Today, my Valentine’s Day is looking a lot like the last year’s, a long hike with my pups just as the poppies are starting to bloom here in Northern California.
Can we all just agree on the fact that today is so not about Hallmark cards and teddy bears and having some handsome dude or beautiful babe to share dinner with? It’s about love. Recently that’s all I’ve been writing about, all I’ve been thinking about, all I’ve been trying to do. And dammit, it’s working. I am happier. Or maybe happy isn’t the right word, because sometimes I am sad. But I feel more like myself.
When you make love your ultimate goal, when all you do and say is out of love, when you relentlessly choose love over fear, you will never fail. Love is your trump card. It is your not-so-secret weapon, your magic spell. It always works.
Yes, sometimes it will hurt, you will cry, the love you give may even be rejected or taken for granted. But any love you give is never wasted and it is always received, whether the receiver knows it or not. So keep giving. Don’t stop.
And above all, love yourself, because you are adorable.
Some people think Valentine’s Day is stupid or unnecessary because we shouldn’t need a day to show love, we should love all of the time. And while that’s true, what’s even more true is that we need today, despite whether we “should” or not. We need Valentine’s Day more than ever. I don’t blame us for needing it. Love is hard, it’s messy and hurtful, and now a days it feels pretty unnatural. But it IS natural, the most natural thing we can do, because we are made of love after all. And it’s worth it. Always, every time.
Love for love’s sake. Take shelter in one another.
A poem I wrote, and I wanted to share it with you all today:
Lately all I’ve been dreaming is of the sea
Soaking in its salt and letting its sands polish
the winter from the soles
of my feet.
Breathing and seeing under her surface, blue
blue for the winds above and
I crave her relentless strength, how she pushes
and pulls with loyalty
Swelling for true love.
It’s the only way she knows how to move.
There are birds in my chest, beating
their wings against my sternum
and for so long I have ignored their calls,
masking the cries with songs of sweeter truths
and temporary salves.
I let the water splash the wound on my ankle,
cleansing the open gash
stinging as it heals, sizzling as she glides away.
I clench my jaw.
Her currents do not waiver.
Waves are proof that grace still exists,
as the sea gives
in to gravity, bowing to its control
and allowing its body to be moved by
something that unexplainable.
Salt in my eye lashes, salt running down my face.