Love is the Only Prosperity

A few days ago, I came across a post from OpenAI’s CMO about leaving her role to fight a late-stage battle with cancer.

As I grow older, I realize that what truly gives joy—at least to me—is seeing joy in everyone around you. Even if you don’t know them. Even if you’ve barely met.

I interacted with someone online a few months ago. We started exchanging thoughts on some topic, and he apparently liked a few things I’d written. He sent me a message on Signal. We seldom interacted there and never met in person. Then one day, he messaged me with the news of his upcoming wedding—just like that, no preamble. That was the best news I heard all day. I felt a surge of happiness seeing him start a new chapter of life. Even though we were strangers, I couldn’t stop myself from feeling that warmth.

Whenever I see a post in my feed about someone passing away, it makes me go quiet for a while. Even if I didn’t know them. Because that’s one life that is no longer among us on this planet. One voice you can no longer read, hear, or talk to. One person I will never get the chance to meet. One life, simply gone.

A few years ago, I met someone in San Francisco—a random traveler from New York. My introverted nature usually keeps me to myself, but we were both waiting outside at the same time. One conversation led to another, and soon I found myself showing her the city.

Her flight was in three hours. It was even raining a bit. But some things have no reason; they just happen. Sometimes you get so comfortable with someone so quickly that time simply flows by. In those three hours, in the middle of the rain, I wanted to show her everything beautiful about my city. In that moment, I wanted to be with her more than the time allowed. I didn’t hesitate to drive her to the airport. She didn’t ask for it, but I wanted it—just for twenty more minutes to spend with her.

A few weeks later, I messaged her. Usually, I forget names and numbers remain in my phone, never to be accessed again. But her name was as fresh as the day we met. For the next two months, I found myself laughing at everything she messaged. She was funny, straightforward, yet feminine. She was quick to anger, but when you start liking someone, their anger magically becomes cute to you.

As the days progressed, I realized all I really wanted was to tease her, talk to her, laugh with her, and just see the best version of her.

Life, unfortunately, had its own plans. She walked away. I wanted to stop her, but I also knew that some things are beyond our control. I wanted to hear her voice every day—every time I woke up, and every time I went to sleep. When I close my eyes, I see her. When I open them, I wanted her to be there.

I never got to say these things to her. The situation was complicated. I didn’t know what she wanted, and I didn’t want to force the weight of my expectations onto her. But every day that went by, I just wanted to see her do well, irrespective of whether I was there or not. That is the only thing that remained from the beginning.

I finally said goodbye. But I didn’t really want to say it. I feared she’ll love somebody else. There’s no way to control the way the heart feels.

But there is a quiet, unconditional geometry to the heart—it wants the person you care for to find love, even if it isn’t yours. So they can be loved the way you always wanted to love them—even if you believed no one could have cared for them more than you. Seeing them loved is its own way of seeing them prosper.

You realize eventually that the only thing that really matters, the only thing you really need, is Love. Love for the other person.

An unconditional love for the life around you, with no expectations.

The love to see someone battle for their health and come out winning. The love to see someone entering a new phase of life. The love to see a child anywhere in the world fall asleep without fearing whether they’ll wake up to the sound of bombs. The love to know that a kid somewhere is worrying about what game to play tomorrow—not whether they’ll have a single meal to survive the day. Even the love to see yourself lose someone you really care for, yet still want the absolute best for them, wherever they go and whatever they do.

Right now, my heart feels heavy. It’s heavy seeing someone fighting just to keep their life—the most basic of human needs. It’s heavy knowing that right now, somewhere in the world, a child is going to sleep not knowing if they’ll see the morning. It feels heavy to say goodbye to someone you wanted to hold on to just a little longer.

But this is the heart’s way of saying that love is all that matters in the end. It is all you should strive for. It’s beautiful, it’s painful, it’s joyful, and it’s quiet—yet it is profound. Most importantly, it forces the best out of you for everyone around you.

Because whenever the heart grows heavy, love will always find its way.