1. A Quiet Phrase That Changes Everything

One morning, the phrase “I am pure” arose like a small light in the mind.
When it was repeated inwardly — “I am pure and well.” — the body softened and a gentle
warmth appeared. The phrase did not feel like an affirmation trying to persuade or
improve anything. It felt more like a recognition of something that had always been true
beneath the layers of fear and self-judgment.

“I am pure” is not a denial of our human history, mistakes, or pain. It is a way of
naming the deeper truth of awareness itself — the clear, spacious knowing that has
never been damaged by anything that has happened. When this is sensed, even very
briefly, the nervous system receives a different message: “Perhaps I am more than
my old stories about being broken, wrong, or not enough.”

“I am pure and well.”
“Love is everything.”
“Nothing true in me can be ruined.”

The Language of LOVE is a collection of phrases that unfold from this simple insight.
They are not meant to be chanted mechanically, but to be tasted slowly — with the same
tenderness you would offer to a frightened child.

2. “I Am Pure” and the Deep “I AM”

Many contemplative traditions speak of the sacred words “I AM.” In these teachings,
“I AM” points beyond the personality to the simple fact of being — the presence that
is aware before it says anything about itself. When we say “I am pure” in the spirit
of PureMind, we are not decorating the personality with a new label. We are gently
turning back toward that original, wordless being and allowing it to name itself as
goodness.

“I am pure” can be heard as a soft echo of the deeper “I AM”:

• “I AM” — the bare presence of awareness, before any story.
• “I am pure” — awareness expressing its own innocence and wholeness
  through human language.

Used this way, the phrase becomes a doorway, not a slogan. We don’t force ourselves to
believe it. We simply offer it as a kind invitation and let the body show us how much
it can receive in this moment.

3A. Deeper Commentaries on the Language of LOVE

The phrases in this collection arose from several foundational insights about the nature
of awareness and love. The commentaries below give language to those insights, not as a
rigid doctrine, but as a set of gentle pointers.

Truth and Intention

When we speak to ourselves, the nervous system is listening. Words that are not rooted
in truth tend to create more tension, even if they sound positive. The Language of LOVE
aims to be both truthful and kind. A phrase like “I am pure and well” is not a claim
that every part of life is fixed or perfect. Rather, it reflects the deeper truth that
there is a dimension of us — awareness itself — that remains whole even as healing is
unfolding.

The intention behind these phrases is not self-improvement, but self-remembering. We are
not trying to become worthy. We are remembering that our worth was never actually in
question.

Undefined and Undefended

The mind tries very hard to define and defend a fixed identity: “I am this kind of
person”; “I am someone who always fails”; “I am the one who was abandoned.” PureMind
invites a different possibility: that we can rest as an awareness that does not need to
defend itself to exist.

When a phrase like “I am pure” is repeated slowly, you may notice both softness and
resistance. The resistance is often the defended identity saying, “But look at everything
that happened. How can you call me pure?” The practice is to meet this defense with love:
“Yes, you are trying to keep me safe. Thank you. And still, something deeper in me is
quietly pure.”

Unborn and Undead

Awareness itself is sometimes described as “unborn” and “undying” — not because the
body will not die, but because the knowing of experience is here before every story and
remains after every story passes. The Language of LOVE leans into this sense of
timelessness. When we say “I am pure,” we are, in a way, letting the unborn, untouched
quality of awareness speak through a human mouth.

This can bring a surprising sense of safety: “Even in the middle of change and loss,
something in me is not collapsing. Something steady is holding all of this.”

From Personal Peace to Universal Compassion

Many people notice what you have described: when speaking a phrase for oneself, there is
warmth and ease. When extending a blessing to all beings, contraction arises. This is
deeply understandable. For a nervous system that has known pain, “all beings” can feel
overwhelming. The body may associate “others” with threat, history, or obligation.

Instead of forcing the universal phrase, we can honor this contraction as a sign of
sensitivity. We might begin with a very small circle — one trusted friend, a beloved
animal, or a tree that feels safe — and gently widen from there. Over time, as the
nervous system feels more secure, the blessing can grow without feeling like an
impossible burden.

The journey from personal peace to universal compassion is not a leap; it is a series of
gentle steps, each one blessed and welcomed.

