I love, and why I love. This is a process, however, and not a destination.

The last part of my realization is that my current heartache is my friend. I would not be here in this space without this friend. I’m scared of this friend, but I recognize the need to embrace the heartache. There is still a ‘but’ in my thinking and feeling, and so my focus is on this area of my heart that resists this path.

I believe in absolute true love, and to live and express this is my life’s mission. I am not a writer, marketer, business person, professor, or anything else. I am a single strand of love that is woven in the tapestry of life, and I am being spun.

If true love is a place, then yesterday I saw the bus go by that can take me to it. I have never seen this bus before. The next time I see this bus go by, I will be ready. I am going to move to love forever—and if I cannot catch this bus, then I will run to love.

Sure, the cost is steep. I must let go of myself to embrace the love. For the first time in my existence, however, I do not feel scared of love, because I realize I am already in it…

About Spaciology

Spaciology is not abstract theory; rather, it is a practice you can feel.

  • Inside: Pause, breathe, notice.
  • Outside: Design rooms, rituals, and agendas that slow the spin and invite care.
  • Between us: Make dialogue a place where different truths can live together long enough to teach something.

Ultimately, leadership is the art of making space for what’s important (for everyone) and letting that clarity shape the next step. When we change the spaces from which we lead, our strategies change with them.

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Robert Levey