ATMA VIDYA. REALITY OF MY FAVOURITE THINGS.

POETIC PERFECTION 

 

Old souls do not love the way the world teaches love.

Old souls do not arrive hungry for completion. 

They arrive already carrying the weight of other lifetimes, so their affection is quieter, slower, and strangely precise. 

They recognize the familiar ache in another’s silence before a word is spoken. 

They do not rush the unveiling. 

They wait at the threshold of the soul the way one waits beside an ancient well, knowing the water will rise only when it is ready.

Their love is not possession. 

Their love is not attachment. 

Their love is freedom. 

Their love is connection. 

It is remembrance. 

A hand held is less a claim than a confirmation: 

I have known the shape of you before this body. 

They forgive what has not yet been confessed, because they have already walked the long corridor of consequence. 

They leave when the lesson is finished, not when the feeling fades, and the leaving itself is an act of devotion rather than abandonment.

They love in the liminal spaces between words.

In the way light falls silently across a shared table after midnight. 

They are love in the willingness to sit with another’s unfinished grief without trying to rename it or fix it or change it. 

Absolute freedom to be. 

Absolute devotion to one. 

Ordinary romance seeks mirrors; seeks validation, is conditionally co dependent in mind attaching and addictive stifling. 

Whereas mature unconditional love 

is love that already is windows. 

Open. 

Fresh air. 

Flowing. 

Enough is enough. 

A limited love mind attaches and minimises in a stuck, staid reflection. 

A limited love narrows through seeking approval and validation in perfect people pleasing. 

Whereas a messy imperfect old soul mature love connects 

and inspires. 

True nature kindly challenges, fierecly expands and graciously opens fresh doors, moment to Moment. 

Old souls burn deep within, a heated Hara, a home hearth. 

Thet are not colder. 

Except to the shallow, the narrow, the callow. 

Old souls are simply less willing to mistake intensity for depth, or duration for destiny. 

What unconditionally connected souls offer is rarer: 

a love that has already survived its own death, 

Integrated, whole, returned, 

aligned as enough is enough 

and therefore no longer fears the next one.

OLD SOULS LOVE DIFFERENTLY.