My body is adorned with six tattoos, and if you asked which one I like best, I’d struggle: Might as well ask me to name my favorite child.
One of them might be my favorite, though, and I’ll tell you why. It makes me think about love – why we need it, what it looks like to give and receive it, from which source does it carry the most meaning.
“How bold one gets when one is sure of being loved,” Freud wrote. (Lest you think there’s an accidental typo in my ink, rest assured I purposefully swapped “gets” for “is.”)
But what kind of love was he talking about? To be desired and chosen by another? To be nurtured by a parent? To be accepted by oneself? To be held by a mystery greater than our embodied existence?
In my opinion: Yes. YES. All of it. None of it. Here, as always, personal interpretation determines meaning.
I find an unmistakable comfort in the connection and affection I receive from outside sources – especially my children, my husband, my pets, sober community, the wise and brave and hilarious women I’m lucky to call friends.
And yet, when I feel loved most deeply, it is because love has been cultivated on the inside, from the inside, over a period of many years that will continue until the moment of my last breath.
Love, for me, is a journey of the Self to the Self.
Self-curiosity.
Self-excavation.
Self-connection.
Self-acceptance.
Self-forgiveness.
Self-respect.
Self-liberation.
Self-ascension.
If you’ve been around me even for a few minutes, you know that the concept of “Self” isn’t at all selfish; that capital “S” signifies Divinity. Source. Stardust. Soul.
That belief is my guide, and the disciplines of yoga, therapy and emotional sobriety are how I deepen and practice my faith. Which means intentional breathing is an act
of Self-love. Unrolling my yoga mat is an act of Self-love. Being honest with my therapist and my loved ones is an act of Self-Love. So is hearing and responding to feedback from others about the ways I can love them better.
Love looks like paying attention.
It’s parenting and partnering.
It’s giving and taking.
It’s saying what is most true.
It’s learning how to be at peace with ourselves and others.
It’s poetry.
It’s a prayer.
A laugh.
A forehead kiss.
A moment of awe.
Of evolution.
Of confidence.
Of offering grace.
Of honoring what’s holy in every life, including our own.
Seeing and being seen.
Being truthful.
Being considerate.
Being part of community.
Holding open the proverbial door.
Learning to speak others’ languages.
Speaking up in defense of what’s right.
On this Valentine’s Day, I’m curious to know: How has the look of love evolved for you?
