Dear Soloist, I love you

To a beautifully ordinary season of Love

Giorgione's Sleeping Venus

Dear Beautiful Friends,

For those of you who are solo (my preferred term for “single” because the “o”s are so full and luscious), this one’s for you. And if you’re not solo, this one’s also for you. It’s a little story about one of the most unusual mood visitations that appeared one Valentine’s season during a long soloist stretch, at the turn of the century. “Tun of the century” sounds rather romantic, doesn’t it?

It can be disorienting to be a household of one as you climb into your late 30s, most of the world partnering up. And Valentine’s Day might turn into a parade of other people’s happy/sad/disappointed/surprised stories of how their Feb. 14th’s turned out. You might find yourself smiling gamely while hearing about the surprise ski trip or the China-plated dinner growing cold during a raging argument, while inside shrieking: GIVE ME A BREAK.

But this particular Valentine’s Day in Y2K I was feeling mischievous, sly and sovereign AF. Who the hell knows why. No secret, no reason, just life rushing through me at its fullest capacity. I was in love with the world. The early February days of a new century rolled by, storefront windows were filled with strawberry dresses and big paper hearts, and I WAS INTO ALL OF IT.

I don’t know what the hell came over me.

But I decided V-Day season was my holiday that year. I would be celebrating all L O V E—parental, friendships, nieces/nephews, a favorite tree, the book I loved on the nightstand, the eagle circling overhead, my colleagues, the flush-cheeked barista, the quiet bus driver, the yelping voices of my niece and nephew. I would have the BEST Vday because being single there were no expectations and zero chances of disappointment. I was free!

The Virgin, Gustav Klimt

I showed up to work wearing red silk pants and citrus-colored tops (in mid-winter), to a leitmotif of “Eros lives inside me.” I was oozing with a lust-for-life that was dizzying. I sat in work meetings like a love-sick teenager, swooning at the absolute gorgeousness and lovability of all these humans sitting around a conference table. So smart! So kind! What marvels of nature! As people spoke perfunctorily about ROIs and sales plans, my interior dialogue was a rapture of: “I love you! I love you too. Oh, I love YOU.”

I remember one gift from that year: A single girlfriend gave me a card, and a cute heart-shaped red hot water bottle. I used it for years, resting it on my lap or belly while reading on the couch or watching TV. I had such great fondness and appreciation for that HWB, cuddled with it for years, until it finally disintegrated.

This is not a story about an ordinary Valentine’s Day. It was extraordinary, and broke all the “rules”: I was single, expecting nothing, just kicking around downtown Seattle in a dot-com job, working 24/7, going home to my cozy one-bedroom where I lit a fire, and went to bed. I felt like the most sovereign bitch in the world, walking around with Eros smoldering inside me.

This is just a love note to say we can experience so much more than our thinking minds can imagine. Some of that is painful, and a lot of unimaginable events are currently unfolding. Still, there are the flickers of the unexpected and extraordinary always in play.

Let’s be there for the extraordinarily unimaginable moments, data, and seasons, and break all the rules 💃🏻💗

Hollyhock Pink with the Pedernal, Georgia O’Keeffe

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