4. The Language of LOVE — Phrases and Reflections

Below are sample phrases from the collection. You are invited to take one phrase
per day, sit quietly for a few minutes, and let the words move from the head into
the body. Notice what responds — warmth, resistance, tears, numbness — and gently
include it all.

1. I am pure and well.

This phrase points to the untouched core of your being. “Pure” here does not mean
morally perfect; it means original, unspoiled, whole. “Well” does not deny pain; it
names the deeper okayness of awareness itself.

Journaling prompt: When I say “I am pure and well,” what sensations arise in my
body? Where do I notice ease? Where do I notice doubt?

2. This awareness is safe.

Many of us do not yet trust our own inner space. Thoughts may feel dangerous, emotions
may feel like enemies. This phrase reminds the nervous system that the awareness
noticing all of this is not against us; it is a safe home we can return to.

Journaling prompt: What would change if my inner space felt more safe and kind?

3. Nothing true in me can be ruined.

Our stories, roles, and identities can be shaken or taken away. But the deepest truth of
who we are — the loving awareness that knows this moment — cannot be ruined by anyone’s
opinion or any past event.

Journaling prompt: Which parts of me feel fragile, and which parts feel quietly
indestructible?

4. I do not have to fix myself to be held in love.

The healing journey often begins with the belief, “Once I fix myself, then I can rest.”
This phrase turns that belief upside down. It suggests that being held in love is
actually what allows real change to unfold, not the reward we get after we have
completed it.

Journaling prompt: In what ways have I been postponing love until I am “better”?

5. Every part of me is welcome in awareness.

Instead of pushing away anger, fear, shame, or confusion, we are learning to say,
“You, too, belong in this field of awareness.” This does not mean acting out every
impulse. It means nothing has to be exiled from the healing light of presence.

Journaling prompt: Which part of me finds it hardest to believe it is welcome?

6. I can feel this and still be safe.

For many of us, intense emotion was once linked with real danger. Today, the feeling may
still trigger the same alarm, even when our outer situation is safer. This phrase gently
separates the two: “I can feel this and be safe now.”

Journaling prompt: What feeling has I avoided because it seems too dangerous?

7. I am not my thoughts; I am the awareness that knows them.

Thoughts are visitors. Awareness is the home. When we identify completely with a painful
thought, suffering intensifies. When we remember that we are the space in which thoughts
arise and pass, we have more room to respond wisely.

Journaling prompt: Choose one recurring thought. How does it feel to see it as a
visitor, not your identity?

8. Even my contractions are trying to protect me.

Tightness in the body often carries a protective intention. Instead of treating these
contractions as enemies, we can meet them as loyal—if sometimes confused—friends. This
softens inner conflict and opens the possibility of new ways of protecting ourselves.

Journaling prompt: What might this tightness be trying to keep me safe from?

9. I am learning to trust kindness more than fear.

For years, fear may have felt like the most reliable guide: “If I worry enough, maybe I
will stay safe.” This phrase marks a shift of allegiance. We begin to experiment with
letting kindness, not fear, have the final word in our choices.

Journaling prompt: Where in my life could I let kindness, not fear, guide one small decision?

10. Love is everything.

This phrase does not deny suffering; it points to a deeper truth: that the ground of
reality is loving, that even our longing to heal is an expression of love. When we sit
quietly with “Love is everything,” some part of the heart often recognizes it as
something already known.

Journaling prompt: What happens in me when I gently repeat, “Love is everything,” especially on a difficult day?

The full collection continues in this spirit, gradually widening from personal healing
to blessings that include all beings, at a pace that feels respectful to your nervous
system. You are invited to move slowly, repeat favorite phrases, and let your own
language of love emerge alongside these words.

5. A Simple Daily Rhythm

You might like to create a 28-day or 40-day journey with these phrases. Each day:

1. Choose one phrase and read it aloud three times.
2. Sit quietly for 3–5 minutes, noticing what arises in your body.
3. Write a few lines in your journal, beginning with “Today, this phrase feels…”
4. Carry the phrase gently in your heart through the day.

There is no right way to do this. Your sincerity is the practice. The rest will unfold
in its own timing.