Don't fall in love too fast. You think you know their dreams, but

The modern sage and storyteller Jay Shetty, whose teachings blend ancient wisdom with the rhythm of modern life, once said: “Don’t fall in love too fast. You think you know their dreams, but you just know their plans. Plans come from the head, but dreams come from the heart.” In these words lies a gentle but powerful reminder about the difference between appearance and essence, between what people say they seek and what their souls truly long for. It is a call to patience — to look beyond the masks of ambition and desire, and to seek the deeper pulse that reveals who a person really is. For love, in its truest form, is not born from what we understand of another’s mind, but from what we recognize of their heart.

Shetty speaks here as one who has walked both paths — the worldly and the spiritual. His wisdom draws from the ancient traditions of the monks and philosophers, who taught that true connection cannot be rushed, because the heart does not speak in haste. When he warns, “Don’t fall in love too fast,” he is not condemning love, but urging discernment. The world is full of those who can share their plans — the outlines of their ambitions, their careers, their goals — but few reveal their dreams, which are sacred reflections of their deepest values, hopes, and fears. Plans are born of the mind, crafted with calculation and purpose; dreams are born of the soul, shaped by longing and wonder. To know a person only through their plans is to know their surface. To know their dreams is to touch their essence.

The ancients understood this difference well. In the old world, marriages and friendships were not formed by quick passion but by time — time to watch how a person lived, how they spoke, how they endured hardship. A wise philosopher once said, “You do not know a tree by the shape of its leaves, but by the fruit it bears in season.” So it is with people: plans are like leaves — ever-changing, sometimes blown away by the winds of life. Dreams, however, are the roots that remain, the unseen forces that sustain a person through all storms. To fall in love with someone’s plans is to fall for their potential. To fall in love with their dreams is to fall for their truth.

Consider, for instance, the story of Mahatma Gandhi and Kasturba, his wife. When Gandhi first began his journey of reform, his plans were full of politics and ambition — to change laws, to shape nations. But it was Kasturba who saw deeper — she knew his dreams came from a purer place: the desire to serve humanity, to heal injustice through peace. She loved not the man of plans, but the man of heart. And when his plans failed, when the world misunderstood him, it was that understanding — of his dream, not his schemes — that kept their love unshaken. Her story teaches that when we fall for the dreamer, rather than the planner, our love can endure beyond success or failure.

Shetty’s words also warn of the danger of confusing intellect for intimacy. In the modern world, it is easy to mistake shared goals for shared purpose. Two people may walk the same road of ambition and yet travel in opposite directions of spirit. The plans of the mind can align temporarily; but if the dreams of the heart diverge, the union will fracture. True connection requires the courage to look beyond conversation into character, beyond vision into values. This is why Shetty urges patience — not because love should be delayed, but because understanding must be earned. Only time can reveal what is spoken by the heart but hidden from the lips.

And yet, his message is not cold or cautious. It is, at its heart, a celebration of love — but love grounded in wisdom. For when we take the time to discover another’s dreams, love becomes more than emotion; it becomes purpose shared. To know the dreams of another is to see the world through their eyes, to walk in step with their spirit. It transforms love from fleeting passion into sacred companionship. The ancients called this agape, or the love that uplifts the soul. Such love cannot be born in haste, for it grows only through stillness, listening, and understanding.

So let this be the lesson passed down: do not fall in love with what is planned, but with what is dreamed. Be patient enough to hear the whispers beneath a person’s words, to sense the desires that lie beneath ambition. Ask not what someone wants to build, but what they long to become. And in yourself, too, learn to share not just your plans, but your dreams — for they are the truest language of the heart.

For when two dreamers meet, when their visions spring not from pride but from purpose, then love becomes creation itself — a harmony of two souls shaping the same destiny. Plans may fade; dreams endure. The head can plot the path, but only the heart can choose the destination. And so, as Jay Shetty teaches, love slowly, love wisely, and love deeply — not for the plans of the moment, but for the dreams that live forever.