This is the second in a series exploring 12 virtues that can liberate artists from cultural enslavement.

ATTEND

People are horrible. They’re mean, selfish, they take your parking spot, they don’t listen, they’re ugly, cruel, stupid, sad. And pathetic. They are a mess.

We don’t want to love others because they are so horrible. They do ugly things, selfish things, they take things from us, we resent them. They are not good enough, they are not living up to their potential, they are not being good people. They don’t get our love!

This natural, powerful reaction to the cruelty with which we act towards each other is a self-perpetuator. Our hatred becomes stronger, and sends hateful messages out. They see our hateful messages and feel justified in hating us. It is a very powerful, very dark cycle. It is the cycle of a Pinter play. Darkness upon darkness upon darkness into oblivion.

Love is a a connector. It bridges us to others, to the world outside of us. Without love as a bridge, we use other means. Guilt and shame are bridges. Guilt creates social norms based on fear of punishment, fear of being bad. Shame creates compliance by using power dynamics to force a weaker party to absorb judgement from the outside and internalize it.

Without love we need much more structure, much more hierarchy, much more doctrine, because we need to control. We need to control others to get the outcomes we want. Without love as the bridge, others are objects. Others are means to an end. Others are competition. Others are competing with us in a zero sum game, and it is better for us to win.

A world without love is a world of cynicism – assuming peoples’ most selfish motivations are the only real ones. A world without love for other is a world of exploitation. Exploitation as a means of survival. Survival of the fittest. Survival of the most dominant. At best there is tolerance, at worst there is genocide.

A world without love for other is a cold world. A world only of transaction, a world of shared interests only, a world of disgust for other.

I grew up in a family where the dominant connecting force was guilt. While there were words of love from the dominant forces, they were always with caveats of control. I love you, now do this thing for me. I love you, if you do as I wish and behave as I wish you to behave.

My older brother was cast out of the house when he was seventeen. Disowned. His conduct was not acceptable to my mother, he was “no longer her son.” This sent a message to me as a younger person (I was ten at the time). It said that love was conditional, and that stepping out of line would result in excommunication, severing. My mother made it clear over and over that love would be given if tasks were done correctly. We (my twin brother and sister) had to work according to her direction, and then we would be accepted. We had to be what she wanted us to be, and then we would be loved.

Whenever any of us have stepped outside of this lane, we have been iced out. No contact, no interest from her, no love. Without service to her aims, there is no relationship. My older brother never recovered from his excommunication. I’m trying to recover by doing this work – and by prioritizing love even when control seems more of an obvious, and expedient path.

When we love conditionally, we are essentially serving our human egos, and forcing others to meet our ego’s desires. We are living in a small, enslaving dynamic, and are cutting ourselves off from more transcendent energies, and cutting off the other as well by creating a dynamic where they do not feel they can be honest, authentic, expressive, or true. Love is the conduit for the soul. When love stops, only egos remain.

ENVISION

A breakthrough moment happened for me when I read Keith Johnstone’s Impro. He talked about mantras as helpful ways to get the rational mind out of control. To allow more room for spontaneity, for the instinctual to emerge and have space, have reign. He talked of using nursery rhymes, etc. But he also talked about using the mantra “I love you.”

“I love you” as a mantra, said silently, internally, creates a transformation in the artist. It builds a silent bridge with the other person on stage. It makes a path of love, of benevolence, of good will, of hope, of space. A benevolent container. Johnstone said If you ever had an actor playing the role of Jesus Christ, you should have them use this mantra. A halo – a soft spot light will seem to appear on them onstage. The benevolence will radiate out. The bridge will be made to the audience as well.

The virtue Love of Other is about love as a connector – love as the bond. By connecting to love, we are connecting to a transcendental value – a mystical power that is beyond the human ego, beyond our rational mind and our selfish desires. We are becoming a channel for a sublime power. An instrument of it.

