What do the ancient Greeks, mystics, and neuroscientists have in common?

A word: Agape.

In Greek, agápē means a love so vast it asks for nothing in return — divine, unconditional, universal.
But there’s another agápe: the mouth wide open in awe, in laughter, in a moment that stops time.

Both speak of radical openness.

This photo, taken in a moment of spontaneous laughter - became more than a portrait.
It reminded me that love doesn’t always look solemn.

Sometimes, it looks like surprise. Like surrender. Like joy that erupts through the body before the mind can explain it.

In systems thinking, we talk about thresholds. Transitions. The point where something gives way, and a new pattern can emerge.

That gap, the open mouth, the open heart, is where real change begins.

Not when we force it.
But when we allow it.

Has a moment of unexpected awe, joy, or stillness ever reorganized something inside you?

I’d love to hear it.