Most people believe they want love—deep, full, overflowing love.
But the truth is, most people can’t take much love. It’s like pouring water onto desert earth—the water pools on top, unable to penetrate the surface. It cannot hold the nourishment it so deeply craves.
This is what happens when love exceeds a person’s Having Level—the amount a person unconsciously determines they deserve.
If you go beyond someone’s having level, they start sabotaging. Our having level energetically shuts things out that feel too—too intense, too loving, too overwhelming. It’s like an automatic peep-show window that slams shut without our consent. This is why it might look like someone is ghosting us or pulling back after a big expression of affection. On the surface, it seems like they are cruelly withdrawing. But under the hood, they expressed affection, and we subtly and invisibly withdrew, closed, blocked.
And how? More often than not, by grasping. Grasping happens when there’s an energy flow, and we grip or contract around it. It might sound like:
“This is so wonderful—I want to spend the rest of my life with this person.”
“I would do anything for them.”
“I would die without them.”
These thoughts take us out of the present moment, which is the only place intimacy can flow between two people. So ironically, those passionate thoughts, that breath-holding, waiting for them to call—close the very channel they would connect through. That’s the funny part. Without the flow of connection, they drift away or deliberately move away, and we blame them. But at a deeper level, we blocked their love.
It’s a way the ego maintains its identity as the “open and loving” one while casting the other as the one rejecting and manipulating. Egos feed on pain. The ego loves heartbreak, rejection, drama, upset. If you have a rigid ego, it would rather affirm itself—keeping you blind to your own role in your heartbreak—than allow you to be happy. The ego sees only the other as the cause of your happiness or grief. It cannot hold the truth: that you are the author of your own story.
Now, here’s where it gets tricky. Societies, by their very nature, are designed to keep people in line—no one waking up to their sovereignty. Free people kill the market. If you are free, you no longer rely on their interpretations for your experience. You don’t depend on their approval. You don’t need their products to feel good.
To keep people in bondage to society, culture provides:
a) narratives that make it not your responsibility—most often through diagnoses or controlled opposition (It’s that party, those people, that historical event).
b) strong systems of approval and punishment to keep you in line—media takes, cancellations, social snubbing, even legal implications.
c) most importantly, endless salves you can purchase to band-aid the suffering that comes from not being free—medications, therapies, soundbites that act like immune responses to fresh ideas.
This works exponentially. You become numb to the impulse to awaken, re-indoctrinated into the message that it’s them, this external cause of your discomfort. It’s like seeking freedom on a movie set designed by the warden.
The way out? Every time:
How is this me? How is this my responsibility? How is this my doing? What part of me would have to develop for this not to happen again? What part of me grasps?
Is it the need to be special? The need for security? The desire for belonging? Proximal power?
There is real pain, but all suffering is abandonment of the true self. When your response to pain can be:
“How did I create this?”
—rather than projecting responsibility outward (while still honoring the pain)—then you are on the road to freedom. You begin making the unconscious conscious, eliminating fear, taking your power back.
You don’t take your power back by finger-pointing. You take it back by drawing it into your power source—the place where you see your massive capacity to create a life, either by default or by choice. That is up to you.
The detox is heavy. The ego satisfaction of seeking justice, retribution—it’s intoxicating. Wanting them to suffer like you suffered.
And yes, there is a time for accountability—but only when you are free of your suffering. Only when your reason for accountability is that you want the other person, who was not in alignment with their karma, to stop suffering. Only when you see that someone acting outside of human kindness is already suffering, and you no longer take it personally.
Then, and only then, can you be part of their return to themselves—never when you are seeking something for yourself.
You were given the gift. The gift is the lesson. The lesson is the practice. The practice is the strengthening of your backbone. The exercise we all must do if we want to be strong.
What will you do with this most precious gift?