Whiskers of Self-Love

Valentine’s Day, a celebration that brings joy to many but raises an unspoken question for some: What is love? This query, in all its complexity, wandered through my thoughts as I sat among twenty single individuals at a dinner gathering last weekend. A group of Christian strangers, each with their own vision of love, perspectives drawn from different places and experiences.

We were connected by faith, but each of us was navigating our own path to understanding what it means to love, to give, and to receive love in return.

The contrast between the room full of people and the stillness of my thoughts was profound. It was in this reflective space that my mind drifted, not toward the answers my companions might offer, but into a story, a fable that would speak to love in a way that transcends the ordinary.

It begins with a small cat, a curious feline from a humble town, whose dreams were bigger than the narrow streets he had known. His heart swelled with hope as he made his way toward the city, seeking not just the love he had read about, but something more, a connection, a belonging, something that could resonate with the very depths of his being.

The city was alive with color. Streets shimmered beneath the glow of lanterns, and the air buzzed with the excitement of carnival festivities. Music floated through the streets, and laughter erupted like fireworks as people of all shapes and sizes, from all walks of life, came together to celebrate. But for the little cat, something was amiss.

The noise, the crowd, the unfamiliar faces, all of it seemed to press in on him, urging him to take a detour, to stray from the throngs of dancers and revelers, and to wander down an unassuming side street. It was here, amidst the clamor, that he found himself lost, small and vulnerable in the vastness of the port city.

In his search for direction, the cat stumbled upon a restaurant, its warm light spilling out onto the street, inviting him in. Inside, the atmosphere was different: quieter, more intimate. The walls were lined with photographs of smiling faces, and the soft clink of silverware on plates provided a backdrop to the hum of conversation. At the center of the room was a dance floor, where couples, cats and other animals alike, were swaying to the rhythm of the music. They weren’t just dancing; they were sharing stories, exchanging words of love.

Our little cat hesitated, unsure of what he was meant to do in this space. He had come seeking something, but he wasn’t sure what that was. And yet, as he stood there, scanning the room, he noticed something familiar. A striking figure in the center of the dance floor, a famous singer, known for her melodic voice, which had echoed through libraries and concert halls alike. Her music was poetry, her presence electric. But it was not her fame that captivated him, it was the warmth in her eyes, the unspoken stories of her heart.

He approached her hesitantly. She greeted him with a smile, and they danced together under the dim lights. Their movements were not just synchronized but seemed to transcend time, as if they had known each other for years. The music swirled around them, and for a moment, the cat felt a connection, a bond between two kindred spirits.

They talked, they laughed, and they shared in the joy of the evening. But as the night wore on, a truth began to settle within him. He was happy. He didn’t need to declare his feelings, didn’t need to possess her heart. In this space, on this night, he realized that love, true love, was not something to be sought from others, but something that had always resided in him. It was the love he had for himself, for the courage it took to journey into the unknown, for the simple joy of being in the moment, without expectation.

The evening came to a close, and the cat left the restaurant, his heart full but unburdened. He had come to the city seeking love, but what he found was something even more profound: the confirmation that love, in all its forms, begins within. He didn’t need to look outside of himself to find what he had been seeking. He only needed to look inward.

As I lost myself in this tale, my thoughts were interrupted. One of the dinner hosts, who had been quietly observing the room, turned to me. “Eduardo, how do you define love?” she asked.

The question lingered in the air, simple yet profound, like a spark that demanded to be caught and examined. It pierced through the quiet of my thoughts, a challenge to unravel the very thing I had been wrestling with for so long. “How do you define love?” The words echoed in my mind, alive with possibility.

There’s no easy answer. For some, love is a grand gesture, a passionate fire that burns so bright it consumes them whole. For others, love is softer, quieter, a bond that builds slowly over time, stitched together with shared glances, quiet understanding, and moments that only two souls can understand.

But maybe the truest form of love is the one we create within ourselves. A love that doesn’t demand validation from anyone else. A love that simply exists because we are worthy of it, because we are enough, just as we are.

Love is not something that can be boxed into a single definition. It’s a spectrum, a dance between light and shadow. It’s a journey that often leads us to the places we never expected, into the quiet moments, the stillness, when we least anticipate it.

As the little cat discovered, the most beautiful love stories are the ones that begin within us. True love isn’t something to chase; it’s something to nurture.

When we learn to love ourselves fully, we become capable of giving and receiving love with a depth and clarity that can transform everything around us. Love Isn’t something you buy; it’s the quiet flame that burns within. It’s steady, patient, and real. it simply is.