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Source Before Meaning
On embodied love and the age we are stepping into
Before I can explain it, I feel it: a movement from within, a sense that arrives in the body before I have language for it. It doesn’t arrive as information exactly. It is more like orientation — a felt sense of toward and away, opening and closing, resonance and resistance.
The closest language I have for it, without flattening the experience into certainty, is an inner compass.
A compass does not tell you what you will find. It does not tell you whether the terrain is safe, whether your interpretation is correct, or what another person should do. It simply helps you remain oriented while you move through unfamiliar territory.
And orientation requires a north. Mine is love.
Not love as sentiment or constant agreement, but love as an organizing principle: a commitment to remain in relationship with myself, with other people, and with what is actually here.
That compass becomes invaluable in the symbolic environments we find ourselves awake inside. We are constantly moving through words, images, stories, identities, institutions, algorithms, beliefs, and other people’s interpretations of reality. Each carries its own gravitational pull.
