The Absence of Love

After the rally today, I felt something shift. Seven million hearts stood up, and the world didn’t crumble. No fires, no riots, no American carnage. Just people breathing, chanting, hoping. It struck me: when love gathers, fear loses its audience.

For years, the president has preached that passion leads to chaos, that when people rise up, darkness follows. But he is wrong. Passion doesn’t destroy; it rebuilds what fear has broken. It is the self-serving rich who thrive on fear. They need hate to keep their hands clean, to distract from the greed that feeds their gold. The president leans into fear because it is the only language he speaks. He sells suspicion like it is salvation, turning neighbors into enemies, truth into noise and love into weakness. It is not leadership. It is addiction to applause, to power, to pain.

And yet I cannot bring myself to hate him. I feel sorry for those who live inside his shadow, for the ones who think rage is strength, who confuse cruelty with conviction, who believe love is soft because they have never felt its weight.

They walk through life armored but empty, afraid to admit that peace feels better than control.

Our society has been sold the lie that hate is patriotic. But love is the revolution. It is the only thing strong enough to silence a mob, to fill the hollow spaces left by greed, to remind us that compassion is not weakness, it is survival.

What I saw today was not chaos.

It was clarity. Millions of us standing together, proving that when love shows up, the world does not fall apart.

It finally starts to heal.