📜 Written Lesson 7: Love Wants to Move Through You

Why This Matters:

After everything — the ego collapse, the bliss, the disorientation — you come back to this: there is love in you. And it wants to move. Not to fix the world, but to touch it. To breathe into it. To shine into the dark.

"You are such a unique human… the way this wants to be expressed will never be expressed again."

Tiger brings it home with fire and gentleness. We are not here to be impressive. We are not here to be right. We are here to give away what was given to us. Not in fear. Not in performance. But in service. The ego calls this a war. The heart calls it devotion. Your life is not about image — it’s about love.

Three Examples

Example: A mother questions her purpose

In the daily swirl of parenting, she wonders if she’s doing anything meaningful. There’s no retreat. No career path. Just laundry, food, and tantrums.

“I used to think I was meant to shine in big ways. Now I just try to keep everyone alive.”

But one night, sitting in silence after bedtime, she remembers: love is not measured in scope. It’s felt in sincerity. And the tenderness she brings to these small moments *is* the work. This is her battlefield. And she’s showing up.

Example: He wants to help but feels like a fraud

He has a gift. People feel safe around him. But when he thinks about offering sessions or sharing his voice, he hears the ego scream: *Who do you think you are?*

“Maybe I should wait until I feel more healed myself.”

But what if sincerity — not perfection — is the qualification? He begins to speak. Not as an expert, but as a vessel. And to his surprise, love shows up through him — even in his trembling.

Example: A woman keeps comparing her path

She sees others doing “big” spiritual things. Courses, books, stages. And she starts shrinking. Doubting her own quiet life of care, touch, and presence.

“Am I doing enough? Am I falling behind?”

Until she remembers: *this isn’t a contest*. It’s between her and God. Her and her heart. And what’s asked of her isn’t volume — it’s depth. She starts offering what’s already in her hands. And it’s more than enough.

Reflection Questions

• Where in my life do I withhold love out of fear of failure, judgment, or not being “enough”?
• What does it mean to serve love — not conceptually, but in my own sincere way?
• If this life is between me and me (or me and God), what role am I here to play?