Suspended in light, the soul gazes into its own reflection —
the quiet doorway of self-love opens.
“And when you part from your friend, you grieve not;
For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence,
as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.”
— Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet
Solitude unveils the quiet majesty of love — not as desire, but as remembrance.
What the world calls absence is, in truth, divine nearness.
The self, mirrored in stillness, learns to love without grasping —
and in that surrender, it becomes infinite.
This piece continues the meditation begun in The Privilege of Love and Solitude,
available on Medium — a companion reflection on how love’s liberation turns inward,
becoming the quiet illumination of the soul.
It also follows The Soliloquy of Solitude —
where divine separation first became sacred remembrance.
Together, these works form a continuum:
the soul’s pilgrimage from sacred separation to self-recognition,
from the ache of solitude to the wholeness of divine love.
When love liberates and solitude rejuvenates the soul.
I. The Silence Within
In solitude,
love takes a new form.
It ceases to reach outward
and begins to bloom inward—
softly, deliberately,
like a seedling curling its way up
from beneath the soil of a quiet forest floor.
From the moment you were born,
your soul was impregnated
by the love of God—
and bound, ever since,
to the mirror of your being—
your twin soul.
The portrait of being—
a mirror created by God,
reflected back at you.
The world no longer defines you.
The mirror shifts—
no longer a reflection of faces or roles,
no longer a labyrinth of illusions,
but a mirror that liberates,
reflecting your essence
in the gateway of heaven.
The ceramics within you crackle in fire,
light seeping through the vessel of your body.
Your being holds light—
and there is already light within you.
In stillness, you see through the world’s dust—
where things appear motionless, immutable—
yet beneath you, the ground shifts
as if an unseen organism grows from within.
An unknown part of your soul
unfurls and reveals itself.
Your twin, your split soul,
is the key that activates the heart of your light.
It lies at the very center of your being—
unseen, untouched, undisturbed.
You meet the parts of yourself
that once sought validation,
the shadows you denied,
the wounds that shaped your tenderness.
You listen—
you tend to the wild echoes of your heart,
not to the noise of the mind
or the garbled voices of distraction,
but to the music within—
a rhythm that never falters,
an ancient pulse whispering,
“I am here.”
Self-love is not indulgence.
It is remembrance—
nurturing the gatekeeper of space and peace.
It is returning to the home
that was never lost—
a boundless solarium for the growing self,
open to the sky,
free of ceilings and confinement.
It was only forgotten in the noise of seeking,
obscured by the scent of ego’s pretense.
Through solitude,
you rediscover your rhythm—
unhurried,
each note amplified by the treble clef of your soul—
a soul that composes, creates,
and crafts new harmonies adorned with love.
Uncompromising, unbounded,
whole and precious—
yet piercingly real,
defying the machinery of modernity.
Recognition comes gently—
or all at once,
a flood through neural pathways.
Not revelation,
not foresight of what’s to come,
but reunion—
a communion with your own being.
You realize:
you were never incomplete.
You were simply unseen—
obscured by the gauze of the world’s illusions,
wrapped in the shrink-wraps of convention and lineage.
You watch as ancient parts of yourself resurface—
the becoming, the broken,
the fragments long dormant.
These are the hidden facets
that defy the pillars of norm and tradition.
Now you see yourself—
ever-evolving, fluid, alive—
through compassion’s gaze,
in the afterglow of reunion.
You see yourself reflected
in another soul also escaping the labyrinth,
each mirroring the other
without judgment,
without disguise—
only truth.
This seeing heals.
It unbinds the bandaged solutions of old wounds.
This love steadies—
it shines in eternity
with integrity, respect, and growth.
This awareness liberates every part of your being.
As you rise, you realize
your empathy was never wasted—
it was integrated, balanced,
woven into the radiant exchange of love.
In the quiet,
you find tranquility in time’s endlessness—
as if time itself is only perception.
