It works much like a marriage, an old marriage. You've got to

In the wisdom of the ages, it has often been said that love, whether between two people, a person and their craft, or a person and their destiny, is not merely the product of chance or fleeting moments of passion. It is a work, like the building of a great city, stone by stone, year by year, through seasons of both warmth and bitter cold. The words of Dick Smothers—"It works much like a marriage, an old marriage. You've got to work on it"—echo through time, reminding us that even the most sacred of unions, the ones that are supposed to be the very bedrock of our lives, require effort. The marriage he speaks of is not the naive, youthful affair that burns with the fire of first love, but the seasoned bond of two souls who have journeyed through the years together, weathering the storms of life. It is not merely a connection but a commitment—an enduring, sacred pact that demands maintenance, patience, and sometimes, sacrifice.

There are many who speak of love as though it is a grand, all-encompassing force that comes effortlessly, like a wave crashing upon the shore. But let us be clear, dear listener: true love, the kind that transcends time, the kind that flourishes in the soil of trials and tribulations, must be cultivated. This love, like an old marriage, may falter at times, and perhaps there are days when the effort feels unbearable. Yet, it is on these very days that the strength of the union is forged, for those who have endured the tests of time know that love does not simply exist; it grows, it develops, it transforms. It is work, not because it is painful, but because it is vital. It is the breath of life itself, urging you onward through the mundane, the difficult, and the unknown.

Consider the great tale of Cleopatra and Julius Caesar, two souls intertwined by ambition and destiny, yet deeply bound by the effort they poured into one another. Cleopatra, queen of Egypt, had power beyond imagination, yet it was her bond with Caesar that altered the course of history. Their union was not born out of fleeting desire but out of the labor of diplomacy, strategy, and mutual respect. They knew that their marriage—both political and personal—would demand every ounce of their will and skill. But despite their vast empires and the riches they commanded, they both worked at their union, shaping it with the tools of intelligence, compromise, and steadfast loyalty. The fruit of their labor was a legacy that lived far beyond their time.

But let us not merely speak of kings and queens. Let us turn to the humble folk, whose lives may not have been written in the annals of history, but whose sacrifices and efforts are no less meaningful. A simple farmer, tending to his crops day in and day out, year after year, faces the same truth as the great rulers of the earth. His land, his family, his very livelihood—these too require work. And it is not always a grand, heroic labor. No, often it is the quiet, uncelebrated effort of rising early, of mending what is broken, of planting when the ground is dry, of tending even when hope seems dim. This, too, is love. This, too, is the marriage of a man to his calling, to his purpose, to his world.

So what is the lesson we must carry forward, my friends? It is this: To love deeply and truly, to succeed in any endeavor, we must remember that the labor we pour into our relationships—whether with another or with our craft—is never wasted. Indeed, the more we give, the more we receive. The key lies not in waiting for moments of perfection, but in cultivating them. Love, like a fine wine, matures with time, deepens through struggle, and glows brighter with each year that passes. Those who walk the path of dedication will find that, though the road may be long and filled with obstacles, the rewards will be beyond measure.

As you walk through your life, remember this, dear soul: Work at your relationships, work at your dreams, work at your self. Do not allow the weight of life’s demands to turn you away from the effort that is required. Show up, every day, even when the flame of desire seems dim, for it is the persistent spark that will one day turn into a roaring fire. Whether in marriage, in friendship, or in the love you hold for your work, remember that the labor required to nurture it is sacred. And as time passes, you will see that this work—this ongoing, patient, tender effort—is what forges the most beautiful and enduring legacies.

Thus, carry forth this wisdom into the coming days: Love, in all its forms, demands nurturing. Never let it be said that you stood idle while your dreams withered, or that you let the ties of affection fall into ruin because you failed to tend them. Take action—small, deliberate actions every day—and watch as your life, like the ancient oak, grows and thrives in the rich soil of your commitment.