The Taste of Something Sweet: A Small Ritual of Gratitude

As someone whose birthday falls ten days before Valentine’s Day, there were always a lot of red and pink decorations around the stores for my mother to draw inspiration from when decorating for my birthday; and I loved the lacy decorations, the red balloons, the hearts and roses. I still do. They are pretty and passionate and powerful and provocative, and I adore them, especially vintage cards and decorations and handmade tokens of love.

St. Valentine’s Day is also my “Name Day,” the feast day of the saint whose name I share. This is a tradition celebrated by many Ukrainians, and it can be tied to the feast day or birthday of various saints or martyrs. Valya is derived from Valentine, and I always felt a special connection to the saint whose mission was enabling and celebrating love.

I write many different things: some of them are grounded in the real world while others go to mythic places, some of them grapple with the darkness, many of them celebrate beauty. No matter what I am writing, I am a poet at heart and a Romantic. My writing tends to be sensual and descriptive, emotional and wonder-filled. I very much think in scenes and symbols.

Symbols are powerful because they give shape to ideas and emotions. They help us to imagine the possibilities, to manifest what we need by allowing us to visualize with intention. That is so much of what “magic” is—visualizing with intention. And as far as intention, we could definitely use more love in this world.

Viktor E. Frankl, whom I’ve written about before, wrote in Man’s Search for Meaning:

For the first time in my life I saw the truth as it is set into song by so many poets, proclaimed as the final wisdom by so many thinkers. The truth – that Love is the ultimate and highest goal to which man can aspire. Then I grasped the meaning of the greatest secret that human poetry and human thought and belief have to impart: The salvation of man is through love and in love.

I know people dislike or have a love-hate relationship with this holiday. I understand that it’s complicated and muddied by the messages of the media, by toxic relationships we have lived through, by our personal struggles, and by systems put in place that have done irrevocable harm. There’s a lot there, and it’s important, and we certainly do not need to be told on this day, or any day, what love is or should be or how it should be celebrated.

I do think we all need love, however, and I choose to honor this day in that spirit, to see it as a day that remembers and celebrates the kind of love and optimism that Mr. Rogers talked about. For me, the way that he walked through this world with love and kindness embodies the heart of Valentine’s Day:

Deep within us—no matter who we are—there lives a feeling of wanting to be lovable, of wanting to be the kind of person that others like to be with. And the greatest thing we can do is to let people know that they are loved and capable of loving.  

From The World According To Mister Rogers

and

Love is like infinity: You can’t have more or less infinity, and you can’t compare two things to see if they’re ‘equally infinite.’ Infinity just is, and that’s the way I think love is, too.

FromThe World According To Mister Rogers

Some years this holiday has been happy or sad depending on what was going on in my life and in the world. There have been holidays hectic with kid-related activities, or deadlines and responsibilities that ate up all the time, or emotional heartaches and losses that left little room for optimism.

However, there is one thing I have always tried to do on Valentine’s Day, ever since my parents gave me a small heart-shaped box of chocolates when I was a girl. That Valentine’s Day so long ago, it was the only gift a lonely, disappointed, romantic girl received; and after I got over the feeling of being sad, I took the time to eat one of the chocolates, and it tasted like love.

Ever since then, this is my small, private ritual. On Valentine’s Day, I take a few minutes to savor the taste of something sweet on my tongue (preferably a piece of nice chocolate, but sometimes it’s been a sugar cube or a spoon of honey), and as it melts, I close my eyes and remember the feeling of love: of being loved, of loving wholeheartedly. Because love is a gift, and I am so very grateful. Thank you.

Happy Valentine’s Day.

(If you’d like to read more about the history, lore, recipes, and rituals associated with Valentine’s Day, I encourage you to check out this three-part article written by my friend, Katelan Foisy. Click here for more!)

Valentine by Katelan Foisy. You can buy them digitally on her website: https://www.katelanfoisy.com/market

Books and Gratitude

Scholastic Lucky Flyer, 1983.

When I was little, books lived mostly at the library and occasionally came home with me by way of treasures ordered from Scholastic flyers we received at school. I loved those days when the teacher distributed the neatly rubberband-bound piles topped with order slips bearing our names. I don’t think I ever verbalized it to my parents, but even then I was consciously building a library.

