Love — the fuel and the glue

(Primary emotion)

At a glance

What it’s saying: “This matters. Stay close.”
What it wants: Care, safety, and a life that’s better together than apart.
Use it well: Show up, tell the truth, do small kind things often.
Watch-outs: Calling control “love,” confusing drama for depth, or forgetting yourself.

Love

Love is the pull to care and be cared for. It’s the warm, steady feeling when you’re with your people; the spark that makes you want to build a life with someone; the quiet loyalty to friends, family, and place. It can feel soft (a hand squeeze) or fierce (protecting your kid). It grows in lots of forms — partners, mates, family, community — and the shape changes over time.

It’s not the same as lust (body-first, great but different), infatuation (fast, floaty, not-yet-tested), or attachment panic (love mixed with fear of losing). Naming it right helps you treat it right.

Love — Biogenic lens

Primary domain: Self-Production.

In the triad: Love is mainly for Self-Production—it drives reproduction and everyday recovery; touch and care refuel the system so growth is possible. It also stabilises how we live together (Self-Organisation) and speeds repair after strain (Self-Correction).

What it’s optimising:

Self-Production: Pair-bonding, sex, caregiving and everyday warmth refill the tank—better sleep, steadier mood, more stamina for long jobs and child-rearing. These aren’t extras; they’re maintenance.
Self-Organisation: Set fair rhythms for living together—who does what, how we share money and time, how we speak. Clear, kind rules keep the closeness stable.
Self-Correction: When there’s a wobble, love pulls you back to repair: admit it, apologise, make one change, and carry on. Small, fast repairs keep the system healthy.

How love feels in the body

Warmth in the chest, softer eyes, slower breath, loosening shoulders, a tilt toward the other person. Your body gets the message: safe enough to rest, playful enough to grow.

Common triggers & what they’re really about

Shared time: cups of tea, a walk, a long chat → need for attention and presence.
Care in action: someone remembers your thing, helps without fuss → need to feel valued.
Touch: hugs, leaning on a shoulder, a kid on your lap → need for comfort and closeness.
Making together: cooking, projects, raising kids, community work → need for meaning and teamwork.

Busy, hungry, sore, or stressed? Love signals get quieter. You have to send them on purpose.

Look-alikes (so you don’t treat the wrong thing)

Lust: brilliant, spicy, often fades fast without care. Works best as a teammate, not the boss.
Infatuation (“limerence”): daydreams, can’t eat, can’t sleep. Enjoy it, test it, don’t sign a mortgage in week two.
Clingy love: “I can’t be okay unless you’re here.” That’s fear talking. Build your own base as well.
Arm’s-length love: “I’m here, but not really.” If distance is your default, practise small risks of closeness.

How people have explained love (very briefly)

Some say love is our species’ way of keeping babies alive and adults cooperative. Others say it’s a set of habits — attention, care, honesty — that create the feeling. Either way, the practice is the same: notice, nurture, repair.

A clip that shows it well

Bluey — “Baby Race.” A short, sweet lesson in parental love: comparison, wobble, and a gentle repair. Or the opening of Up — a whole life of love in a few minutes: joy, loss, and carrying on. Watch for the small acts that do the heavy lifting.

Try this to build love on purpose

The 60-second “turn toward”

Spot a bid. A comment, a sigh, “look at this,” a text.
Turn toward it. “Tell me more.” “That’s great.” “Want a hand?”
Add one small piece of warmth. A touch, a smile, a thank-you.

Do that many times a day. It stacks.

The 10-minute “three specifics”

Say or write three specific things you appreciate about them today. Not “you’re amazing,” but “thanks for filling the water bottles,” “loved your text to Mum,” “that joke at dinner was gold.” Specifics stick.

The daily rep (keep the glue tacky)

Hello/Goodbye ritual (a real hug, not a drive-by).
Micro-date: 10–20 minutes of undistracted time.
Repair fast: if you nip at each other, circle back within 24 hours and fix it.

Using love without losing yourself

With yourself

Fill your own basics (sleep, food, friends, movement). A full person loves better.
Keep a couple of things that are yours — a hobby, a mate, a quiet hour.
Tell the truth early. Tiny lies rot love.

With family and partners

Fights are normal. Repair is the magic. “I’m sorry about how I spoke. Here’s what I’ll try next time.”
Share the load. If one person keeps score, the system’s off.
Touch every day: a six-second hug is a mood changer.

With friends and community

Show up when it counts: hospital visits, funerals, moving house, first nights on a new job.
Make small traditions — Friday swims, Sunday calls, birthday dumplings.

At work (the non-cringey kind)

Respect, kindness, backing your team. Notice effort. Share credit. Hold lines without being a jerk.

Myths to retire

“If it’s real, it’s effortless.” Good love is built, not found.
“Jealousy means passion.” Jealousy means fear. Talk it through; don’t worship it.
“If they loved me, they’d just know.” None of us are mind readers. Ask and tell.

Keep a simple eye on it (two-minute log)

Connection moments today: (number)
Missed bids I noticed: (number)
One repair I made: (what)
One thing they did that I named and thanked: (what)
Did we laugh? (yes/no)

Small measures keep love on the front burner.

When to worry (and what to do)

“Love” arrives with control — checking your phone, isolating you, money rules, threats.
You feel smaller around them: scared to speak, always wrong, walking on eggshells.
It’s a cycle: hurt → big apology → honeymoon → hurt again.

If that’s you: your safety comes first. Talk to your GP or a counsellor. If you’re in immediate danger, call 000. In Australia you can also call 1800RESPECT (1800 737 732) for confidential support.

A short story

Amita and Jo are fried. Two jobs, school lunches, never-ending laundry. They start sniping. Nights become phones and silence.

They try three things. A hello/goodbye ritual (one proper hug). A 10-minute micro-date after the kid’s in bed — phones down, cups of tea, one question: “What was good today?” And a 24-hour repair rule after blow-ups. It’s not fireworks, but the warmth returns. They still have bills and laundry; they also have each other back.

Wrap-up

Love isn’t magic. It’s the daily habit of care, attention and repair. Keep it small, honest, and often.