A Touching Valentine's Day Story

Valentine's Day is the second most marketed event after Christmas. It shows. It has become a celebration of consumerism rather than romance or love. The economic meltdown has dented spending on this Valentine's day. The New York Times reported on couples that had to forgo thousands of dollars worth of gifts and dining out. Only in the New York Times would one find a story describing one couple's choice of store bought foie gras as a sacrifice. I can't help but imagine that once upon a time Valentine's Day was more genuine, sincere, and heartfelt. That it was about true displays of love and commitment and not about contrived or artificial romance.

Where can I find a touching Valentine's Day story?

On the other side of the world, there are men in India who are beating up women celebrating Valentine's Day and destroying Valentine's Day cards. As one of my friends pointed out, if they really wanted to be "efficient" they could beat up the men who purchase the cards in the first place, but I sense that there's something deeper going on. It's gratifying to see how some Indian women are responding. But it is within neighboring Pakistan that I find inspiration. Not that Pakistan is faring any better with women's rights.

ABC News ran a story today about acid attack victims in Pakistan. Apparently, 80% of women in Pakistan are victims of domestic violence. A young woman who married told her husband that she would not move into his family's house. He decided that an appropriate response was throwing acid on her face. Most women who are victims of this reprehensible abuse end up being ostracized or outcast. There is at least some movement in Pakistan to deal with this horrific problem. ABC described a "beauty salon" (for lack of a better term) that offers beauty treatments, medical care, and job training for acid attack victims.

The young woman in the story is part of this beauty salon. Her father is supportive of her involvement, but his support goes well beyond this. When asked about how he feels about his daughter, he said the following:

"My daughter is very beautiful...I'm even MORE proud of her than I am of my sons..."

I think only South Asians might be able to appreciate the true power of this statement--one that challenges too many of 1.3 billion people to stop acting like jerks when it comes to gender relations. When this young woman was asked about her experience and the beauty salon, she said, "When I look in the mirror, I still ask myself 'why me?'...now that I'm here I feel courage...I have hope." I get the impression that with her father's love and support, she'll never remain a victim for long.

Public displays of affection, especially between men and women of any age or relationship, remain rare in South Asia. At the end of the news story, the father walks through a gate. His daughter sees him, smiles beautifully--some things even acid can't destroy--and hugs him. He warmly hugs her back.

Now that is a touching Valentine's Day story.

Bravo David Beckham

David Beckham reached an impressive milestone by securing his 108th cap for the English soccer team. Matching Bobby Moore's field player record for most caps--especially in this era of football--is quite an accomplishment. What's more impressive is Beckham's transformation. When he moved to the LA Galaxy, most observers (including me!) had written him off and cast him as an entertainer rather than a soccer player. Ruud Gullit has spoken about the difficulties of managing in the MLS. Aside from having its season at a different time than other soccer leagues, the games do not occur with any regular timing. I'm sure these factors make it hard as well for a player who grew up in European soccer.

Despite these challenges, Beckham has raised his game considerably to the point where he deserved to be on the pitch against Spain. In fact, he played better than most of the English squad. When he was captain of the squad, he seemed more intent on appreciating the elegance of his passes or free kicks rather than leading. It was quite something to watch him working the ref, yelling at his teammates, and floating toward the back line to get touches of the ball. He used to be too focused on his marketability. Even in this respect, he's raised his game. It's quite a gesture for him to donate his shirt from the Spain match to the charitable foundation bearing Bobby Moore's name.

I mocked David Beckham when he joined the LA Galaxy. I'll gladly eat some humble pie. I'm happy to admit that I'm cheering for him to make his move to AC Milan permanent and add more caps with the English national team.

Philosophy of life

I've looked to many sources for inspiration about living life. I recall reading in Joseph Campbell's The Power of Myth, Bill Moyers' account of a response from a Japanese Shinto priest. When asked about his ideology of life, the priest apparently paused as though in deep thought, and then slowly shook his head. "I think we don't have ideology," he said. "We don't have theology. We dance."

I'm not there yet.

I've always been drawn to the visual over the textual for inspiration. Joseph Campbell provided context for my reactions to the archetypal messages from the original Star Wars that inspired me as a child (no, I'm not going to use the Lucas revisionist renaming scheme). The title of this blog is inspired by my favorite scene from the Lord of the Rings movies (though it is true that I first experienced those stories in print). Perhaps the most intense textual experience came from Victor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning.

Music has always been an inspiration, ranging from a spellbinding moment of Branford Marsalis' improvisation during a rendition of Fauré's Requiem with the Baltimore Symphony to Tim Finn's lyrics from his song Through the Years:

"I want to be oblivious,
To everything that worries us,
I want to learn the secrets of the universe."

Tim Finn also added:

"I'm never gonna find the answer;
It's never gonna be
Exactly what I hoped it was,
But it's good enough for me."

I like to think that I'm half cat, but that doesn't quite capture my philosophy either. More than anything, I find that my friends are the greatest source of inspiration. Recently, one of my friends wrote a wonderful piece about living life that cites Lin Yutang:

"Lin Yutang’s ideal is the ‘scamp’ – an amiable loafer who wanders through life, learning, loving, living. He is a good-natured Renaissance Man, dabbling here and there, connoisseur of nothing, dilettante extraordinaire. He is earthbound, a man of his biology and of his senses. (For Lin, happiness is “largely a matter of digestion.” He favorably quotes a college president who admonished his freshmen that “There are only two things I want you to keep in mind: read the Bible, and keep your bowels open.”) Lin’s loafing scamp is a profoundly embodied mind, not a brain on a stick. And most of all, he’s eminently ‘reasonable’ – a trait Lin mentions throughout, and points to as the very foundation of the Chinese character."

A loafing scamp. I like that--a lot. Now if I could only learn how to dance...