a bag of magical beans
say you have a bag of these magical beans and several pots. u plant a few in each of the pots and you realize that different pots actually contain soil of different grade and the beans yield differently.
you probably hit it off very well with some pots' harvest and you decide to plant more in them. There you have, a circle of A-grade crop yielding pots and a second level of whatevers.
You shower almost all your attention on the A-graders, because they simply give you in return, a tremendous sense of gratification. Right frequency, similar environments, mental stimulation etc.
But your second-graders, they still keep growing for you, albeit slower, perhaps not as beautifully as you'd prefer, but still decent in a way. These are the pots you can look at them momentarily just to make sure you don't trip over them, and then you would turn your back onto.
One unfortunate day, an accident caused all your top yielding pots to be smashed into smithereens. You sulk. You fiddle with your second levels and indulge in pouring out how much you missed your A-graders.
The whatevers continue to grow for you. Slowly but warmly, to keep you occupied, as you mull over your losses.
And when you recuperate your losses, the cycle begins again.
The second levels are alway there, miraculously, because to them, you are their A-grade grower. That's why they didn't leave you in the lurch.
How foolish. They should have long uprooted themselves and find someone worth their lifetime.
you probably hit it off very well with some pots' harvest and you decide to plant more in them. There you have, a circle of A-grade crop yielding pots and a second level of whatevers.
You shower almost all your attention on the A-graders, because they simply give you in return, a tremendous sense of gratification. Right frequency, similar environments, mental stimulation etc.
But your second-graders, they still keep growing for you, albeit slower, perhaps not as beautifully as you'd prefer, but still decent in a way. These are the pots you can look at them momentarily just to make sure you don't trip over them, and then you would turn your back onto.
One unfortunate day, an accident caused all your top yielding pots to be smashed into smithereens. You sulk. You fiddle with your second levels and indulge in pouring out how much you missed your A-graders.
The whatevers continue to grow for you. Slowly but warmly, to keep you occupied, as you mull over your losses.
And when you recuperate your losses, the cycle begins again.
The second levels are alway there, miraculously, because to them, you are their A-grade grower. That's why they didn't leave you in the lurch.
How foolish. They should have long uprooted themselves and find someone worth their lifetime.