Unconditional Love in Dzogchen: The Practice of Showing Up

What does it mean to love unconditionally?

Most of us assume we know. We point to our family and close friends, and we think of a love that endures through mistakes, forgives faults, and cuts people some slack. But if we look closely, even this love is tied to conditions. We extend it only to those in our circle of closeness and support.

Ultimate love goes further. It means there is no circle. No inside and outside. No one forsaken.

So what does this love actually look like?

Ultimate love is not about being nice. It’s not sentimental. It’s not bound by conditions.

Ultimate love is presence. The unwavering capacity to show up, again and again, no matter what arises.

Think about it this way. The sun is like ultimate love: unbiased, boundless, shining everywhere equally. It doesn’t choose where to shine. It doesn’t say, “I’ll give light here but not there.” Its presence is constant.

But most of the time, we don’t notice its rays. The sky is bright, but the light itself is invisible. It is only when clouds appear that rays become visible–streaming through, making the sun’s light undeniable.

Sometimes the clouds are soft and beautiful, glowing with light. Sometimes they are dark and stormy, heavy with rain. But in both cases, it is the clouds that make the radiance visible.

In the same way, ultimate love is always present, but it often remains unseen. It is through the clouds of our lives–our challenges, our mistakes, even our conflicts–that the rays of love break through. Love doesn’t disappear when things get messy. In fact, it’s often in the stormiest times that its brilliance is revealed.

This love can appear tender, gentle, patient, and accepting. But it can also appear fierce, angry, intense, and uncompromising. The forms change, but the constant is presence.

Presence means: I will not look away. I will not collapse into myself when it’s uncomfortable. I will show up, even when it’s hard.

Ego can’t do that. Ego gets overwhelmed by its own state. It says, “I can’t deal with you right now, I’ve got too much going on.” That’s not ultimate love. That’s self-concern disguised as care.

Ultimate love doesn’t waver. It doesn’t choose. It doesn’t shut the door. It meets joy and sorrow, praise and blame, life and death, and keeps showing up.

This is why the teachings say awakened presence “overwhelms all that appears.” It’s not overwhelmed by the world. It overwhelms the world with its vastness.

That is unconditional love. Not a feeling. Not a mood. But the fierce and tender presence of Dharmakaya itself.