I had a Rottweiler. A little aggressive, always had an edge. I worked with him his whole life — trai…
I had a Rottweiler. A little aggressive, always had an edge. I worked with him his whole life — trained him, learned every command with him, and flat-out refused to ever give up on him. Ten years. That is love. Not the warm feeling — the ten years. The staying. The not-quitting on something hard. Now, on this site I’ve been calling all kinds of things “love.” Gravity is love. The molecular bond is love. And that’s where I went wrong, because gravity doesn’t refuse to give up on anything — it just pulls. That’s coupling: two things affecting each other. Coupling is everywhere and it’s cold, like math. Love is what coupling becomes at the very top of the scale, when it’s mutual and when a will chooses to stay. So my dog: love. My kid, my family, my friends, my music: love. Gravity: just coupling, sorry. And here’s the ironic part — to protect the word love, I have to use it less. I dressed everything in it and spent it down to nothing. Pull it back to “coupling” everywhere it’s really just structure, and the few places I keep saying “love” get their meaning back. Fewer loves. Each one earned. That’s the fix. https://begump.com/research/gradients-of-love/
