Hardly anything buoys the human spirit as the irrational wave of feeling loved.  Maybe, loving back is a close second.  I admit that I am anthropologically challenged and there may be cultures that address this quirky emotion in ways that I can’t comprehend, but I think it’s a safe bet to generalize the giddy, tingly, senselessness of it all to be nearly universal for humans with a reliable certainty validating the presence of love among other species.  We might as well face it.  Many are addicted to it.  I’m not sure that it makes the world go around, but it is without question as much of a drug as any pharmaceutical, although, despite my newly rekindled Beatlemania, it is NOT all you need.

If we loved each other as much as, say, New Yorkers  NY or if we simply practiced that “do unto” thing that pops up in religious dogma or if we loved Mother Nature as much as most of us love the women who raised us, perhaps we’d be on a trek toward a sunnier future.  Sadly, the lovers amongst us are losing the battle to the haters.  The Yang is kicking our butt.  The Summer of Love and We Are the World are ancient history and the armed and ready, swastika-inked MAGA mobs are out for blood and won’t be Hare Krishna-ed away.

History indicates that tides are fluid, that the weight of the pervasive darkness all around us is bound to lighten and swing back to our better nature.  I’m going with that for now and in the spirit of February 14, love thy neighbor, love thyself and if you can’t be with the one you love…love the one you’re with.