Untamed Love

Not allowing ourselves to be with people we truly love - this concept of forbidden love has created entire civilizations and sometimes has also destroyed them during wars. Cultures, art, innovation, and even science can all somehow be related to this concept of forbidden love.

But before exploring these macro implications, let's understand the basics.

It might have started very young, when you experienced an attraction to someone at school and told your parents about it in excitement. But your parents, having judged that person's troubled background as something they didn't want you to deal with while still a child, forbade you from loving that person.

It can be even more complex with adult problems. You might both be living in different countries whose nations hate each other, where you might even risk death at the hands of your own parents if you act on your forbidden love.

Literature, art, and music would probably not exist in their current form if there weren't such a concept in our psyche as forbidden love. Just look around - the entire culture, entertainment industry, and literary classics all revolve around the concept of forbidden love in some form.

Probably every family system in this world has a story of forbidden love: a refugee grandmother who fell in love with the enemy, the rebel aunt from a respected family who fell for a criminal, a married man with seven children suddenly realizing he is actually attracted only to men. There are also other variations: cousins, teacher and student, king and slave falling in love.

Many people have either experienced this in their lives or know someone who has.

It's a systemic relational dynamic that is experienced very often and at many levels.

Forbidden love has very deep karmic and ancestral implications. It's a trauma that is highly hereditary. If you have not properly processed the trauma of forbidden love in your own ancestry, you will somehow transmit this to future generations or experience it yourself.

It's a very deep trauma that will manifest itself in the entire family system, if needed, to be fully seen, acknowledged, and properly transformed.

Forbidden love is an endless well of unresolved suffering and deep shame. It is felt by everyone around those who were not allowed, or didn't allow themselves, to keep their love unforbidden, no matter what.

Love is the strongest connection between people. It's a frequency that transcends everything. The more love you feel toward someone, the more intensely you will feel both the power and the fear of the authentic connection with that person.

If you put any conditions on love or if something happens that breaks that connection, the entire system will suffer in one way or another.

Forbidden love always has consequences. The more it remains in an unprocessed state within you, the more it will impact your entire reality.

If you want to really clean your karmic connections like a professional, make sure you find a resolution and a path of healing for all the forbidden love stories of your ancestors. The more your ancestors forgive themselves for the love they didn't have, the easier it will be for you to fully trust in love.

In many belief systems, there are considered to be many possible sins. Some are seen as bigger, some as smaller. For some, you can go to prison; some are just foolish. But the sin of saying "no" to real love is potentially the biggest, the most intense, and the most painful to deal with.

Think about it.

What is sin? It is something that stays in your consciousness as something unresolved. You are not at peace about something in your own inner world. You know you have sinned when you feel shameful. The worse you feel, the bigger the sin you have committed. The longer it stays with you and the more it occupies your mental space, the more you have sinned.

Now, think deeper and more broadly about your own life. About what would you say you have real regrets? What is the real root of your suffering? What kind of "no" and to whom did you say it that you wish you hadn't?

The real shame we might be feeling is actually about all the times we said no to love. The more intense the love is and the louder the "no" to that feeling you get, the more shame you will feel inside.

Put differently, the more you close yourself off to love, the more shame there will be in the entire relational system and especially in you.

It is true not only for romantic relationships, but observing this specific kind of love in larger systems is the most evident and easier way to understand how these dynamics work in general; it's pretty much the same everywhere else as well.

When you build a new system, you need to know its "real-life" limits of functioning and the range of optimal conditions for operating the system safely and efficiently in our shared environment.

In engineering, it's called "the stress test" - you basically put your product or system in the most intense conditions and observe when, how, and why it gets destroyed.

There are people, like the engineers of destruction, who specialize in crushing cars or airplanes in factories to ensure they are safe for the general public to drive and use. It's their job to destroy what their own teams have created in order to completely understand how it truly works and what the real limits of that system or complex cocreation are.

Science would not be able to exist without the process of destruction. If we were not 'stressing' the systems around us under potentially dangerous conditions, we would not be able to test or understand them properly either.

Sometimes to know how strong something is, you actually need to know where, why, how, and when it breaks. If you don't know the limits and the parameters where the system becomes dysfunctional, malfunctioning, or inefficient, you don't really know your system.

We can assign real measurable and clear value to something only when we destroy it.

Paradoxically, it seems almost like the same concept in our more intimate worlds. Very often, you only realize how much something truly meant to you once you have already lost it. You can only understand the meaning of fragility once it has already been broken.

To fully know what you have created, it must be destroyed at some point. This is the deeper understanding of the transformation process.

As Lavoisier stated, nothing is created, nothing is destroyed, everything is transformed. But this also means that to transform, something must be created and something must be destroyed.

Our entire reality and our collective consciousness are in a constant process of transformation. In every instant, something is being created and something is destroyed.

Unconscious transformation is when you have no idea what you destroy and what you actually create.

Conscious transformation is where you know exactly what you put in your compost to be destroyed, and you very wisely select the seeds of the creation you want to plant the next season in your personal garden.

