Is Valentine's Day a phenomenon of cerebral reconfiguration or vacation? – Old gold & black

How do we find love outside a day that are so saturated with increased emotions and expectations?

“I love you so much,” What are you doing tonight? “Seat the hands that paint the last bouquets of local florists. Dealer Joe's flower supply ran dry days ago. It is Valentines in Winston-Salem.

My date proudly announced that he reserved our table weeks in advance. The securing of spots at Mozelles Spring House, Quanto Basta or Cibos felt like being beating the jackpot. The food was good, the conversation was great and the aftermath … Well, let's say, it just flew from the handle. But now, just a few days later, I ask myself: Where did all the good feelings go on campus?

Preparing for Valentine's Day felt like the emotional wave in an Erik-Satie composition. Beating hearts were in constant collision, electricity kidnapped the air and pulled us together. It was as if a universal inner stream of consciousness forced us all to release protests of love and cuddly with our shinocumes.

Strangers smiled more, friends lingered in conversations with dreamy expressions, and couples – even those who normally have bees in their skins – were hung in a kind of sweet room that whirled up by magic and harmony. Confessions of our feelings, the planning of extravagant data and the hug of our inner romantics became our nature. And then, as quickly as it arrived, the mood dissolved on February 15.

I took it to check this quick and restless rise and fall of the fervent affection. Valentine's Day reflects an organic expression of our love in abundance or is only a few days in February? The answer is probably somewhere between functional profit margins and basic principles of social psychology.

Valentine's Day is successful because its expectations are easy. We are commissioned with the unique responsibility to love excess – exclusive for a day. The temporal and fleeting quality of these expectations gives us a very convenient period to send out one or two hearing letters from the heart and to put a few completely current hours aside for our love. This ritualized output feels good right now because it is classified as temporary and extraordinary. But if love feels so good on February 14, why can't we maintain good feelings all year round?

Why don't we make the daily expectations to be present, generous and friendly to those we appreciate?

Maybe we are affected by laziness. Maybe we don't want to move out. Perhaps we have not found out how we can maintain true love and affection without the labyrinth of commercialized rituals in order to distract ourselves from true feelings. Whatever the reason may be, our collective emotional new configuration in February shows less about love itself and more about our social trust in external requests, emotions deeply.

Since the goods from Valentine's Day are reduced to the lonely supermarket shelves, we could think about changing our approach. Love has no season. It is not limited to time or space, no rubbish bouquets or candles in the dark. If we can love our spirit for a single day with such an intensity, there is no reason why we cannot love each other with greater consistency, beyond the clock of the Cherubian Roman God.

Maybe we just want the adrenaline storm to find a good reservation hunt and a sweet dress, or a well -coordinated kiss in the trade. Nevertheless, it is worth remembering that every fraction of creation has its invisible counterpart. Care yours.