Within the depth of that well,
you meet the intersection of modernity and antiquity.
From above, the surface seems still,
dark and unyielding.
But beneath—
as you dive deeper—
you find vastness.
The well connects past to ocean,
and as you drift,
you see how small this world is,
how luminous your own spark of light becomes
within that infinite sea.
You become your own companion.
In that well, you find the mirror of yourself—
your sanctuary,
your secret refuge,
unbounded and sacred.
You stand united with your divine witness.
In that sacred space,
there is no hunger, no striving—
only love,
and the ever-growing pulse of life within you.
You understand:
to love yourself
is to honour creation itself.
Treat yourself as a temple—
with reverence, respect, and dignity.
II. Love Reborn Through Wholeness
When you emerge from solitude,
you do not return unchanged.
You are unchained—
freed from the shackles that once held you,
that molded and confined you into being.
Now, you are no longer that wizened clay
kneaded by the hands of society—
no longer lured by shadows of false glory,
nor by illusions of power, wealth, or status.
You no longer spin upon the hamster wheel of karma.
For within you burns a quiet knowing—
a language of sacred discernment,
understood only by the soul.
It replenishes, recreates,
and writes new syntax into your being:
new meaning, new manifestation,
new expressions of divine existence.
Having met yourself
behind the walls of your own fortress,
guarded by the sentinels of your heart,
you discover that silence holds no sorrow,
no fleeting joy measured by worldly angles,
but a steady unbundling of infinite joy—
a joy that cannot be flattened,
quantified, or contained.
You no longer seek to be completed,
to define the integral and its derivative of happiness.
You meet others now in a spacious solarium of being—
open to the air, open in heart—
not from absence,
but from abundance,
from the quiet presence of the soul.
Your love is no longer a reaching point.
It is ever-glowing, overflowing,
yet untouchable by most.
It does not grasp;
it does not ensnare like a Venus trap.
It grants, it radiates, it flows.
It does not bind—
it breathes and expands in perpetuity.
In seeing yourself clearly,
you are incandescent—
glowing, twinkling,
in rhythm with your twin soul.
You see the divine mirrored in another—
as God first mirrored Himself in you.
You listen without fear.
You mend your heart gently,
unafraid of the pain in each stitched thread,
for your soul has endured many needles—
the sharp lessons of becoming.
You give without losing,
you offer without seeking to be seen,
you receive without owing.
For you have surrendered,
shed your old identity,
and stepped beyond the world’s perceptions.
You commence your being anew—
no longer dictated by the world’s rules of becoming.
The heart—once restless—
beats now with intention.
Its rhythm is steady and sound,
its devotion unforced—
forged in prayer and sacred coexistence.
You learn that love
is never possession,
but presence—
an undulating current of purpose and devotion.
It flows in freedom,
deepened by every facet of truth.
It is a wavelength without end,
residing in the infinite vastness
of the universe’s heart.
When two whole souls meet,
they do not fuse—
they blend and harmonize,
each allowing the other’s colors to shine.
Each honors the other’s light,
each bows to the mystery within.
Together, they co-author the course of being,
guided by God’s divine hand.
The trio becomes one living music—
soul, twin, and God—
a sacred symphony of eternity.
And so, self-love becomes universal love—
boundless, timeless.
What once was introspection
becomes communion—
the conjoinment of all fragments of the self.
What once was solitude
is no longer loneliness,
but sacred connection—
a dialogue between souls and the divine.
For love, reborn through wholeness,
needs no witness.
Only awareness itself
bears witness to the unfolding of the self
in holy silence.
It is the eternal mirror—
the self returning to the self,
reflecting God’s image
through another,
becoming whole again in grace.
The ego dissolves.
The self evolves.
Love is reborn—
and lives within you,
as the mirror of God’s infinite light.
And thus, love circles back — ever inward, ever whole.
When you emerge from solitude,
you do not return unchanged…
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