UNIQUE RULE OF LOVE

Do you think love has rules?

Best Answer chosen by asker

One rule: SELFLESSNESS. Otherwise it cannot be called love.

Source:

ExperienceProject

Love among mankind, among lovers, among family members, among acquaintants and partners, among strangers and enemies…is directed by only one rule: SELFLESSNESS – that is love without condition, calculation, imposition.

The Prophets, the martyrs, the devoted believers…are concrete symbols of this love. They happily and graciously give their all for the benefit of the whole human race, under the guidance of the One True God.

Perhaps, I am too idealistic, utopic, unpractical in my concept about love. Because, when all human beings reach this level of love tears will cease to fall, hearts will cease to lament, souls will cease to feel melancholic. And poets, novelists, film producers… will become jobless!

But, who among us want to shed tears? None. We all want to possess the gifts of love, while other people should give us all without hesitation.

In reality, we all agree with the definition of love as selfless giving, but we don’t want to practice it. The reason is that we cannot trust other people, especially in these days of rampant hypocrisy, falsity, depravity.

Yes, God does not force us to love selflessly, but He allows us to learn, to think and to love with all creativity. Love is not a dead word. It is an expression of divine romanticism, that people of all generations will never want to exist without it.

Here, again, each individual is free to love as he knows, or as he wants to apply his knowledge on higher and higher levels.

Wishing that you will enjoy reading the following love story:

“There was once a lover who had sighed for long years in separation from his beloved, and wasted in the fire of remoteness. From the rule of love, his heart was empty of patience, and his body weary of his spirit; he reckoned life without her as a mockery, and time consumed him away. How many a day he found no rest in longing for her; how many a night the pain of her kept him from sleep; his body was worn to a sigh, his heart’s wound had turned him to a cry of sorrow. He had given a thousand lives for one taste of the cup of her presence, but it availed him not. The doctors knew no cure for him, and companions avoided his company; yea, physicians have no medicine for one sick of love, unless the favor of the beloved one deliver him.

At last, the tree of his longing yielded the fruit of despair, and the fire of his hope fell to ashes. Then one night he could live no more, and he went out of his house and made for the marketplace. On a sudden, a watchman followed after him. He broke into a run, with the watchman following; then other watchmen came together, and barred every passage to the weary one. And the wretched one cried from his heart, and ran here and there, and moaned to himself: “Surely this watchman is Izra’il, my angel of death, following so fast upon me; or he is a tyrant of men, seeking to harm me.” His feet carried him on, the one bleeding with the arrow of love, and his heart lamented. Then he came to a garden wall, and with untold pain he scaled it, for it proved very high; and forgetting his life, he threw himself down to the garden.

And there he beheld his beloved with a lamp in her hand, searching for a ring she had lost. When the heart-surrendered lover looked on his ravishing love, he drew a great breath and raised up his hands in prayer, crying: “O God! Give Thou glory to the watchman, and riches and long life. For the watchman was Gabriel, guiding this poor one; or he was Israfil, bringing life to this wretched one!”

Indeed, his words were true, for he had found many a secret justice in this seeming tyranny of the watchman, and seen how many a mercy lay hid behind the veil. Out of wrath, the guard had led him who was athirst in love’s desert to the sea of his loved one, and lit up the dark night of absence with the light of reunion. He had driven one who was afar, into the garden of nearness, had guided an ailing soul to the heart’s physician.

Now if the lover could have looked ahead, he would have blessed the watchman at the start, and prayed on his behalf, and he would have seen that tyranny as justice; but since the end was veiled to him, he moaned and made his plaint in the beginning. Yet those who journey in the garden land of knowledge, because they see the end in the beginning, see peace in war and friendliness in anger.

(Baha’u’llah, The Seven Valleys, p. 15)

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