That Most Ephemeral, Ecstatic, and Agonizing of Human Emotions: Love

It’s February, and my inbox is flooded with Valentine’s Day-themed messages. Fine Stationery offers tips for writing the perfect love letter. Sephora recommends O-Plump and Facial In A Bottle (not as dirty as they sound) to make me more beautiful for my lover. Williams Sonoma, inexplicably, offers many, many specials on knives. (Valentine, beware.)

I have mixed feelings about Valentine’s Day. So much pressure to prove our undying devotion to one another. It's a love that is far too big for one day and our efforts inevitably fall short of our expectations. Valentine’s Day dinner, for example. The restaurant is always overbooked. You’re ushered to a table that’s been squeezed into a room normally reserved for business meetings. The mandatory prix fixe menu is never as good as the regular fare. The server is harried. The entrée arrives before the salad. They’re out of the chocolate soufflé. We have to shout to hear each other above the din of love and a house band cover of “Lady In Red.” To top it off, the bill is outrageous because of the surcharge for the privilege of being “indulged” on this most romantic of days. And you absolutely cannot complain. That would be like saying your love has a price cap.

Still, it’s a whole lot better than what may have been the original Valentine’s Day when young women would line up to be beaten by drunk Romans with the hides of recently-slain animals in a drunken festival of procreative prep. The practice was thought to enhance fertility, and it included a matchmaking ceremony as well. Good times. (To think, this is where the word romantic comes from.)

What I do adore about the modern holiday though, is the concept of taking time to consciously celebrate love. The annual display of hearts and flowers serves as a reminder to slow down and take stock of all that makes life so wonderful.

It’s not just about romantic love. The banner of love encompasses all.

It's not just about romantic love. The banner of love encompasses all. Your neighbor. Your friends. The guy who cut you off on the freeway. The woman in line at the market who regarded the contents of your basket with judgment in her eyes (that might have been me, sorry. Don’t you know that sugar is killing you?!). The homeless guy asking you for money. The telemarketer who hates making the call as much as you hate receiving it.

Love them all. The things that are easy to love, and those that are not.

Love the planet, the sunrise, and the sunset. Love the stars and the moon and the clouds. Love the weeds running roughshod over your hillside. Love your work. Love the dog down the street that barks ceaselessly from the moment the sun comes up until sometime after noon when, presumably, someone finally gives him a treat and a hug.

Love all the little interruptions of the day that remind you to breathe.

Love the fact that you are alive, and that this day exists.

Love yourself.

And if some roses, or chocolates, or an overpriced dinner in a crowded restaurant are the things that help you do that, love those things too.

Just love the love.