Ever since Saunia Powell commented something provocative on my Facebook site, I've been thinking about love. Not so strange, you say, on such a day as this. This being of course Valentines Day. I can get really self-righteous about American holidays. It's all the routine, liberal ranting right: boo hiss and bah humbug to the commodification, materializing and watering-down of love. It's all so sentimental and counter revolutionary. One can take up similar arguments on Thanksgiving and Christmas, especially if you've studied history even a smidgen. But back to love.
Who knows: maybe it's true. Maybe we do need one day for making a date, buying flowers and chocolate, dressing up and exchanging cards; maybe we do need an excuse to have extra-lovey-dovey sex or hard core humping (depending on your flavor). I certainly can't complain about an excuse to do arts and crafts with an emphasis on the color red. I'm making James a multi-dimensional, interactive heart with supplies I got from Michael's while listening to Portishead. Not too bad. Certainly the holiday brings a gratitude focus for those of us coupled with super-natural sweethearts like mine. So yes, in my case the romantic unit deserves a ritual and why not use this occasion to flare up the passion already in motion?
And...
One of the things that strikes me each year on this day is how much I love, how many I love and how creepy it feels to express love to anyone but my partner. Like, if you step outside the romantic love relation you're doing the holiday an injustice. So far the most loving thing I've experienced today was a phone conversation with Wade wherein he quoted from Judith Butler's "Precarious Life." Love of friendship. Love of kick-ass political and social commentary. Where are the holidays for those? Later I was at the gym, experiencing a rush of endorphins on the Elliptical and the prayer I'm supposed to deliver at Church tomorrow for Bea Morris came to me word for word. This isn't the first time I've experienced revelation at 24 Hour Fitness. Love of the bodies' response to movement. Love of being inspired. How can I send those things a bouquet of flowers and confess my undying devotion? Love of connecting with a Veteran/patient. Love of seeing my government embody principles of righteousness and responsibility for the first time in 8 years. The least I could do is compile a CD of love songs for these cats. Do you get my point? Of course you do...
It's not irrelevant to this conversation that in the English language we only have one word for "love" and other languages have several. Sometimes I wonder if we broadened our language and conceptions about this thing (that in all honesty defies words and cognition) if we'd find something new and life-giving. Or maybe, if in the pursuit of developing new words and thoughts, we might discover something that's been with us all along.
If you broke out of the Valentines Day focus on romantic love, what might you confess to adoring?
1 comment:
yeah... thanks for giving voice to this: when I saw I love Cory, and when I say I love Mama, and when I say I love you, and when I say I love bacon, and when I say I love the rain and the daffodils, and when I say I love justice. It all feels like I'm doing a disservice to the love that I love Cory with, or that I'm being illicit by loving other things and people. Sure I need to be more cautious about the power of my words, but I also need to acknowledge that the words don't contain the emotions and concepts.
I know that's a bit shallow of an engagement with your post, but that's what I've got right now.
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