Imagine love for other as a bridge – a golden bridge that extends between you and them. It is a bridge of benevolence, of kindness, of support, of acceptance. The acceptance of self that is developed in the virtue 1 becomes a foundation for extending to the other. When self love exists, there is a well of abundance that can extend out, across.

The Qi Gong cultists did a lot with Love of Other. Love was the way to relate, the way to connect, the way to open up paths of healing. They did a great exercise where you would hold out your arm and someone else would pull it down, successfully. Then, you would touch your own arm and say, “I love you my arm. Thank you, my arm. I appreciate you. I love you, my arm”. Then the partner would try to pull it down, and the arm would have double or triple the strength. Without any extra effort.

The exercises extended to each other, where the healing that that work provided (similar to Reiki) was essentially a love transfer, heart to heart. The bridge of love could literally be felt, a warm energy in the palms, a generous, abundant energy being channeled from the universe through us to the other.

“Delight your partner” was something I learned from William Hall in improvisation. Rather than focusing on your own cleverness or your own greatness, skill, etc, focus on delighting your partner. What would they like right now? What would light them up? What would excite them? What do they need? Rebecca Stockley observes that learning to improvise is like falling in love. The qualities we find in good improvisation are the qualities of falling in love with someone.

Love of other is acceptance of other. As they are now. There is room for them to grow, room for them to change, room for them to be themselves. Love for other is not control. Love for other is an extension of freedom, an extension of support for their genuine becoming.

I do want to draw a distinction. The love that I’m talking about is non-binding. The love that I want to advocate for in this virtue is not about control, transaction, exchange, or contract (perhaps this is obvious, perhaps not). It is not about payment or being fair, and loving someone does not force them into a contract to love you. “I love you” as a conditional statement waiting for the other person to say “I love you too” is not what I’m talking about here, a kind of transactional security blanket. That just has the potential to create further forms of enslavement.

The security I’m interested in is the contact with love itself. The other person belonging to you or owing you love is not it.

Love is open handed. It is not a form of control, it is not a device of control, it is not a device of enslavement.

Love softens the ground. Love makes for space and agency and beauty to emerge naturally, primordially from the other. Love for other is a blessing, like water on a plant. Indeed the goal of love of other is their freedom, authentic expression, and genuine flourishing.

With love for other, there can be deep listening from a place of complete acceptance. There can be seeing a person’s essential nature, beneath the persona. There can be witnessing without trying to change or fix. There can be holding space for their highest potential.

Seeing what they cannot yet see in themselves. Creating conditions for their emergence. Knowing when to step back. Celebrating their independence. By offering loving acceptance to another, you are making a space where that persona of protection and performance is no longer needed.

There is a powerful paradox at work here. By truly accepting the other, you are creating a space for them that is so psychologically safe that they can emerge as their authentic, primordial self. Our defenses and false personas are reactions to psychological peril. They are the shields and masks of a frightened child trying to survive in a terrifying world. By offering loving acceptance to another, you are making a space where that persona of protection and performance is no longer needed. Their essential nature can emerge.

As a director, my task is to love the actor and see them as they are, now, and accept them, AND to see the essential nature underneath, ready to emerge, ready to ascend. In many ways the task is subtractive, that the layers of persona-defense can fall away, and reveal the true nature of the artist. The essential, primordial nature that was there all along, just somewhat buried in conditioned defenses.

I am not forcing another artist into my ideal version of them, making a master/slave dynamic of dominance and authority. I am not trying to get them to conform. Instead, I am seeing deeper, and helping them to remember their authentic self, and free them from the false roles they have learned to play. My job is to make an environment of such safety that their authentic creative nature is able to emerge. In this way we can then look into the natures of the characters we are exploring too – not from a place of judgement or rationalization, but of love. A love that can see the humanity and the vulnerability even in the villains, the vicious ones.

Working on Pinter is a prime example. His characters are horrible people, on the surface. They are wounded and scarred and inflict terrible scarring and wounding on each other. There is no need to mince words for how horrible Pinter’s characters are to each other – they dehumanize each other, abuse each other, and commit unspeakable violence. But, if we see the Pinter characters only as monsters, they remain at arms length, and no transformation is possible. This is not art, this becomes only a horror show.

