Spread the Love

I had my little temper tantrum yesterday when I was confronted by how much I still hold myself back and limit myself. It is difficult to contemplate that even if love served itself on a pretty sterling silver platter to me I would probably freak out and fling love as far away as possible. It is also unsettling to realize that I am still very much like I was as a girl who felt more comfortable receiving negative attention than positive. Yet, it is best to be honest and to acknowledge how very responsible I am for my situation--it is the only way to own who I am and who I can become. I thank you, dear reader, for keeping with me even when I am petulant and listening.

Perhaps Valentine's Day is a commercialized holiday (what isn't?), but it does help to remind us that we are surrounded by the love and care of others and we likewise love and care. For those of you experiencing this Valentine's Day single remember that the love professed about during this day need not only be the romantic and passionate sort, but indulge in some self-love, familial love, platonic love and love you share with your beloved pets. For those in your life who hate this holiday (and what it may represent to them) be there for them and feel the enriching warmth of being able to help someone else when you are needed. When you need help go to someone you trust and feel suffused in appreciation because they are there for you.

As a friend wrote to me today: "spread the love with your smile today!" There are those in your life for whom your smile/presence is incandescent.

Random Harvest

I have been indulging in watching movies and reading novels of a romantic nature lately and yet I could not be more disinclined towards romance personally at the moment (or any time really). I have mentioned such things before and will no doubt bore you, dear reader, with it again that I show a great ineptitude in such areas of life. It is probably because at the heart of it I don't believe I deserve love nor do I have faith in my own power to love with any sort of constancy, regularity nor proper devotion. When my emotions are engaged I am a worse person for it, not better. Yet, it is wonderful to read and watch romances, which are so positive and hopeful.

I think you can find no more romantic film than one I watched on Saturday night. I have never seen the beginning of Random Harvest, but have seen the middle and end on more than one occasion. The hero of the film (the very debonair and elegant Ronald Colman) suffers from amnesia and what could be romantic than amnesia? Throw in the delightful Greer Garson as our brave, constant heroine and you have a winner. I shall not tell you about the plot for fear I will spoil the fun...should you wish to know more you shall have to see the movie for yourself! For anyone with a romantic leaning you can do no better for a movie about the miracle of love.

Hapless

I am on a love tirade. How can someone so consumed with something be so inept at it? There was little story clip today on NPR today narrated by a woman about her friend's search for love...this friend had breast cancer and when she would worry about not finding anyone the narrator would actually think: "yeah, she may never find someone." I have thought I was like the single friend (but without a life-threatening disease). By the way, the single friend's story ended up happily. What were my reasons: I wasn't pretty, I was not attractive enough, I wasn't smart enough, I was too boring, too dull, not gregarious enough, not happy enough, too fat, not nice enough, not ambitious enough, too odd, bad skin, too lazy and the list goes on....

When going on dates all these lists of things would berate me and I would feel sorry for the guy I was on the date with and with a sense of relief set him on his way to finding someone better. Dating for me is being exposed and vulnerable to all my fears all at once. Am I good enough? Are my looks tolerable? Do I have enough to offer someone else? Can I meet their expectations? How much will I disappoint them? Can I keep them entertained and interested? And I hate giving anyone the power to judge me and for me to care about their judgment. It was torture because I was so focused on what was wrong or potentially wrong with me and trying to foresee what would be the reason for the inevitable rejection (and honestly feeling better when it happened the rejection happened because I could go back to not being scrutinized).

I also got the sense that the person I was on a date with could take or leave me...they were dating to date rather than out of interest in me specifically. Actually I am not certain when anyone has been interested in me in particular....

There was quote from A Caribbean Mystery, a Miss Marple mystery by Agatha Christie I recently read that struck a chord with me:

“Miss Marple sighed, a sigh that any woman will give however old at what might be considered wasted opportunities. What was lacking in Esther had been called by so many names during Miss Marple’s span of existence. ‘Not really attractive to men.’ ‘No S.A.’ ‘Lacks come-hither in her eye.’ Fair hair, good complexion, hazel, quite a good figure, pleasant smile, but lacking that something that makes a man’s head turn when he passes a woman in the street.”

Why is something that is so basic for so many, so damned complicated and hard for me? Any and all advice would be welcomed to help this hopeless, hapless dabbler!

Love, love, lovE, LOVE

Last night I watched the show I had most anticipated this season: "Pushing Daisies". If you want a summary about the show follow the link as I am pretty atrocious at summarizing (see post about dreams below as evidence). What I can tell you is that I love the luscious, Technicolor look of the show reminiscent to the saturated intensity found in movies like "Nanny McPhee" and "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory". There is a sense you are watching a slightly morbid children's fairy tale which is reinforced by the voice of the narrator (Jim Dale who is the voice for all of the Harry Potter audio books here in the States).

The hero, Ned, is a pie maker with special powers and so very isolated from the world of the living. The heroine, Chuck (aka Charlotte Charles) was Ned's childhood sweetheart (only sweetheart for what I can tell) whom he brought back from the dead in order to solve her murder. There are several other interesting supporting characters. The love story at the heart of the show is sweet and tragic as they can never touch and I think we all wonder (or at least those who watched the show) how they will express their affection without contact. As on critic said, this show is going to explore aspects of love not often touched upon (no pun intended) and perhaps even the nature of love.

