Hats Off to Love

Generally I have felt fairly neutral about Valentine's Day. As a child I had a strong aversion to the color pink (even at a young age I felt that "girls like pink" was sexist and unfair. My favorite color was blue. I would now say that it's purple. Maybe this means I'm learning about compromise). However, I had a strong attraction to sugary treats. So this particular holiday was pretty much a toss-up.

Then jr. high and high school came along and we were no longer required to send Valentine's to every kid in class. So it turned into a numbers game. A stressful sort of contest to see who was the most adored and who was the most avoided. And I think that stinks.

Now, navigating holidays as adults, the beast of capitalism can tend to have the same effect on our hearts as a high school hallway. We feel pressure to put forth extravagant displays of love, or feel inadequate or slighted if we do not receive any such displays. Valentine's Day has a way of saying that "alone" is synonymous with "lonely." And that's just nonsense.

This year I am making it a point to broaden the focus of Valentine's Day. I believe it should simply be a celebration of love. Family, friends, significant others--even ourselves! Why shouldn't we use today as a reminder to love ourselves and be less critical? It is a day to acknowledge the affection we should feel toward all humankind simply because we are all ambling through this life together.

(A card that I made and liked quite a bit. It's for you! Yes, all of you. :) )

To avoid sounding any more like an episode of Mr. Rogers than I already do, I am going to leave you with a poem--because I am also infusing this Valentine's Day with as much poetry as I can manage. Poetry, much more than flowers, jewelry, and well-planned dinner reservations, tries to get at the real stuff of love. The intangibles that we can't slice with a knife and fork or watch wither on our kitchen tables.

This particular poem so beautifully expresses my love of humanity. I hope you all feel hugged.

To A Stranger

by Walt Whitman

Passing stranger! you do not know

How longingly I look upon you,

You must be he I was seeking,

Or she I was seeking

(It comes to me as a dream)

I have somewhere surely

Lived a life of joy with you,

All is recall'd as we flit by each other,

Fluid, affectionate, chaste, matured,

You grew up with me,

Were a boy or a girl with me,

I ate with you and slept with you, your body has become

not yours only nor left my body mine only,

You give me the pleasure of your eyes,

face, flesh as we pass,

You take of my beard, breast, hands,

in return,

I am not to speak to you, I am to think of you

when I sit alone or wake at night, alone

I am to wait, I do not doubt I am to meet you again

I am to see to it that I do not lose you.