I participated in a workshop on unscripted Pinter at Bats. What was remarkable was that by going in slowly, with honesty and self care and self love, and also with love and care for the other players, the other performers, and respect, the menace, the cruelty, the violence of the characters softened. They became aspects of humanity that could be explored, worked with, delved into, rather than avoided or stigmatized. It took great care and time to build the capacity in that workshop. We did not jump in. We descended carefully, slowly, progressively, until by the end we were able to sustain the darkness of an authentic Pinter situation without self harm, and without harm to our fellows. We were able to explore the darkness as Artists.

This acceptance and love becomes a liberator. The artists then become more free to be who they truly are. They are shown in the experience that they are lovable, they are acceptable, they are good. As they are. And the enslaving dynamics of control and guilt can be released. And their primordial self can emerge.

Love says, “who are you? Who are you really? I’m curious to know you, I’m curious to help you and encourage you. I support you, I appreciate you, I accept you, I wish the best for you.”

Love of other is also a form of surrender. It is surrendering the impulse to change the other.

Ultimately this is the “love thy neighbor” ethos of the New Testament. It is a benevolent love, accepting others despite their differences, and making room for them to flourish. Philosophically it is working on the principle that others will move toward their authentic nature if they are in an environment of love. If you surround a person (child or adult) with benevolent love, they will be in a better place to move toward their authentic becoming.



Phil Stutz has some great exercises around love. One of them turns you into a canon that literally shoots a beam of unconditional love to another person and makes a bond of union with them – and this is to be used particularly if there are difficulties and blocks. Love can dissolve blocks.

Love can dissolve hate. Literally. It can be done. But it must be chosen for most of us. those of us who have been used or made to transact. We must choose a different way. All of these virtues are choices. They all must be practiced.

Your enemy will literally transform into your brother before your eyes. If you can do it, choose it, practice it, remember it.

A note about boundaries: Virtue 5: Courage will explore boundaries and truth telling, self protection and protection of the vulnerable. The virtue of Love of Other is not meant to create artists who are jumping on grenades. One can love another and still leave a situation. There are practical balances to be struck in personal lives, and in professional collaborations. Love of others can exist and boundaries can exist together. In the Pinter workshop we developed a “time out” gesture so that anyone who felt the work was becoming too dark or triggering could call a time out and we could pause the scene and decide if we were going to sub in someone else or let the scene end there and process it.

Love of Other also operates under the assumption that you will be better off too. Because you will not be in a place of zero sum competition with everyone you know. It enables you to connect with love. It enables you to collaborate with love. It enables you to be generous and magnanimous because love is your bridge. Love is a transcendent quality or power, and by connecting with it and sending it to the others around you, you are participating in a transcendent process – you are spreading love, you are a messenger of love, a conduit of love. This is a blessing for you an a blessing for everyone around you.

When we love others conditionally, we are enslaving them to our desires and ego needs, we are perpetuating a cynical, sad world of lack and zero sum competition.

When we love others as they are, we are freeing them to serve their transcendent source, and inviting them into that collaboration as a fellow traveler.

DIRECT

SOLO

The Jesus Mantra

Internally, sincerely, say the words “I Love You”. Say it when doing things alone, when around others, when thinking of others. It is a transforming mantra.

Integration: How do you feel when you say this mantra? How might this mantra affect your art work?

The Loving-Kindness Exercise

Imagine a person you wish to send love to.
Think of them, and say, “May this one feel safe. May this one feel happy. May this one feel healthy. May this one feel a sense of ease.”
Repeat this as many times as needed. Return to it.

Integration – what is the feeling after saying this prayer over and over? How does it shift your sense of the other?

PAIRS

Note: Consent is needed in working with others. Talk through the exercise and make sure it is acceptable for either party to “time out” or stop the exercise for any reason.

