The Way I Love

“Listen to your inner light; it will guide you. Listen to your inner peace; it will feed you. Listen to the inner love; it will transform you” - Sri Chinmoy

Letting Go Gently

For some time now, I’ve been noticing how honest I’ve become with myself—especially in how I feel about certain aspects of my life. There’s been a change in the wind. What I once held dear now feels loose, like strings untied… asking to be let go. Ever so gently.

There’s no force. No friction. Just a quiet breeze inviting surrender. Like a leaf drifting softly from a tree, this shift is about love—how it finds me now, how I show up for it, and how it caresses me differently than before.

It’s softer. Quieter. More powerful in its stillness.

I feel different when I love now. I’m asking for space. Grace. Not to fill a void, but to let it exist and breathe—to let it teach me. It’s a strange feeling at times, yet deeply familiar. Like something ancient and true rising within me.

This change doesn’t ask me to do anything. It asks me to allow. To inquire. To stay curious.

I’m learning to be in the present moment and to notice the subtle shifts that unfold there. I’m speaking and feeling from the heart… gently. Allowing. Honouring what arises.

There’s been back and forth—moments where another’s words come with disbelief, confusion, frustration. As if they don’t understand the need to transform what was into what could be. Something new. Fresh. Flourishing.

And yes—fear has surfaced. Hurt grew louder. Anger came next. I witnessed a tug-of-war between hearts… and in that moment, I knew it was time to rest.

Time passed. The dust settled. And the realisation became clear: this change is necessary. Not as an ending, but as a threshold to a new beginning.

Love, now, feels quiet. Gentle. Peaceful. Just as we all deserve.

The Quiet Way I Love

Grounded presence.
Not performed but felt.

Interconnectedness that doesn't grasp,
just holds.

Tenderness,
offered freely, without condition.

The unspoken word—
not absence, but depth.

Love deeply.
Let compassion reign,
even when understanding falters.

I see the old patterns,
the ache they left.
So I withdraw—not in fear,
but to listen for a better way.

Quietly searching.
Not for someone,
but for truth.

Becoming aligned.
Not perfect—just real.

Capturing the sacred pause,
where vulnerability asks to be seen.

Openness. Allowing.
Not rushing.
Not fixing.
Just being.

This is a new way to love.
It is raw.
Illuminated.
Tender.

And it feels
like peace.