It's where you understand the deeper interconnection between destruction and creation.

One is impossible without the other.

The more you create, the more something else gets destroyed somewhere else. You need resources and energy to create something. Those resources need to come from somewhere. You need to recycle something old and something no longer useful to generate the required energy to create what you want to create next.

It could actually also be seen as a form of "sacrifice" by some. If you want to create a very big fire to generate a lot of energy or heat, you will need to sacrifice a couple of trees that have that energy stored inside them to make it happen. You need to burn some resources to get new energy.

Many processes in the universe involve cycles of transformation. There is absolutely nothing that is not recycled in this world. The only difference is how exactly the system is transformed, what is required for the process, and how long it takes to complete the full cycle of regeneration.

A proper Master is just a really good gardener.

They know exactly what they put in the soil, when, why, and how. They understand the macro cycles of transformation. They know that everything must die to be abundant again.

And they also know that Nature never really dies. She always transforms. She is in a constant process of rebirth and creation. She never stops. A wise gardener understands perfectly this paradox of death simply being a form or the strategy of the rebirth process.

If Nature always creates in every single moment, this actually means she also destroys something every single moment. The only difference between you and her is the fact that she knows exactly what to destroy or kill and why. But you, often, destroy your own creations or other people for no particular reason.

You build advanced and sophisticated cities, and you mindlessly destroy them during useless wars to build new but less efficient and even uglier cities. You write books and build churches for centuries, and you burn them to create more jobs and more fear in your population.

You destroy things you actually love, care for, and value.

You want to innovate and create. This is the new obsession of the world. Innovation will save us. Everyone must innovate and be a creator today. But not many realize the price they actually pay for their creations. Not many know what is being destroyed to give them the opportunity to create something new.

There is nothing wrong with innovation or creation. As mentioned before, you are constantly in the process of transformation, so whether you like it or not, something is being destroyed and created all the time. But if you have no idea of both what you create and what you destroy in your own life with your power of will, you might be very confused about the world we live in today.

If you don't understand that something must die to be born, you don't understand how nature works. She is eternal and immortal specifically because she has zero resistance to dying over and over again.

She knows exactly what she is doing, and she always does this systemically. She doesn't care to destroy because she already knows why she does it and what she will be creating out of it.

There is nothing wrong with destruction. It only becomes wrong if you don't know why or what exactly you destroy. It is wrong to destroy without creating anything even more beautiful or meaningful out of it.

It is wrong if you are completely unconscious of your authentic power of destruction or its natural process in your personal reality. If you think that your creativity, manifestations, and power come from an unlimited source or from God and nothing is being destroyed to give it to you, you still have a very naive and limited form of personal spirituality.

From one perspective, even the divine asks for something in return when we seek creation.

In this view, the divine could be seen as a masterful energetic orchestrator - not simply a source of unlimited gifts, but a wise teacher of the eternal dance of transformation. This perspective suggests that nothing can be manifested from void - something must always be transformed to create something new. When you seek creation, according to this understanding, there must be a sacred balance between what is created and what is transformed.

Consider the divine as the ultimate cosmic parent - but not the kind who endlessly provides without purpose. Rather, imagine a wise father or mother who understands that true love means teaching his children to stand on their own feet. This divine parent doesn't simply hand out fishes when we're hungry. They don't even just go fishing for us. Instead, they teach us the art of fishing itself - how to understand the waters, respect the cycles of nature, and participate consciously in the great web of giving and taking.

Why would such a divine parent operate this way? Perhaps because they, like any truly wise father and mother, dream of their children growing beyond even their own capabilities. They seek not eternal dependence, but the blossoming of fully sovereign beings who understand the sacred responsibility of creation.

Look deeper into this cosmic arrangement. The divine could be seen as the ultimate spiritual entrepreneur - not in a mundane commercial sense, but as one who deeply understands the economics of energy and transformation.

Every creation has its price, not as punishment, but as a fundamental principle of balance.

When we ask the divine for manifestation without understanding this principle, we're like children writing wishlist letters to Santa Claus - expecting gifts to materialize from nowhere, without any energetic exchange.

Imagine for a moment what would happen if the divine operated like a cosmic Santa Claus, simply fulfilling every wish without requiring understanding or transformation. The customer service department of the universe would be overwhelmed! But more importantly, we would remain eternal spiritual infants, never growing into our full potential as conscious co-creators of reality.

This might be why many spiritual traditions suggest that the divine's ultimate goal is to become "unemployed" - not in the sense of abandoning creation, but in the sense of raising us to such spiritual maturity that we no longer need external intervention for every desire.

The divine parent seeks to work themselves out of a job, just as every good parent hopes their children will one day fly freely with their own wings.

Think about it: you don't perpetually ask your parents to tie your shoelaces once you've learned to do it yourself. Similarly, why would you constantly seek external divine intervention once you've understood the principles of conscious creation and transformation? This is the essence of spiritual maturity - moving from dependence to interdependence, from asking for power to generating it within our own inner system.