The Love Scene (where you can’t say I love you)

Begin a scene where both parties desperately want to say I love you, but just can’t. The whole time it is right beneath the surface. It could be two co-workers who have found themselves in the break room together. Two brothers who have not seen each other in a long time after an estrangement. A mother and child and the child is going away to school, or to the army, or on a mission to mars.

Integration:
What was it like being so close to saying it but not being able to?
How did the scene appear to the audience (if there is any)?
How might this affect your collaborations? Your relationship to those who view your work?

The What comes next? Game

2 or more people, one person is the “storyteller” and they get to say either, “what comes next?” Or “nope!” with a benevolent tone.
The other person or people supply story ideas. If the storyteller likes the idea, they say what comes next. If they don’t they say “nope!” and the other must supply a new idea.
“You’re walking in a forest”
“What comes next?”
“You see a princess crying on a rock.”
“What comes next?”
“She looks up to you and extends her hand.”
“What come next?”
“She pulls a gun on you.”
“Nope!”
“She offers a flower.”
“What comes next?”
Etc.

Note, if you have 3 players, after each “nope!” alternate to the other person to offer ideas. This makes it very easy to switch off and for those generating ideas to not get attached to the story.

Integration:
Helper: Did you see the difference in what delighted your partner? Did you start to get the feel for what kind of adventure they wanted?
Storyteller: Did you feel obligation to say what comes next even if you didn’t want to?
How might this affect your art practice? What if you played this game with your own ideas?

GROUPS

Note: In group work, talk openly and clearly about consent and boundaries before hand. Explain the exercise and the intent, and always make it easy and acceptable for people to “time out” or opt out.

The Madding Crowd

Walk around casually with the mantra “I hate you” as you make eye contact, avoid them, etc.
Now change the mantra to “l love you”
Observe what changes. Observe it in yourself and in the others.
Note: You can do this privately in public as well.

Integration: What does your body do in relation to the mantra? How does it change when you alternate back and forth? How might this affect the way you relate with collaborators? viewers of your work? Gatekeepers like agents and buyers?

Advanced version: One half of the group holds mantra “i love you” the other half “I hate you.” Then alternate.

The See-Saw scenes

Play scenes where one starts with “I hate you” and moves slowly to “I love you”.
Try keeping it secret (it won’t be that secret to the audience :).
Integration: How did the mantra relate to your actions and thoughts? How did you justify them? How did they interrelate?

The Break up scenes

Add “I love you” mantra to break up scenes, or other scenes that might seem to call for hate or disgust. Even if it plays contrary to the script.
Try both ways (I love you and I hate you).

Integration: What does “I love you” do to you? What does it do to your partner? How might this affect boundary setting in your work? How might this affect how you say no to opportunities that don’t feel aligned to you?

CURTAIN

As we build the foundation of love, from Virtue 1: love of self through Virtue 2: love of other and next virtue 3: love of god / reality, we are creating a foundation of abundance from which to act, from which to grow, from which to expand into our work. As we heal and replace bridges of guilt with connections of love, we will be laying the groundwork for authentic, primordial connections with ourselves, our fellow artists, with our fellow humans, with the world, and with the transcendent.

Virtue 2: Love of Other is also setting the stage beautifully for Virtue 3 because as we begin to accept others in this transcendent way we naturally begin to see the divine all around us.

Love is a liberator and a connector. That is a powerful, beautiful, paradoxical combination. And it’s crucial to this whole framework. Love has an open hand, love is encouraging, and generative. Love is also mystical, and in and of itself connects us to the primordial, to the divine.

As homo sapiens, we have the ability to turn love off, like a switch.

As Shurtleff wrote in the seminal book “Audition” – in order to contact the beautiful and the powerful and the deep in your work, you must always ask yourself, “Where is the love?”

Next week we’ll explore how Love of Self and Love of Other scales up to Love of Reality.

This article is part of The 12 Virtues of the Primordial Artist series. © 2025 David Carr-Berry. All rights reserved.