Love is a Verb

Love Is a Verb

We often speak of love as a feeling.

Something we fall into.

Something we hope to receive.

Something we name in poetry and promise in ceremony.

But love, in its deepest expression, is not just a word.

Love is a verb.

It is an action.

A posture.

A choice made again and again in the ordinary moments of our lives.

In every moment, we are either loving or not.

There is no neutral ground.

Love lives in how we speak.

In how we listen.

In whether we pause before responding.

In whether we choose understanding over being right.

Love is present in our tone.

In our breath.

In the way we move through a room.

In the way we hold silence.

From the Kwanzaa principle of Ujima — Collective Responsibility, we are reminded that love is not abstract. It is lived through how we carry our portion of the whole. Love is repair instead of blame. Love is accountability rooted in care.

Buddhist practice teaches that love begins with awareness. If we are not present, we cannot love fully. When we return to the breath, we return to the possibility of compassion. Each moment offers a new chance to respond with kindness rather than habit.

And Taoist wisdom reminds us that love flows best when it is not forced. Love does not dominate or control. It aligns. It moves with life. It softens where softness is needed and stands firm where integrity requires it.

Love as a verb asks something of us.

It asks that we:

Speak with intention.

Act with humility.

Show up when it is inconvenient.

Choose generosity over defensiveness.

Reflect light rather than amplify darkness.

Love is not something we wait to feel.

It is something we practice.

In every breath, we either close or open.

In every word, we either build or break.

In every interaction, we either mirror fear or mirror light.

To live the Three Mountains Way is to remember that love is not a someday ideal.

It is this moment.

This breath.

This choice.

And the next one.

— Fusatsu, Apriel L. Jessup-Searcy