Showing Up With Love to Create Real Value
Show up with love and craft something useful. — Toni Morrison
Presence as the First Act of Love
Toni Morrison’s call to “show up with love” begins with the radical notion of presence. To show up is not merely to be physically there; it is to arrive with attention, humility, and a willingness to be changed by what we encounter. In Morrison’s novels, from *Beloved* (1987) to *Song of Solomon* (1977), the characters who transform their worlds are those who dare to be fully present to pain, history, and one another. Thus, love is framed not as an abstract feeling, but as a deliberate posture: a way of stepping into the room, into the work, and into relationship with genuine concern.
Love as an Intentional Creative Force
From that starting point of presence, Morrison’s phrase moves toward action: to “craft something useful.” Love here becomes a generative force, not a passive emotion. Her own career exemplifies this; she edited, taught, and wrote with the explicit aim of expanding the imaginative lives of Black readers and writers, thereby crafting cultural tools that others could use. In *Playing in the Dark* (1992), she argues that literature can reshape how a society imagines itself. Love, then, is not only tenderness; it is a disciplined commitment to making things—stories, spaces, institutions—that nurture and empower others.
Usefulness Beyond Utility and Profit
However, Morrison’s word “useful” should not be mistaken for purely economic utility. Rather than reinforcing a culture of productivity for its own sake, she points toward usefulness as service: work that meets real human needs—emotional, intellectual, and communal. A community workshop that teaches storytelling, a classroom where every child’s language is honored, or a small gesture of mutual aid on a difficult day all exemplify this deeper usefulness. By tying usefulness to love, Morrison redirects value away from profit and toward human flourishing, insisting that what we make should help people live more fully, not simply consume more efficiently.
Craft, Care, and the Ethics of Making
The verb “craft” introduces another layer: careful, skillful making. Craft implies patience, revision, and learning from mistakes. Morrison, who often rose before dawn to write while raising children and working full-time, treated her pages like carefully woven cloth. Similarly, to craft something useful with love means we do not rush, exploit, or cut corners; instead, we refine our work so that it can bear the weight of real lives. Whether we are crafting policies, poems, software, or family routines, Morrison’s ethic suggests that true craftsmanship is inseparable from care for the people who will be shaped by what we create.
Transforming Daily Life Through Loving Work
Ultimately, Morrison’s injunction is practical: it applies as much to ordinary days as to great artistic projects. Showing up with love might look like listening fully in a meeting, preparing a meal that honors someone’s dietary needs, or revising a report so that it is clearer and kinder to its readers. Over time, these small acts accumulate into a different way of inhabiting the world, where usefulness is measured by how much less alone, less silenced, or less diminished others feel because of our efforts. In this way, Morrison links inner attitude to outer impact, suggesting that a life guided by love and usefulness can quietly reimagine what counts as meaningful work.