The Origin of Real Love

I've been asked many times how Real Love began. How did I think of it? What books did I read? Who were my teachers?

For forty years of my life I created success by relying on my intellectual and emotional skills. If I wanted "more," I just worked harder. And I had a great deal: all the money, power, success, admiration, and possessions I had ever wanted. But I was not happy--not deep down peaceful—and that became very discouraging. I used drugs. I was depressed and even suicidal.

I looked for the origin of happiness everywhere I could think of. I went to counseling, group therapy, support groups, drug treatment centers, 12-step groups, seminars, and more. I went to church. I read the Bible and prayed. I talked to people.

Nothing. I couldn't find a single soul I thought was truly happy, nor anyone who could describe how that might be achieved. So I gathered a group of friends together, and we experimented—with books, techniques, rituals, whatever. We threw out anything that didn't cause a real change in our hearts. It wasn't enough that something was interesting or entertaining. No, it had to really make a change in how we thought and felt.

We finally realized that none of the conventional approaches worked, but after a year or so of meeting like this I recognized that the relationships of the men in the group had become a real treasure. We were becoming closer. We were happier. Why? We noticed that we experienced moments of real peace most often when we simply shared how we felt, how we thought, and who we really were with the other men. We were happier when we were truthful and felt accepted.

I realized that the greatest purpose in life was to become genuinely happy, and if I didn't have that kind of happiness, I didn't know anything. I looked in the mirror and said, "You don't know anything. Nothing. IF you did, you'd be happy. Are you willing to learn?"

So I decided to make a leap of faith. I just gave up my opinions and simply listened. I knew there had to be an answer, and I didn't know how to find it on my own, so I humbled myself—as much as a proud, foolish man can—and quieted my mind to a place where I could just listen. And the answers came. Concepts, stories, metaphors, and more came into my mind. I'm not talking about channeling, where voices speak or exact passages might appear. I'm saying that the frameworks of ideas and patterns became clear, and then it was my job to put them into sentences and paragraphs. I carried a notepad everywhere, writing down these ideas as I walked, sat, even rollerbladed.

I first wrote a single page of ideas, and we implemented them in our group. We practiced intentionally telling the truth about ourselves, not certain of what would happen. It worked. I suggested a definition of Real Love. It made sense. I wrote several pages and the outline of a seminar that we shared with other men. More success, so we invited people from all over North America. It still amazes me that we had the courage to do all that.

What was the source? What is the source to this day? You can call it what you want. I have no need to prescribe to anyone what their "higher power" or divine source might be. You can call it God, or Allah, or the Spirit, or the Universe. But it's very real, and now I write only when I have the feeling of that influence. If I don't, I stop writing. I know the truth of it because the principles work, and because in all these years I've never had to go back and change what I wrote when I was in that receptive mode.

Real Love is simply true, universally so, and I'm grateful for the profound changes it has made in my life and in the lives of millions of others. And I'm grateful for the Source of these ideas and this power.