Modern Valentine’s Day feels dystopian. Consumerism and romantic love culture have carried it off to Vatican Disneyland. If you don’t have a committed relationship, it’s a tossup between unexpected butterflies and unpleasant reminders. For the committed, it’s celebrating that commitment.
Celebrating commitment is both critical and bland. It’s like having a party to celebrate the fiscal new year. Dull premise, but you could still make a good time of it with the right people.
“Hey look, this commitment is one of the biggest value-generators in our lives. Let’s keep that going, yeah? Now to perform a re-enactment for a day: Fresh love of days long past.”
And there’s already celebrations for commitment. Anniversaries - of a first date, or a first encounter, or a wedding. Every relationship is a whole new world, all-together form a starry night sky - profound and impersonal. Just imagine if everyone’s birthday or wedding was on the same day? (He says, days away from Chinese New Year)
There’s still a touch of the divine in Valentine’s Day - naive romantic love. The festival could have so much more of it. It’s a drip from one of the kegs of human conditions, ripe to be tapped. What could let flow?
Desire.
Hunger. Yearning. Want. Lust. Wish. Craving. Need. Addiction. Ambition.
There’s no festival focused on celebrating desire (many observe gluttony, satisfying desire). And it’s a volatile fuel that empowers us. We each have our own complex relationship with desire - sometimes life-making, sometimes ruinous. But we don’t festively celebrate it or the world-building activity it channels.
We should, despite its Christian origins. On Valentine’s Day.
May you experience the deepest of desire. May it inspire action. May you soon find relief, but not today.