My family had a few books and a collection of encyclopedias that I adored on shelves on the back porch, but the only people in my extended family who had anything close to what I envisioned as a proper library were my Aunt Natalia and Uncle Wasyl. The shelves in their family room were filled with what looked like ancient and exotic Ukrainian books.

usedbookI loved the places that brought me books, but they were not really gathering spaces for book-loving communities. The tiny chain bookstore at the mall lacked designated seating spaces, so my best friend Cheryl and I would sit on the floor in the metaphysical section reading about dream analysis and palm reading, trying to find ways to predict or control the future.

Somewhere around junior high, I discovered the used bookstore on Addison Street, situated on the end of the block where we lived– past the Superette, past the bakery, but just before you reached the corner bar. It barely had room for customers; its narrow aisles were filled with classics and pulps, dusty shelves and tables overflowing. That’s where I would take my babysitting money and buy science fiction and fantasy paperbacks, sometimes filling a brown paperbag for $2. I still have some of those early purchases, and they are like old friends in my bookcase.

I discovered the Book Cellar not long after it opened in 2004. Serving good coffee AND wine, it was a community hub with excellent books and literary events. After having launched both Conclave: A Journal of Character and The Silence of Trees at the Book Cellar, there was no question in my mind where I wanted to celebrate the Chicago release of Geek Parenting.

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Photo by Mary Anne Rooney.

We had a wonderful turnout on April 16th–a beautiful, warm, Chicago Spring afternoon. I was overwhelmed by the number of friends, family, and strangers who came to listen as Stephen and I read from Geek Parenting, answered questions, and signed copies.

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Photo by The Book Cellar.

Out of the corner of my eye, I kept seeing passersby stop and peer in the windows to see why such a large crowd had assembled. It’s one of the charms of a neighborhood bookshop–the neighbors come by. Some even came in to listen, joining the lively audience who filled all the seats and stood in between the stacks. We answered a few questions; and then my sister cut the cake while Stephen and I signed books and chatted with people.

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Photo by Ellen Prather.

Sincere thanks to Suzy and her wonderful staff, to everyone who came out to the Book Cellar or has attended events in Seattle or Philadelphia, to everyone who has bought our book, has given it to friends, or has helped to spread the word.

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Photo by Ellen Prather.

Thank you. So much.

It has been a wonderful beginning to our Geek Parenting book tour, and we’re excited about the next few stops on the East Coast in two weeks (click here for dates and more information), as well as those still to come. 

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Delicious cake from Dinkel’s. Photo by Ellen Prather.

Geek Parenting is a celebration of the lessons we learn from some of pop culture’s most famous families, but it’s also a book about the different ways we share and shape our visions for a better future. We do it with stories and imagination, and we do it with friendship and community.

Thank you.

xxo

 

October

Growing up, everyone I knew and loved lived in such close proximity. I knew that Baba and Dido’s families were in Ukraine, but my people were never far away. Now it’s so very different. The world is smaller in many ways, and our circles are larger to include beloved friends and family across the country and over the ocean.

12182601_10206251093530217_4899569065728051142_oI wish I could see them more often, but I am grateful for online glimpses and treasured times when we do reconnect. Ultimately my world is richer for those connections.

My friend Alison and I met in Germany 13 years ago when we were each pregnant with our first child, and she was family from the start. We’ve stayed in touch through ups and downs and moves back and forth across oceans. Our kids have grown up together, sharing the occasional holiday. Some of my favorite Thanksgivings have been spent with them.

Alison came for a too-short visit that was mostly coffee and chats squeezed in around kid schedules and teaching, but we did have one night where I was able to give her a taste of Chicago’s stand-up and burlesque, Gypsy jazz at the Green Mill, and some of the best Ethiopian food (mmmmm). And just like that, she’s back across the ocean and life goes one. The wheel turns.

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Am thinking of you, so many people I love who are too far away and those who are gone from us too soon. I suppose it’s one of the gifts of October and Autumn and Halloween/Samhain–missing loved ones, sitting with nostalgia and longing as we prepare for the season to change.