Not quite 13 years ago, I walked down a short aisle on a landing at a local pond promised a bunch of yada yada, made goo-goo eyes at a very handsome man and voila! left my maiden days behind.
We had a somewhat offbeat wedding. I chose our processional song — the instrumental version of The Princess Bride. (Our First Dance was to the Mark Knopfler version that added in vocals. We’d taken ballroom dance lessons for months prior to the big day, and still I managed on a twirl to bop him in the nose with my elbow. No blood.)
Roger got to choose the recessional song. It just now came up on my iPod, thus prompting this little Valentine’s Day post in his honor.
Know what he chose? The song to kick off our married life, to serve as backdrop for our first kiss, to face the landing full of our family and friends as husband and wife, to launch our big-ass party? A song from his favorite movie, Goodfellas. (Are you seeing the movie theme here?)
Roger, thanks for the roses I found in the kitchen this morning. My fate is still up to you.
I’m pondering three quotes, traveling their threads on this unstructured day.
1. People are like stained-glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun it out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.
— Elizabeth Kubler-Ross
2. Everyone has a price, and life respects that price. But that price is not measured in dollars or in gold, it is measured in love. More than that, it is measured in self-love.
— Don Miguel Ruiz in my 2007 engagement calendar
3. And wuv, twu wuv, will fowow you foweva…So tweasure your wuv.
— The Impressive Clergyman in the Princess Bride
Hmmmm….do I have a light within? Often I feel like all the light in my life (which is considerable) comes from outside me. I’m surrounded by lots of shining people, really good people. It is an odd thought that I attract light because I am light. Could I be? I must be. But I don’t quite believe it. Not in my bones.
How do I love myself? I see all my flaws (which are considerable). But I am able to love other flawed people, loving their light and their dark. Can I also love myself that way — to see myself as more than just the sum of my flaws?
What would it be like to love myself so much — to be so in love with myself — that I have the same sensations I had when Roger and I first met, or the same sensations as when I first held each of my children?
To have my heart beat with excitement in anticipation of the chance to be with me?
To want to get lost in me.
To come up with simple and elaborate ways to pamper me and make me feel special.
Is it acceptable in our culture to love one’s self? How can one express self-love? Is doing so selfish, or is it the most selfless thing in the world?
Can we ever twuwy wuv another without first wuving and tweasuring ourselves?
When I’m dissatisfied with someone, I can usually trace the feeling to a dissatisfaction with myself.
So, if I could truly love myself, would I more easily love those around me?
I’m critical. Don’t know if I get it from my dad or if I’m hard-wired for it. My dad always wants to make things better — a good trait. But here’s what would happen when I showed him a school project or essay. He’d look at it or read it over, tell me it was wonderful, and then talk about ways to improve it.
And, at the same time, he’s always been my biggest cheerleader.
My mom, on the other hand, is a super model for loving unconditionally. She always acts as if my sisters and I are three of the seven wonders of the world, exactly as we are, in whatever we are doing. Even though she doesn’t give advice, we always find answers to problems when we bring them to her. She just gives the space and confidence to solve our own problems, which we are then empowered to do.
I suppose both my dad’s and my mom’s way of loving have made me a mostly-functioning and mostly-happy adult. I’m grateful to both.
Back to Love Thursday. It is my intention to love myself. Wholly, unconditionally. In this way I will emanate love from my being. I love two people, and they love two people, and they love two people…and so on…
I love my hair — even the wave.
I love my green eyes, nearsightedness and all.
I love my skin, the way it protects me and heals.
I love my mouth, the way it experiences and expresses.
I love my arms, that embrace my family often, and which amaze me with their strength.
I love my breasts. They are just right for me.
I love my stomach. I like the freckles on it, and the way the organs inside nourish me.
I love my heart. It loves and provides flow for the rest of me.
I love my lungs. With them I bring in spirit that joins us all, and release all that no longer serves me.
I love my butt. (This is admittedly hard to type.)
I love my legs. The support me and move me forward.
I love my feet. To the teasers in 5th grade, I say they are NOT too small.
I love my height and weight. (Breathe.)
I love myself.
Consider yourself tagged: Go forth and love thyself. Count the ways.