Since it’s not too far past Valentine’s Day and thoughts of love may still be lingering, I thought this little item might be of interest. The Wall of…
Wall Of Love
There’s a lot of love in this Wall of Love from Sue at Getting the Picture. To read the entire post, please click the link above.
Today is the feast day of Saint Valentine, an early Christian martyr who was executed on this day (or July 6 or 30, depending on whichever branch of Christianity) in circa 269. Well, we aren’t sure what year, and that’s because there are a number of early Christian martyrs named Valentine who are all recognised as saints by the Roman Catholic Church.
But if there’s one thing historians agree on, it’s that the stories around Valentine are probably apocryphal since there are so many of them, all different. Nevertheless and whatever you believe, one commonality is that Valentine is said to have performed the miracle of restoring sight to the daughter of his Roman jailer and that just before he was executed, he wrote her a letter and signed it “your Valentine.”
Another commonality and the one that more closely lead to him becoming the patron saint of lovers is that before he was imprisoned for his religious beliefs he supposedly married a number of Christian Roman soldiers who otherwise would not have been able to tie the knot.
But as so often happens throughout history, centuries passed and the identity and religious purpose of Saint Valentine’s Day became almost completely obscured. By the 14th century his popularity was revived but only because of the notions of courtly love invented by the English writer Geoffrey Chaucer and a bit further on, also by William Shakespeare. 500 years later he appeared again because the Victorians liked the concept of ideal romantic love and set about establishing many of the traditions – such as the giving of cards – that we are familiar with today.
Whether you celebrate – either from a religious or secular perspective – Saint Valentine’s Day or not, it is a good time to recognise the importance of unselfish love and all it can accomplish. 🩷
Valentine’s Day can be a cute, lighthearted day, but I don’t like what has become of it. When I was in elementary school, it was fun to make cards, colour hearts and take them home for friends and family. There would likely be a few heart-shaped chocolates or a heart-shaped cake for dessert. It was a low-key, fun day.
Now, advertisers try to make us feel like moral degenerates if we don’t buy flowers, chocolates, restaurant meals and some sort of sexy present for our significant other, if we have one. It’s sort of, spend money, and spend THIS way, otherwise you don’t care about or love your people.
My M and I disagree. We don’t believe in giving special attention on just one day; we try to show it every day. We avoid going to restaurants or buying gifts for Valentine’s Day; the commercial demand that we celebrate in an “appropriate” way by spending money in a super-busy restaurant with over-worked staff who are serving up limp meals is not something on which we’re willing to spend money.
We would much rather go at a time of our choosing and really enjoy it. Give flowers at any time just because. Do little things and show in numerous ways how much we love and appreciate each other. Enjoy a chocolate heart.
But be guilted into a formulaic response so that big companies can collect money? No thank you.
What is your opinion?
Yes, my heart has been folded, but it still retains its shape.
I hope yours has, too.
Have a heart-ful day. ❤️💚💜 💙 🧡 💛 🤎 💖
Have a heart …
… and a very good day. ❤️
Have a very happy Valentine’s day. 🙂
This is for my beloved sister J, who passed away on December 26 after a short struggle with cancer. I love you, J.
You have always been kind and tough and thoughtful and practical.
And you learned early how to deal with the family’s narcissists. Before it was popular, you knew a kind of no contact and lived it. Your own kind.
Distance did it. Physical distance. Mental distance.
I, much younger, didn’t really know you.
Not until much later. Not until now, really.
And then, we faced another narcissist. This time, together. Looked at our heritage.
But you handled that, too. Adroitly, as you always have. Even as you grew smaller and smaller and your world grew smaller and smaller.
The one who wasn’t “smart.”
The one who always knew but didn’t fuss. Just lived.
I’ve had a good long life, you said.
I wish it was longer.
I wish I didn’t have to say good-bye.
Sometimes, when something is broken, it should stay that way.
It’s difficult isn’t it?
Trying not to do something… especially once you’ve started doing it, whether physically or mentally. Many actions take place in the mind, more than in physical reality. It’s easier to stop doing the physical stuff, than the mental stuff. If the mental stuff is directing the physical… once you start doing something… it’s a ‘mare to stop!
And if your emotions are involved in your mental stuff… stuff is going to just keep happening and going and happening because it just can’t stop itself or you or others.
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“I took the other road, all right, but only because it was the easy road for me, the way I wanted to go. If I’ve encountered some unnecessary resistance that’s because most of the traffic is going the other way.”
― Edward Abbey
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I once read somewhere that the mind can’t process negatives.
My mind found…
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You were going. Creeping through the night.
Airports.
Bus terminals.
With the heavy smell that you carried – of need. Of want.
To be somewhere else. Anywhere else.
With many, many others. Swallowing hugely
of everything.
And not knowing.
I leave you, you said. I think. I feel. You say nothing.
Except
Sit there with your tea staining your life. Trying to stain mine.
You went. She stayed.
You were better. Stronger. Growing.
Still, she stayed.
I touch you, she said. My darling. My one.
That is what I am. That is how I show.
Why, you said. Why? Irritated. There’s more. There’s other. So much other.
I touch you, she said. My darling. My one.
That is what I am. That is how I show.
Be some other way, you said. Be more.
I touch you, she said. My
I know, you thought.
Knowing.
This is for my special friend C, who has just lost her mom. I love you, C.
Some of you dear readers have probably come to the conclusion that after my nasty experience with a male narcissist that I’m a sort of man-hater. Nothing could be further from the truth. My experience with Harry has in many ways been beneficial and clichéd as it might sound, has helped me to become a better person. Not that I would recommend this method of self-improvement.
Becoming a better person lead me to M. He is the love of my life and the best man I have ever met.
I feel profoundly lucky to have found you.
In the Net! - Pictures and Stories of Life 