My everloving gift to you darkling on this hallmarked V Day is to know and deeply understand love's greatest truth. That your capacity for love is utterly and absolutely a function of your self love. Truly madly deeply. The most important relationship you will ever have is with your own hummingbird heart.

We don't fall in love. Not ever at first, we rise in it. Our hearts bloom and our blood rushes. Blessed as love even briefly takes its shoes off at our front door, enters without knocking and makes a hell of a smiling mess in our kitchen. We rest snug and delighted in the first flush. Love blossoms simpatico. The strings in our chest gently plucked by another who may have walked on by a hundred other days.

Valentines Day is named for the 5th century saint who used to marry couples in secret and was brutally murdered for his trouble. Terribly romantic unless you are St Valentine and his hung drawn and quartered heart. The celebration Hallmark nicked and beat up into V Day was originally the ancient Roman festival of Lupercalia.

Oh Valentines Day, here you are again already. Another Hallmark hero looming over us and the lore behind the day swallowed up in a sea of satin hearts and overpriced roses. Tosh.

Valentines Day is the ultimate wolf in sheep's clothing.

Oh Valentines Day, here you are again already lover. Another Hallmark hero looming over us and the lore behind the day swallowed up in a sea of satin hearts and overpriced roses. Tosh.

A great many of these blessings hinge on love and trust, acceptance and surrender to forces greater than ourselves. Personally I prefer to give the significant bullshit attached to this day in the modern world the bird and focus instead on honouring my she-wolf and showering her with the love and affection afforded to me to bestow. Bright blessings to your inner wolf this day. Long may she roam.