Big love, little love

You know what else rolled around again blindingly fast? Valentine’s Day. I want to rail against it, but that just seems kinda lazy. (Which isn’t to say I haven’t whinged about Valentine’s Day for most of my life).

I’m still really proud of the post I wrote for Valentine’s Day last year. And I still think that the best antidote to the consumerist bullshit of this hackneyed Hallmark holiday is to think about the people and things, both grand and simple, that you love. Even if it’s not a reciprocal relationship – like the way I feel right now about my bike Baby Blue parked here bathed in sunshine in my new room, like a work of art – just the act of loving can be energising, inspiring, and grounding all at once.

I feel so loved right now. Considering my current state could be generously termed “bohemian” – or more dramatically, “destitute” – it’s purely through the kindness of my amazing family and friends that I’m now sitting at the biggest desk I’ve ever had, job-searching in between long swims and bike rides and yoga with my sister, and day-dreaming about getting back to New York.

And then that city’s a whole other love affair in itself. It’s frustrating that that big love feels so far away, and for so trivial a reason as money. But just knowing that it’s there waiting, and how good it will feel to be back there, will be enough to make the days fly by. That, and all the little everyday love moments: laughs with old friends, tumbleturns, cooking in other peoples’ kitchens, baby giggles, backyard cricket, swapping well-loved books, frangipani on the summer air, the crackle of vinyl, cat stretches, and coasting down hills on a baby blue bike with spokey dokes. Each day its own little love letter.

Hope you found lots to love this Valentine’s Day – and every day.

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