Mistletoe

Among the many activities that can be called quintessentially human – from sleep to warfare- none stands out as much as kissing. Experts vary in their opinions regarding the origins of the practice with theories as diverse as 1) the biological: (kissing is the human adaptation to mother birds feeding their young) 2) the physical:( there are more nerve endings in the lips than elsewhere in the body) and 3) the spiritual : the Vedic tradition that the act is sharing the breath of life with the beloved. The confusion is furthered by the many types of kissing such as : the kiss of death, the kiss of betrayal (see Judas), the kiss of peace. Kissing is flat out HUGE.

Today we drove to the homes of the Gang of Eight and surreptitiously dropped off sprigs of mistletoe to celebrate the Christmas Season. There is controversy here too. Some say we owe the mistletoe tradition to the Celtic Druids while others give the credit to the early Norse culture. In any case, the tradition abides.

Poets have waxed eloquent in this arena. Shakespeare (“kiss me Kate!”) Marlowe (“Make me immortal with a kiss.”) and thousands of other wordsmiths have indulged in the pleasures of the kiss. My favorite is Shelley : “sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me.” This sentiment has the fixation on pleasure, selfishness and self-esteem that can be wrapped into a simple snog.

I am a big fan of kissing.

Now-lost in zoom land – the art of the kiss has been compromised. Compromised, but not lost. We can still plant one on those that share our bubble. In fact, it is a good idea to kiss as much as possible because technique is important and practice will make perfect. Walk up to those you love and plant a wet one with authority. While Covid is wildly skewing the death rate, there is a possibility to increase the birth rate as well.

It starts with a kiss….