Certain sights send my heart soaring, but they’re not ones you’d expect.
I like clutter. I’m not talking the “I should be on an episode of Hoarders” clutter, but the kind that is proof of a life being lived. Whenever I look around a home – whether it is mine or a dear friend’s – these messes always call out to me and fill me with warmth and joy.
Slightly sinful, like eating a piece of fine chocolate before taking my vitamins.
Or checking something off my long “To Do” list before I have actually accomplished the task. Or going grocery shopping and deciding to treat myself to a leisurely lunch before going home. Only slightly sinful. Or should I call it “luxurious”? An act of self-care, for after all, the days have been busy, far too busy, and I deserve this.
Whenever I find that I cannot understand the world as I feel I ought to – or whenever I find that I do … but wish that I didn’t, I decide that I want to escape, and always return to the same place.
Italian philosopher Umberto Eco once said, “To survive, you must tell stories.” I believe him, because every time life chooses to become overbearing, as life inordinately does, I return to the story of Neverland, and I let it nourish my soul as only a dose of agelessness and fairy dust can.
“Remember there’s no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.” — Scott Adams
Every year around this time, heart-shaped candies and bouquets of red roses adorn the aisle ways of grocery stores and phrases like “Be Mine” are displayed in shop windows everywhere we look.
And every year around this time, we begin our search for the perfect gift to present to a loved one as a sign of affection because it’s Valentine’s Day. That’s what February 14th is all about, right?