Sitting in my apartment, the city buzzing below, I found myself wondering—what if life is nothing more than a long, winding research project on love? Not just the romantic kind, but all the other flavors we encounter along the way: self-love, divine love, the love we get (or don’t get) from our parents, and that eternal love that seems to defy time and space.
When I was 17, I packed my bags and moved across continents, all for a chance to fall in love. At the time, I thought it was romance I was after, but what I discovered was so much deeper. Love appeared in ways I never expected—in the spiritual lessons that shaped me, in the way I learned to heal myself, and in the quiet moments when I connected with something bigger than all of us. Love, it turns out, has a way of turning the impossible into reality.
Over the years, I’ve realized that love isn’t just an emotion—it’s a tool. It’s what keeps us grounded when life gets chaotic, what fuels our wellness journey, and what drives us to keep going, even when things fall apart. It’s the reason we chase our dreams, mend our hearts, and search for meaning in this wild, unpredictable world.
As I continue my own research on love—both the kind we give and the kind we receive—I’m left with one burning question: what’s the point of life if it’s not to be madly, passionately, and completely in love—with something, someone, or maybe just yourself?