Some called it Kama, the first flame, not to consume, but to illuminate. From primeval darkness, Kama blazed forth in the Rig Veda, like the first seed sown into the void. That light, delicate as a thread, connected nothingness with existence. But amidst the chaos, could that flame endure? Elsewhere, love arrived not in fire, but water. The Dao, born from Wuji, flowed through all things like a silent river. Neither speaking nor forcing, it simply flowed for billions of years. Love here is harmony and non-contention, yet it could diminish if the world turned away. A silent stream nourishes thousands, yet can vanish into nothing. In scriptures of faith, Love took the form of the Word. “In the beginning was the Word.” The first echo from the sacred, unfolding light and order. But even light is fragile if darkness springs from it. That Love illuminated the cosmos, yet was rejected by those it named. In Buddhism, there’s no beginning, only eternal flow. Love is compassion, neither speaking, demanding, nor remembering names. A thread, delicate as a breath, connects all beings through eons. But that thread can break if our hands aren’t gentle. Before written words, Sumerians spoke of Nammu, the primordial waters embracing chaos, birthing heaven and earth. No one said she loved, yet she was life’s root. That water still flows, silently, like a hidden bloodstream. Looking back, we see every name veils a shared, unnamed pulse. From Kama to Dao, the Word to compassion, Nammu’s waters to Ein Sof’s light. Perhaps it’s simply Love. Not emotion, but a current. Not reason, but direction. From Omeyocan to Olodumare, Eros to Logos, every culture heard a faint, distant whisper, never extinguished. A breath through the void, guiding us towards Laniakea, the cosmic garden yet to bloom, where Love flows silently, waiting to be named. Reading this far, unsure why? Perhaps you’re 24-28, shifting from feeling to thought. Perhaps you’ve read Campbell, Jung, Watts, or lost sleep over an unanswerable question. Hello, nameless friend. “Philosophy” comes from Greek: philo (φίλος) – love, affection; sophia (σοφία) – wisdom, intelligence. “The Wisdom of Love.” Feeling small before a sentence? Not fragility, but blooming. From someone who’s been there, heart to heart.