lonewolf

Do you ever write something in a hurry, without trying to be all that clever, and then read back and realize you’re pretty proud of the language you came up with? That happened to me a few minutes ago. In the same scenario as yesterday, I was answering a reader’s comment, but with only a short time to write. To my surprise, and with shameless lack of modesty, I think the product deserves to be in a place of honor. It captures the essence of my current strategy for getting through life, for feeling OK about the moods I’ve been blessed with (not ‘condemned to’–read on.) Since I am also lucky to be going sailing today—first time in maybe six years—I don’t have time for anything that takes more thought anyway. Here’s the comment and my brief response:
Hi Will,
I found this post really insightful and interesting.
I too was very struck by the idea of ’sitting with’ the depression, pain, etc when I read your initial post about it.
I have to say that in some ways, I can imagine it to be a relief to just stop running and fighting.
WS

Dear WonderingSoul–

It is indeed a relief. It almost seems perverse, but I recently sat in a restaurant by myself in a pretty low mood. My state was not utter, crushing blackness, but more along the lines of a crumpled piece of carbon paper: confused, battered, and dusted with coal. Yet I looked around, feeling disconnected and foreign just a few miles from my home, and found a satisfied understanding of my role in the world. There are those who touch the third rail of joy every chance they get, and seem cheerful and delighted. Some people like that persuade me that they just put on a show: they sometimes say as much. But others actually feel a happy thrill at being alive. They get to be that kind of witness to life’s carnival. If I were a reporter for God’s newspaper, I would be covering the crime beat. The aftermath of mass murders, sadistic rapes, child abductions, and arson would fill my day. I suppose I might prefer the ‘lifestyles’ section of the paper, but bringing tragedy to light is a noble task. I see a side of life that others either can’t see or, more likely, don’t want to. For me, the bleakness is unavoidable. It looks back at me from mirrors, and haunts the corridors of my memory. It is my privilege to see this side of life, which is a real and important aspect of human existence. Of course, it is also my curse. But at that moment in the local eatery, I felt good about who I am, and the shadowy places in which I dwell.

–Will

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