The beginning of 2026 has been catastrophic! My emotions are reflected in my writing.
I have written about the violence in Minnesota and the tragic murders of Renee Nicole Good, 37, and Alex Pretti, 37.
I have written about the Monks Walking for Peace crossing 2300 miles of pavement with blistered feet and steady hearts. We watched as Venerable Bhikkhu Paññākāra and gentle Aloka completed their long journey toward Washington, D.C., carrying a message that felt almost fragile in a noisy world.
I have not written about my own unexpected health concerns.
I have written about the biggest gut punch for me, Teddy’s health concerns.
And now we arrive at Valentine’s Day.
A day about love.
Maybe that is not an accident.
Maybe it is exactly what we need.
This morning, as I wrapped my hands around my coffee mug, I wrote down the monks’ quiet instruction in my notebook:
Today will be my peaceful day.
Perhaps Valentine’s Day can help us begin again.
Where Did Valentine’s Day Begin?
Valentine’s Day is celebrated each year on February 14, but its roots stretch back much further than candy hearts and roses.
The holiday is traditionally associated with a Christian martyr named Saint Valentine, who lived in Rome in the third century.
During the reign of Claudius II, young men were forbidden to marry because the emperor believed single soldiers made better warriors. Valentine, a priest, quietly defied this order and performed marriages in secret. For this act of love and loyalty, he was imprisoned and eventually executed around the year 269 A.D.
Another legend suggests that while in prison, Valentine befriended the jailer’s daughter and signed a note to her, “From your Valentine.”
Whether fully factual or partly embroidered over time, the message remains the same: love in defiance of fear. Compassion in the face of power.
Interestingly, Valentine’s Day may also have roots in an ancient Roman festival called Lupercalia, celebrated in mid-February. It was a pagan fertility festival that marked the coming of spring. As Christianity spread, church leaders often prioritized Christian observances over earlier festivals, and February 14 came to be associated with Saint Valentine.
Centuries later, during the Middle Ages, the poet Geoffrey Chaucer linked February with romantic love in his writings. By the 1700s and 1800s in England and America, exchanging handwritten notes and tokens of affection had become common. Eventually, mass-produced greeting cards made the tradition widely accessible.
Today, Valentine’s Day is a commercial holiday, yes. But beneath the red foil and store displays is something older and steadier.
A quiet insistence that love matters.
Why It Still Matters
We live in a time when outrage spreads faster than kindness.
When headlines leave us breathless.
When even good intentions are questioned.
But Valentine’s Day, stripped down to its essence, asks something simple of us:
Whom do you love?
How will you show it?
And maybe even more importantly,
How will you embody it?
Love is not only romance. It is loyalty. It is a sacrifice. It is choosing patience when you could choose anger. It is writing to a sponsored child across the world. It is caring for an ill golden retriever with tenderness. It is walking barefoot for miles to call people back to compassion.
It is also smaller than that.
It is making coffee for someone before they wake up.
It is sending a message that says, I am thinking of you.
It is choosing not to escalate an argument.
It is breathing deeply and deciding that today will be peaceful.
Beginning Again
There is something beautiful about the timing.
The monks complete their walk for peace. The dust settles. The banners are folded. The miles are counted.
And then Valentine’s Day arrives, quietly reminding us that peace is not built in grand gestures alone. It is sustained by love.
Perhaps that is our invitation this year.
Not to ignore the heaviness of the world.
Not to pretend everything is fine.
But to begin again anyway.
To write on a small piece of paper, as the monks encouraged:
Today will be my peaceful day.
And then to act like it.
To call someone we have neglected.
To forgive something small.
To soften where we have hardened.
To let love be less of a slogan and more of a daily practice.
A Gentle Valentine’s Reflection
This morning, I am choosing to believe that love is not naive.
It is resilient.
It survived Roman prisons.
It survived centuries of change.
It survived commercialization and cultural shifts.
It can survive this moment, too.
So if the start of 2026 has felt like too much, consider this your quiet permission to pause.
Light a candle.
Write a note.
Pet a dog.
Take a deep breath.
And begin again.
Today will be my peaceful day.
And maybe, if enough of us choose it, it will ripple outward.
Happy Valentine’s Day. 💗
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