This is not to say we never seek divine guidance. But there's a profound difference between asking how to fish and expecting fish to rain from heaven. The first acknowledges our potential for growth and participation in creation; the second keeps us in perpetual spiritual childhood.

A child, naturally, needs their parents to provide resources for growth. In early stages of development, there is indeed more creation than destruction - a child has nothing yet to transform, so they primarily receive and create. This is beautiful and necessary! We as a community willingly transform our own energy and resources to create space for our children's innocent creation.

But when children grow into adults, we expect them to understand the full cycle of transformation. They must learn that to create a garden, you must first clear the land. To build a house, trees must be transformed. To generate new energy, something must be transformed into fuel. This is not cruel - it's the fundamental wisdom of existence.

If you believe you can only create without destroying, you're still living in spiritual kindergarten. In the grand tapestry of existence, something is being transformed every time you create, whether you see it or not, whether someone else does the transformation on your behalf or not.

Those who seek deep spiritual wisdom understand this. They don't wish to remain eternal children in the divine household. They seek to become spiritual adults who understand both the responsibility and the art of conscious transformation. They know that true spiritual maturity means becoming sovereign co-creators who understand both the giving and taking inherent in all creation.

Perhaps the divine, like any fulfilled parent, is eager to see us graduate from spiritual dependence. Perhaps they tire of the endless role of cosmic daddy to needy children who refuse to grow up. Maybe their deepest joy would be seeing us become even more than they are - just as every wise parent dreams of their children surpassing them.

For isn't this the ultimate act of love - to raise beings who can stand as equals in the dance of creation? To nurture children who grow into such mastery that they no longer need to ask for fish, because they've become master fishers themselves. Perhaps this is the divine's greatest desire - not our perpetual dependence, but our evolution into fully accomplished, powerful, self-realized beings who understand the sacred art of transformation.

After all, what greater gift could a cosmic parent give than the knowledge and power to participate consciously in the eternal dance of creation and destruction? What greater love than teaching us to become divine ourselves?

...

In this contemplation, we have traversed the landscape of forbidden love, destruction, creation, and transformation. These concepts, seemingly distinct at first glance, reveal themselves as intimately interconnected threads in the fabric of our shared existence.

The forbidden love that shapes our personal and collective histories is itself a form of creative destruction - the death of what could have been giving birth to what is.

Just as Nature perpetually cycles through death and rebirth without resistance, perhaps our greatest evolution lies in embracing both the creative and destructive aspects of love.

When we deny love - whether through social constraints, fear, shame, or judgment - we resist the natural flow of transformation. Yet even this resistance serves a purpose, generating the very tension that fuels our growth, creativity, inner power, and ultimately, our deeper understanding of ourselves.

Consider how forbidden love manifests this principle of transformation in its purest form.

When we forbid love, we create an energetic tension - a force that either destroys existing structures or creates new pathways for expression. The Romeo and Juliets of our world don't merely suffer in silence; their forbidden love transforms entire family systems, challenges societal norms, and sometimes even reshapes cultural landscapes. The very act of forbidding love creates an opposing force of creative expression, whether through art, literature, social movements, or personal rebellion.

This forbidden aspect of love serves as perhaps our greatest teacher about the nature of transformation itself. When we look at our ancestors' stories of forbidden love, we see not just personal tragedies but the very mechanism through which societies evolve. Every time a love is forbidden, something must die - prejudices, traditions, identities - and from this death, something new is born - understanding, acceptance, broader definitions of love and family, or the opposite of it.

The divine, whether we call it God, Nature, or the universe, operates through this endless dance of creation and destruction patterns.

To mature spiritually is to recognize that we too are dancers in this cosmic ballet. We are not merely recipients of gifts from above but co-creators responsible for our own transformations. In this light, forbidden love becomes not just a source of pain and regret but a catalyst for consciousness - teaching us that true power lies not in endless creation or mindless destruction but in the wisdom to know when to hold on and when to let go.

The very pain of forbidden love carries within it the seeds of transformation.

When we feel the agony of saying "no" to love, we are experiencing the friction of transformation itself - the uncomfortable space between what was and what could be. This discomfort, this shame we discussed earlier, is not merely punishment for our choices but the energetic pressure that fuels the transformation process. Like a diamond formed under pressure, our consciousness expands through the very act of wrestling with these forbidden aspects of love.

Perhaps this is why forbidden love stories resonate so deeply across so many cultures and times.

They are not merely tales of star-crossed lovers but parables of transformation itself. They teach us that love, in its purest form, is a force of both creation and destruction, just as Nature herself is. When we forbid love, we are attempting to control this force, to dam its flow - but like water, it simply finds new channels, new forms of expression.

As we close this reflection, we might consider that the greatest act of love - whether to others, to ourselves, or to the divine - is the courage to participate fully in this cycle of our collective transformation.

To love without permission, to create consciously knowing something must be destroyed, to destroy accepting something new will be born - this is the way of Nature, the way of transformation, and perhaps the way to our own evolution.

In the end, forbidden love may be the very crucible in which we learn to become conscious participants in the eternal dance of creation and destruction, rather than mere subjects of its unconscious play.