The stores have just barely finished selling Christmas stuff and already they are showing things in various shades of pink and mostly heart shapes, to remind us all that Valentine's day is coming. So whether we recognize it or not, love is in the air and that makes me think of love's many meanings and the ways it insinuates itself in our lives.
Are we talking about the love we fell into not to ever come out again, or the love we fell into happy to emerge later on -- bruised and sore? Are we talking of this deep connection we feel with others of either sex that bring them close to our hearts and precious to our lives? Are we talking about the great, sudden infatuation that grabs us and invades our beings and dreams for awhile? Are we talking about this life-lasting feeling, deep and sound, that bonds us to our mate and lives though hard and better times? Well, the reasons are infinite, just as much as the feelings of what we all have experienced and stashed in a deep place of our memory.
Is is pink? Is is heart shaped? These are the colors and forms a material society has placed on something indescribable and so vivid and true that we cannot think of life without the ones we really love.
In my case, my love takes on so many forms and colors, all part of me, like a magical rainbow over my head in the sky of my life.
I love my whole family and so many added family members, friends, things, my house, my art, my life, people I adopt here and there, old pets, and more remotely, the whole planet of people and our life on this earth.
How could I not love what is a part of me and responds to my whims and fuels my thoughts and actions? What gives me life and inspiration everyday and propels me to grow and become a better me? Or, so I hope.
Love is a weird feeling. It invades our thoughts and minds in great secrecy at times and infiltrates itself to many parts of our beings and one day we are taken over, like by terrorists, and we succumb to our fate with a happy heart. Sometimes it is a very confrontational issue. It hits us over the head and we fall in its grabs with surprise and glee.
I remember when my grandchild was born ten years ago. I was in the room as he appeared to this earth and I looked at his red, swollen face and loved him instantly. I remember in Mexico totally in awe as I looked at my child, loving its very being and wondering how my husband and I could have created such wonder.
It took some days for love to brew as my actual hubby and I walked on the boardwalk in Miami, his first kiss left me breathless. A love still lasting. Add to that, countless beings that elicited love in its many shades and I know for sure that life is about loving and nothing could match love's fascination and intricacies. And we must remember that our love of people in the past does not necessarily die, but goes to a quieter place.
We do not love because of fate or accidents, we love because we are essentially in need of love. It makes us stronger and nobler -- real samurais of our passions. Love, real love, is not a weak feeling; it fuels a huge desire for us to be the strong defender of our hearts and many have died because they have loved.
I guess I will look at all the hearts in the store with more empathy. Gaudy, silly things as they are, they remind me of how empty my life would be without all of the ones I love. Valentine's day is no more than a reminder; and our feelings of loving are kept safe in the vault of our consciousness, because we would not be here on earth, unless love (hopefully) had something to do with it.
Copyright 2011 Micheline Brierre
Edited by Barry Kaplan