Senya Says

Senya says there isn’t any sense in waiting around for someone else to sweep you off your feet—sometimes you just have to make romance for yourself.

Romance doesn’t have to be chocolate-covered strawberries and rose petals strewn across the bed. It isn’t just moonlit walks arm in arm, or a candlelit dinner for two. It is about enjoying the uniqueness of the moment, stopping to smell the tulips and soak in the stars. Senya proposes a broader definition of romance, one that doesn’t exclude singletons or those with prosaic partners, where romance can be the early morning fog in your backyard or the sound of crickets at night.

It can be as simple as using the good sheets and the expensive perfume; as modest as delighting in everyday life, relishing the beauty in the mundane. Romance can be the coffee and silence you savor before the rest of the house wakes. It can be a walk downtown or a drive through the countryside.

For me, it is the ferry to Victoria, the potholes in Sooke, the sunset over English Bay, Stanley Park on a crisp summer morning. It is sitting on a wooden deck next to Lost Lagoon while swans float by, a turtle stretches out on a rock, raccoons beg for food. It is twilight in Vancouver, when the sun ducks behind the high-rises, the purple-blue sky, the strips of pink on the edge of the skyline, the vibrations of youth and energy in the air. It is an afternoon retracing my steps along the cobblestones of Gastown. It is the lights and opulence of Coal Harbour after dark. It is mussels for one on False Creek.

It is all the places where I can just be, where I can take it all in. It is being on top of Spencer’s Butte when the clouds are low. It is sitting by a fire next to the McKenzie River. It is standing behind waterfalls and wading across creeks. It is meandering through the capitol mall, Oregon in springtime, under ivy and cherry blossoms. It is getting up early enough to see the sunrise and hear the birds chirp. It is a walk on the beach. The winter sun, the crashing waves, the mist over the water, it is all still there even without someone to hold my hand. It is the smell of fallen apples, of grapevines. It is the riverfront lights twinkling in the water. It is coasting down the promenade on a cruiser. It is a bottle of red wine and gourmet cheese shared with friends. It is a fancy dinner without distractions, permission to be enchanted by cuisine and ambiance.

Much of what we consider romance is novel—novel experiences and novel places. But if we sit around waiting for someone else to whisk us off to somewhere new, we may never experience those places or experiences. Don’t miss out on Paris for a lover that will never get away from the office or Hawaii just because you are single. Go by yourself, go with friends, make memories, take pictures, enjoy the moments while you have them. Make your own definition. Whatever you choose, the point is to never sell yourself short on romance just because you don’t have someone to share it with.

If love makes colors brighter, food taste better, life richer, why shouldn’t it apply to everyone? Too many of us are living in black and white. We cannot imagine a holiday alone in anything more than drab shades of gray. And when we stroll through the park we don’t see the tender shoots of grass draped in mist, we don’t hear the baby birds sing or the squirrels chatter. Attitude is everything. We have to commit to the now in the same way we would if we were with a lover. Push the thoughts from our heads, especially the negative ones. Pace is key. Go slow. Stop to admire the way the sun shines under a bridge. Don’t rush past the spider web dusted in dew. Notice how it sparkles, how it reflects life. Take it all in: the fresh air, the ripple of a brook, the clouds that paint the sky.

Romance is that simple. Broken down to its most basic element, all it is, is slowing down enough to admire the magnificence of life. That is what couples do as they wander through botanical gardens and cuddle on the beach at sunset. They slow down enough to experience the sights, the sounds, the smells. It is as simple as that. All of the beauty in life is still there whether someone else has their arm around you or not. That’s what Senya says.