By Valentine’s Day has an equivalent in Romania and it’s called Dragobete’s Day. It’s celebrated today, February 24th. Legend says that Dragobete was the very kind and loving son of a woman called Dochia. This old woman was in charge of the passage of winter towards spring. Some sources state that due to his special kindness, Dragobete was chosen by Virgin Mary to be the guardian of love. Protecting people from illness, from falling out of love, Dragobete is about joy, beauty, singing, the celebration of spring and love. Some associate him with Cupid or Eros, but February 24th is also connected to a Christian (orthodox) celebration related to John the Baptist.
If I would want to celebrate love on this day, February 24th, 2022, I would first need to forget about the world. Entirely. To ignore all its terrible actions – visible or invisible – or to realize my own limited and limiting perception, and the expectations I might have regarding love. I might discover that my personal semantics would have little in common with the usual definitions of love. I might fail to recognize love in many situations where others are invoking it. I might feel awkward (or from another world) seeing that what drives people to fight against each other and even kill one another is many times called love, too. Love for their propriety, for their traditions, for their religious beliefs, for what they think-believe-learned, for what their body wants or even needs.
How come we should fight for love? How come we should fight for peace? Why should we FIGHT AT ALL? That natural survival instinct contains this killing appetite, this impulse to “fight to exist”. Is it contained in the very fabric of life? Or is it present only in the context of existence in a physical body, here, on Earth? Of course it’s just about the body, otherwise, the rooted beliefs about a paradise, the deep imprinted hope and expectation for an eternal love, the testimonies of the wise men from all ages about that love permeated highest realm of experience, would not exist.
Who teaches us to fight? Parents, teachers, leaders, the system, the perpetuating field of information filled with the same repetitive patterns of history? Is it the will of the people or the will of the leaders, playing like children to fulfil their wishes?
I bet there are many other people who might say that they know (remember) a life where there is no such thing as fighting, hurting, lying, killing, punishing others for their existence. They might experience/live Life and Love in different ways which might place them at the edge of humanity. They might even form the circle that holds the rest of humanity from losing its life, from falling.
Falling beyond love or out of love is getting lost in the space of fear, hatred, fight. Falling out of love is becoming ill – or evil, some might say.
A few days ago there was so much fuss and celebrations and meditations for love, love for the entire planet, for humankind…
I personally felt the need to heal love itself, this love that pushes people to fight and suffer, to heal the word that encircles our human experience like in a dream or mass hypnosis. That’s why I had that webinar last Sunday, The Word Workshop, dedicated to only one word: LOVE. I realized there is such an enormous mass of pain, wounds, unconscious suffering in this mental realm that surrounds the human experience. One cannot be aware of their wounds and their mind’s programming software unless they have the courage to want to know the truth; and then, the willingness to heal.
On Dragobete’s Day, young men and women, boys and girls, go out in the woods to search for snowdrops and kiss each other, embrace, and sing. The look of these tiny little white flowers is very delicate, but they are so powerful and brave. They are the first flowers to come out from the snow, ringing their bells and letting the rest of the nature know that spring is coming. A Romanian saying warns us that it’s not spring just because one snowdrop has appeared. But when the woods are filled with snowdrops, spring has definitely arrived. With each brave human who dares heal their fear, dares live the love beyond this duality that eats our light, rebirth is closer. I haven’t seen a snowdrop today, but I hope I can keep hoping for a beautiful and peaceful spring.
May Pure Love heal us all!
P.S. I seek to find refuge in poetry… even if words create worlds.
Between the wor(l)ds
A life between the worlds
(my-world, I-world, your-world)
between the shadows of the words
(an ongoing process, the process of going on)
in a quest for a reality of beauty and of joy
(serenity of love, love of serenity)
we found our pulse beaming that white and golden light
(over all of the shadows, over the shadows of all)
beyond the prism of black and white, into our world.
Worlds of Words 