You know from following me on twitter (@mmfinck) and facebook (http://www.facebook.com/mmfinck), that the word "love" shows up frequently ("I am loving this workshop!", "GOAL! I love Abby Wambach.", "I loved Hemingway and Gelhorn.", "I LOVE this book!!") in my posts. I wonder from time to time if my free use of that word makes my remarks comes across as insincere. I re-read, shrug, and post. The sentiment doesn't come from shallowness. Inversely, depth. I experience things deeply. Good and bad. I admit it. (Common characteristic of writers, I suspect.) I just happen to celebrate the good publicly and the bad privately. My friend brought over her new puppy to see me the other day. After only one short visit, I love that puppy. I suspect that I will love her all her life until she is no longer. Her snuggles made me deeply happy. That feeling burrows into my heart. I welcome it. It fulfills me to have reciprocal, personal connections with as many things as possible. This quote by C.S. Lewis captures it for me.
"Affection is responsible for nine-tenths of whatever solid and durable happiness there is in our lives."
~ C.S Lewis
I don't say that I "don't like" Valentine's Day anymore. I just like to expand it beyond romantic, even parental or familial, love. I still don't prefer pre-fixe menus or extravagant gestures. But there is little better to celebrate than: affection, kindness, personal connection, and inviting happiness/people/things into our hearts.
"Come live in my heart, and pay no rent."
~ Samuel Lover, Live Heart Come
HAPPY VALENTINE's DAY THE SEQUEL! <3
[Please allow me one aside. I wouldn't be the big sister/mother of daughters/feminist that I am if I didn't say: Inhabitants of our hearts must be worthy of it. "Love is not abuse."]