I am alive to love, and I am unavailable for anything less than love. The way of love is my favorite high-priority subject, serving as my North Star and my lifelong commitment that I am not on this earth for hate, nor am I breathing, eating, and sleeping to regain energy for causing pain. Everything else devolves into BS, and walking this path has been an imperfect leaning into gravity, hoping it keeps pulling me forward as I stumble, bumble, skip, and sometimes limp along this way. Sometimes to inspire people, you have to aggravate them first to stir them to life to consider how to move their thoughts toward something better. Trappist monk Thomas Merton aggravated me when he said medieval talk about love does nothing and that we must admit we do not know the meaning of love in any context, ancient or new. Here in 2026, as millions exit the church, we cannot address this decline through culture wars or by using "truth" as an excuse to abuse; love is not a license to say whatever the heck I want to say, but the way of living with people, not against them. The way of love is a long, lifelong walk in one direction—a meditation, a contemplation, and a pilgrimage where we seek discoveries along the way. It invites us away from constant external input and noise into an internal silence where we ask ourselves: what does the way of love look like for Randy Dean today? In the way of love, I listen, seek to understand rather than be understood, and ask what it is about me that prevents me from loving thee, choosing to become a lover of all humankind rather than proving how right I am and how wrong you are. The biggest mistake we're making is thinking we got time, but I'm asking you to join me: be present, be kind, love more, love now. Slow it down, breathe deep, and embrace the practice of looking people in the eye and saying, "I love you," even if it feels awkward, weird, or startling. Ugly is getting done to death, so go out there and do something beautiful, be the people of beauty, and love everyone you meet.
