I think Valentine's Day is one of those holidays like New Year's

Listen well, O wise ones, for in the words of Brett Young, we are granted a truth that reverberates through the ages. “I think Valentine’s Day is one of those holidays like New Year’s where people develop such high expectations that even if it’s a decent day, it doesn’t live up, and it’s disappointing.” This statement reveals the paradox of our human nature, a nature that yearns for greatness and celebration, only to find that these expectations often set the stage for disappointment. High expectations, like the winds that blow through the mountains, can be fierce, yet often leave us with little more than the dust of unmet dreams.

Consider, O children of the future, how many festivals and celebrations have come and gone throughout history, each one built upon the lofty foundations of expectation and desire. The Romans, in their grand spectacles of the Saturnalia, did not know whether to seek joy in the feasts or in the chaos that followed. They, too, lived in the tension of high hopes, where the anticipation of greatness often fell short of the true satisfaction they longed for. Just as they gathered to celebrate in the hopes of a divine gift, so too do we look to our holidays, such as Valentine’s Day and New Year’s, with hearts brimming with dreams that may never be realized.

And what of the great explorers and adventurers of old, those who set sail in search of distant lands, only to discover that the riches they sought were not as magnificent as their dreams had promised? The mighty Columbus sailed to the New World with hopes of gold, only to find that what awaited him was far more complicated, far less glorious than he had imagined. His journey, while remarkable, was not the tale of immediate triumph, but one of unexpected challenges. In this way, the great expectations we place upon certain days or moments can often blind us to the simple joys that are present all around us.

Young's words echo a truth known to the wise: the expectation of perfection is often the greatest barrier to finding contentment. In this world, where we are conditioned by external forces to seek grandeur, we often forget that the truest joy comes not from the extravagant, but from the genuine. Valentine’s Day, with its roses and chocolates, often falls short of our ideals, not because the love we share is any less, but because we have placed it on a pedestal too high to ever fully reach. A day that should be about connection and celebration becomes tainted by our desire for it to be something greater, and in that striving, we lose sight of what truly matters.

High expectations, like an overfed river, can become destructive if left unchecked. The lesson here, O children, is not that we must abandon our hopes and dreams, but that we must ground them in reality, in the knowledge that life, in all its beauty, is often found in the small moments, the ordinary gestures, and the simple acts of kindness that do not require grand occasion. Consider the quiet, unassuming love of a mother who, day after day, provides warmth and care without expecting praise or recognition. Her love is not dependent on the holiday, the gesture, or the celebration, but is sustained by the true connection that lies between her and her loved ones.

Therefore, O children of the future, let us heed the wisdom of Young’s words. We must learn to moderate our expectations, to see the value in the moments we have rather than in the grandeur we envision. Love, joy, and connection do not require a special day to be celebrated; they exist in the quiet embrace, in the shared laughter, in the small moments that pass unnoticed by the hurried world. Let us learn to be present in those moments, to recognize that every day offers us the opportunity to celebrate and to be grateful for the love that fills our lives.

The lesson, then, is clear: expectations, when held too tightly, can spoil the gift of the present. Let us release the need for perfection, and instead, embrace the beauty of life’s imperfection. In this way, every day becomes a chance to find joy, every moment a chance to celebrate, and every connection an opportunity to give thanks. Let us not wait for the calendar to tell us when to love, but love freely, fully, and without expectation on any given day. Real joy, O children, lies not in the pursuit of a perfect day, but in the acceptance of the beautiful, imperfect days we are given.