Something occurred to me recently about love and thought, and once I saw it, I couldn’t unsee it.

If love is not something we create with thought, but something that shows up before thought gets involved and if we don’t actually control the thoughts that enter our minds, then falling in love must be one of the most natural, spontaneous experiences we ever have.

Which makes sense, because that’s exactly how it feels to me.

I didn’t decide to fall in love.
I didn’t plan it.
I didn’t reason my way into it.

I found myself there.

Love arrives quietly, effortlessly, often unexpectedly.

One moment, life is ordinary; the next moment, it’s not.

Something feels warmer.
Brighter.
More alive.
Not because the world changed, but because our experience of it did.

And then… thinking shows up.

Thinking asks questions.
Thinking wants guarantees.
Thinking wants to know where this is going and how to protect it.
Thinking starts running scenarios, timelines, risks, and escape routes.

In other words, we fall in love naturally, and then we think our way out.

Not intentionally.
Not because we’re broken.
But because that’s what the personal mind does when it senses vulnerability.

From a Three Principles perspective, love isn’t something thought produces.
Thought gives love form — stories, meanings, labels — but love itself feels more like what’s revealed when thinking softens.
It shows up in moments of presence, openness, and clarity.
Moments when we’re not busy managing ourselves or the future.

That’s why love often feels effortless in the beginning.
There’s less thinking in the way.

And it’s also why love can feel like it “disappears,” when in truth, it’s just being covered over by noise.

Nothing went wrong.
Nothing was lost.
The signal just got crowded.

What if love hasn’t gone anywhere… and only thinking has wandered?

Valentine’s Day tends to put a spotlight on love as something we must maintain, prove, or get right.

But maybe love isn’t fragile at all.
Maybe it’s remarkably resilient, quietly waiting underneath our thinking, ready to reappear the moment the mind settles.

Love doesn’t need us to work harder.
It doesn’t need better strategies or smarter conversations.
It needs space.

When thinking eases, love naturally comes back online.
The same way it arrived in the first place.

So perhaps the most loving thing we can do, for ourselves and for each other, isn’t to try harder at love but to notice when we’ve wandered into thinking, and gently let life bring us home again.

Because love doesn’t need to be created.

It only needs to be remembered.

Much Love,

I have shared this before, but it’s too good not to share again!

I know I can be biased at times when it comes to music – okay, some other things too. BUT this, to me, is the all-time number one LOVE song. At least in my lifetime.

And then there was THAT movie: