TEACH
I Did Not Come Here to Teach You: Love Will Do That
There’s a misconception that wisdom must be taught, that knowledge is something to be handed down like a relic, neatly packaged in words and explanations. But the deepest truths of life are not learned in this way. They are felt, lived, and realized in moments when words fail.
I did not come here to teach you. I came here to love you. Love will teach you.
Love is the quiet force that shifts perspectives without argument. It doesn’t demand, it doesn’t insist on being understood, and it doesn’t seek to control. It simply is. Love is the space between words, the knowing that exists beyond explanation. It doesn’t need to convince you; it invites you.
When we try to teach through instruction alone, we appeal to the intellect, to reason, to the logical mind that categorizes and defines. But the heart speaks another language, one that doesn’t rely on definitions. You don’t teach someone to appreciate a sunset, you stand beside them and watch the sky melt into gold and violet. You don’t explain why a piece of music moves you, you close your eyes and let it carry you. And you don’t teach love in the way you teach mathematics, you embody it, and in its presence, others begin to recognize it within themselves.
We live in a world obsessed with being right, with knowing more, with having the answers. But love doesn’t concern itself with being right. It is not threatened by the unknown. Love is an open palm, not a clenched fist. It is a presence, not a performance.
To love without the need to teach is an act of surrender. It says: I trust that you will find your way, not because I have mapped it out for you, but because I have faith in the compass of your soul. It says: I see you as you are, not as a project to be fixed or a mind to be filled. It says: I am here, and in my presence, you are safe to discover, to unfold, to remember what you already know deep inside.
We have all been changed, not by lectures, but by love. Think back to the people who shaped you, who awakened something in you. Was it their words that left the deepest imprint? Or was it their presence, their acceptance, the way they made you feel? The moments where love, in its quiet and unwavering way, whispered to you: You are enough. You are seen. You are whole.
I do not need to teach you, because love itself is the great teacher. It reveals, it dissolves barriers, it softens the hardest edges. It is the light that makes the unseen visible.
So I will not preach to you. I will not try to mold you or correct you. I will not insist that you see the world through my eyes. I will simply love you. And in that love, if you allow it, you will see what you need to see.