My Take On Valentine’s Day: A Contrarian’s Point Of View

Screen Shot 2013-02-12 at 9.57.18 AMI won’t lie.  I think that for adults Valentine’s Day is a big ‘ole waste of time & money.  Too contrived.

I like hearts.  I like chocolate.  I like flowers.  I like dinner.  I like jewelry.

But need we do them all on one day?  Would we not be better served if we distributed these little treats of life over the course of a year?

I think that we would be.  And as I adhere to the philosophy that one should be the change one wants to see, I can assure you that the extent of my Valentine’s Day celebration will be this post… with the cute little heart on it.

The rest of you, please carry on in a way that makes sense to you.  I know that you will regardless of what I write here.  Have a good time.  Please.  Do.

But as for me, I think that I’ll follow the wise words of Dharma from Dharma & Greg: “A big part of being open is to embrace things you know are stupid.”

Which, for me, is Valentine’s Day.  Happy Valentine’s Day everyone.

[Image from here.]

Early Morning Light

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“I wish I could show you, when you are lonely or in darkness, the astonishing light of your own being.”

~ Hafiz of Shiraz

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Early the other morning a weird warm weather front came through our area.  It brought strong winds and unusual light with it.

When I took this photo I was trying to capture the almost full moon that was still visible in the early morning sky, but the rapidly moving clouds kept me from doing that.

Instead, I ended up with a photo of bare branches + purplish sky.  Not what I was trying to do, but beautiful nonetheless.

And perhaps a lesson to me: do your best, see where it goes & take joy in whatever you get!

The Stuff & Things Of Life

This year my desk calendar displays a vintage ad above each monthly grid.  January’s ad is for a Big Ben alarm clock.  The style of the ad is mid-century and the vibe of the ad is cheerful.  I smile when I look at it.

Unlike the nature photo calendars that I’ve had in the past, this one inspires me in a more creative way.  Suddenly I want to paint something– or bake something– or color something, even.  Funny how the imagery on something can influence me in such a way, but it does.

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I’ve always been fascinated by what objects people put around themselves.  I enjoy knowing what stuff a person finds important enough to keep on his or her desk– or on his or her kitchen counter– or in his or her magazine rack.  The little things that make someone smile.  Or be productive.  Or feel safe.

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I stumbled on this article about abandoned suitcases that were found in an old insane asylum.  It’s an interesting read.  The photos of the contents of the suitcases are amazing.  Plus there is documentation to explain who owned the suitcases– and why he or she was institutionalized.

There’s no way of knowing who put the objects into each suitcase.  It might have been the patient or it might have been the person who institutionalized the patient.  Or, I suppose, it might have been the nurse or doctor who came to escort the patient to the asylum.

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Looking around my home office I see the details that make it mine.  Like the calendar that inspires me.  Like the colorful Le Creuset mug that keeps my coffee handy.  Like the books in the old wooden bookcase that ground me.  And I wonder, what would I take with me if I knew I was going to an insane asylum… probably for the rest of my life.

Impossible to know the answer to such a hypothetical question.  Yet interesting to ponder.  On a Saturday morning.

The Poinsettia On The Kitchen Table

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::  Some of you who’ve been reading this blog for a while know that this poinsettia came into our home the weekend after Thanksgiving Day 2011.  It has lived, bloomed, grown while sitting on our kitchen table ever since.

This is unprecedented for me.  Never once has a poinsettia, entrusted to my care, lived more than a couple of months after it came into our house.

Yet this wonderful plant has shown me that with the right amount of indifference and the right amount of sunlight, a poinsettia can thrive, at least for a year or so, in our home.

Truly this is a case of… who knew?

::  I was staring at this plant the other morning as I sat at the kitchen table and drank a mug of coffee.  Bay windows surround the table on one side so I had the choice of looking outside into the grayness or looking inside at this colorful, drooping poinsettia.

I went with the colorful alternative.  I mean… who wouldn’t?

::  According to a fast bit of research on the topic, a poinsettia can live for years inside someone’s home.  I like knowing this, but doubt that this will be the case with our poinsettia on the kitchen table.  It is beginning to look frazzled and worn out.

I’m not going to do anything in particular to encourage it to keep on growing, but at the same time I’m not going to withhold water and sunlight from it.  I’m just going to let it go through its process of aging gracefully.

This plant’s sense of purpose has charmed me.  All plants are like this, of course;  but seeing the process unfold in slow motion in front of me each day for well over a year, reminds me that we need to define ourselves as we see fit.

Do your own thing, says our poinsettia on the kitchen table.  And all that I think is… why not?