I am always curious about love (of all types, but for purposes of this post the romantic variety) the way only a person who hasn't experienced the much lauded emotion can be. I have seen friends and family in love, I have heard the tales of love from friends and family and I have witnessed the erosion of love. Love is as unique as those that experience it. Sometimes the love is selfish or self-serving. Sometimes the love is selfless. Sometimes is seems surprising. Sometimes it seems inevitable in hindsight. Sometimes love is soft and gentle like pale sunshine on a spring day. Sometimes love is harsh and powerful. Sometimes love is nourishing. Sometimes love is harrowing. Sometimes love is affirming. Sometimes love is eternal. Sometimes love is temporary. Sometimes love is without limits. Sometimes love is conditional. Sometimes love is abrasive. Sometimes love is a balm. Sometimes love is suffocating. Sometimes love is freeing. Sometimes love is safe. Sometimes love is dangerous.

Is it little wonder everyone can write so much about such a many-faceted emotion? Is it little wonder that people remain ever fascinated? I have thought long and hard about love because I want to write about it (and if I am honest would like to experience at least once, although I am no good with emotion). How can someone who has never experienced love write about it? Since love is so very different for everyone would it matter if I experienced it when I have to ascribe it to characters that aren't even remotely me? I still have to imagine how a particular character of a certain disposition, experiences, time and place would feel and express love. For anyone who thinks writing a romance of depth, sensitivity and feeling is easy, think again. A few historical romance genre authors surpass others in their ability: Judith Ivory (also known as Judy Cuevas), Laura Kinsale and Patricia Gaffney (she no longer writes historical romance, but her Wyckerley Trilogy is excellent) to name a few.

Asking about love can meet with jubilant and effusive talk, silence or a rant. I always wish to ask about it, to learn how love is for that particular person, but love is personal and some people don't want to discuss it. I wonder if there is a site dedicated to sharing stories about love? That would be fascinating....

By the way, the image found above is of a card I am sending one of my uncles for his birthday. It is a bit feminine, yet I think he will appreciate it nonetheless. I used extra bits I had on my table from making my orange artist trading cards earlier this week and since my uncle likes blue I went with blue and orange. I always wonder what the woman is thinking with her sweet smile...perhaps she is remembering her first kiss or dreaming about who she will love? Then again maybe she is thinking about running through the meadow or dancing or doing sums or she solved a riddle....

Exposure

Admission: I read romance novels and even more damning than that I have read erotic romance novels. My favorites thus far are written by a woman by the name of Robin Schone. They are odd, disturbing and halting books even by my standards. I remember upon first reading The Lover I had to adjust my thoughts in order to grasp the lurching, cryptic narrative and intense, dark and passionate interplay between the hero and heroine.

I think why I like these books so much is that the books are about more than striping of clothing to expose the nude body beneath, but striping of all secrets and defenses until the hero and heroine expose the truth of the character they are to themselves and to each other...they are both so very vulnerable. The books seem more isolated than others in that the world narrows down to one man and one woman and yet they deal with all sorts of damage done by villains or at least three of them do: The Lover; its companion novel, Gabriel's Woman and The Lady's Tutor. These books aren't for the feint of heart or modest-minded. Not only are they carnal (I use this word deliberately rather than any other), they are emotionally raw--the characters need each other in the sense that they would be diminished without the other.

I am reminded of something one of my uncles warned me of when I was around 15 years old about reading romance novels: beware unreal, fantastical expectations. My mind is a strange thing and this avuncular advice coupled with a few other factors lead me to insulated myself from such unreal expectations by believing such things only happened to other people or only in books. I lived with the belief that love was not possible for me and I made choices accordingly. This belief still reverberates and marks my life. To hope for a life like other people, a life in which I am not alone seems presumptuous and foolhardy. In truth reading romance novels is often more torment than comfort, but at least it is fiction. Often real life is crueler to witness. Too often I feel like a beggar watching others feast. Ultimately though aren't I responsible for feeling like this? It is my own fault and only I can change this.

Maybe I am too much of a coward. I think it takes strength and courage to accept and give love. It certainly requires bravery to reveal who you are and let someone else know you. I congratulate anyone who has done just that.

Eat. Eat. Don't You Love Me?

I am a food enabler. To me these statements are the truth:

Food is life. Food is passion. Food is expression. Food is universal. Food builds bridges. Food is love.

Food is my way back into living. Food is my invitation into socializing.

I believe food is more than simple nourishment--it is a common thread linking all living things. When I have no idea what to talk about I will talk food. Everyone has to eat and more times than not there is an emotional connection between the person eating the food being consumed.

For my immediate family food is a non-verbal conveyance of caring, pride and sharing of love which may be too difficult to manifest into words or physical affection. Making something delicious says "I Love You" and eating the food placed in front of you with obvious pleasure and gusto conveys "I Love You Too." I know this is not always the case in each family, but in ours you can taste the love along with the spices.