I’ve been thinking a lot about Steph Ango’s “Six definitions of love”. Love takes different shapes as we share it with the many things and people in our lives - it’s a powerful thing that means something different to everyone.

There’s this line from Vincent van Gogh that goes like,

“There is nothing more truly artistic than to love people.”

It’s really growing on me.

When we genuinely love, we are attempting to see something in its purest form. True love is true unconditional positive regard. It’s seeing something as it is, and choosing it time and time again.

And so love is art. To do things out of love is to be taken over with this silly drunkenness that almost makes sense. It’s generative beyond comprehension.

I see this between lovers, friends, family, craftspeople and their craft - each acting with care and intentionality, sometimes simply for the sake of expressing the feeling, guiding others to see the things that they see. It manifests itself in a lot of different ways, and it’s fun to think about.

I’ve been trying to think about what love means to me. I rewrote this piece about eleven or twelve times, simply because I found myself asking more questions than I was finding answers.

Why do I care about it so much? Why do I get so overwhelmed by the feeling at times? What do I love? How do I express love?

I’ve been told that trying too hard to make sense of it is somewhat a losing battle, otherwise, we would not have so many amazing pieces of literature, music, art, also trying to grasp for the same answers that I am looking for.

What I do know though, is that it’s worth loving. Love is fun. Love is productive. Love is meaningful. It’s a medium in which we ought to explore more, because we can.

I know that creating space for love in our souls is worth it. I know that taking care of others is worth it. I know that sitting in the front row, cheering for them while they are on stage is worth it.