Vachon Imagined

When you accept, without judgment or resistance, that love is all there is, you come to understand that persecution is love.

Humans like to believe that love is telling people how beautiful they are. But love also tells you when you are wrong and when you are being wronged.

It tells you when someone doesn’t respect you.

It tells you when you have abandoned yourself trying to make something into what it isn’t.

Love isn’t blind.

It sees.

It persecutes us just as much as it uplifts us.

It follows us into the places we don’t want to look. It exposes what we have hidden, what we have justified, what we have refused to accept. It does not allow us to remain comfortable inside an illusion simply because the illusion feels better.

But when we divide love into what is possible and what isn’t, we alienate ourselves and call it “other.”

Then we project this other onto someone else, hoping it will give us relief.

And let’s be honest for a moment.

It does.

For a while.

But like a drug, it wears off, and you are back at square one.

Yourself.

All of yourself.

The self the world has so graciously given back to you through clear perception.

A world gone mad?

Ah, yes.

Love.

A world that appears evil?

Ah, yes.

That’s love too.

Everything is love when you stop asking it to be something else.

Everything is for the person who accepts and loves themselves as they want to be loved.

As they want to be seen.

Even the things that persecute them.

Especially those.