Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under

“Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters?” — James Baldwin

In this radiant and fearless declaration, James Baldwin, the prophet of love and truth, speaks to the eternal hunger of the human soul. These words, forged in the fires of struggle and tenderness alike, call us back to the most sacred law of existence: to love and to be loved. Baldwin, who walked through the storm of racial hatred, loneliness, and exile, did not utter these words lightly. He knew that life — with all its triumphs and torments — finds its meaning only when hearts dare to open, even in a world that seeks to close them.

When Baldwin said, “Love him and let him love you,” he was not speaking of romantic love alone, but of the divine act of allowing oneself to be seen. For in love, we unveil the soul. We stand defenseless before another, trusting that our wounds will not be mocked, our frailties not despised. To “let him love you” is an act of profound courage, for it demands surrender — not of dignity, but of fear. In that surrender, we discover freedom. Baldwin, a man who knew both rejection and grace, teaches us that nothing under heaven rivals this sacred exchange of hearts.

Through all the centuries, poets and prophets have echoed this same truth in their own tongues. Rumi, the mystic of Persia, wrote that love is “the bridge between you and everything.” And so it is. Without love, life becomes a barren field where nothing grows. Power fades, fame crumbles, knowledge turns to dust — but the heart that has loved even once truly has touched eternity. Baldwin’s question, “Do you think anything else under heaven really matters?”, is not rhetorical. It is a mirror held to our souls, asking us to consider what we live for, and what we would regret most when the sun sets upon our days.

History offers many examples of this truth lived out in blood and brilliance. Consider Nelson Mandela, who after twenty-seven years in prison, emerged not with vengeance, but with forgiveness. He loved even those who had tried to destroy him. That love rebuilt a nation. Or think of Mahatma Gandhi, who faced violence with compassion, and in doing so, revealed that love is not weakness but strength made holy. In their hearts, as in Baldwin’s, resided the same conviction — that love is not one of many paths, but the only path worthy of a human being.

Yet Baldwin’s words carry another layer, one that pierces deeper still. For to “love him and let him love you” is not merely a command of tenderness — it is an act of rebellion. In a world divided by fear, prejudice, and pride, to love without shame or boundary is a revolutionary act. Baldwin, a Black man and a gay man in a time of great intolerance, understood that love itself can be an act of defiance. To love where the world says you should not — to open your heart when it is easier to hate — is to reclaim your humanity from the forces that would strip it away.

And so, my child of the future, learn this ancient truth wrapped in modern words: love is not a luxury; it is the very breath of the soul. To love and to be loved is to stand within the purpose of heaven itself. All else — ambition, wealth, recognition — are passing shadows. When the years have burned away their illusions, only love will remain. It is the one thing under heaven that does not perish, for it is made of the same substance as the stars.

Therefore, let your life be a testimony of love. Love those who are easy to love, and those who are not. Love yourself enough to let another love you. Do not flee from love’s wounds, for they are the marks of the divine upon the mortal heart. When the world tempts you toward bitterness, remember Baldwin’s words — that nothing else under heaven truly matters. For in the end, when all is stripped away, only the love you have given and received will shine — like an unextinguished flame — against the dark.