Oh, there's no earth-shattering catastrophe. I'm just too sad to beam.
For us there is only one season, the season of sorrow. The very sun and moon seem taken from us. Outside, the day may be blue and gold, but the light that creeps down through the thickly-muffled glass of the small iron-barred window beneath which one sits is grey and niggard. It is always twilight in one's cell, as it is always twilight in one's heart. And in the sphere of thought, no less than in the sphere of time, motion is no more. ~ Oscar Wilde
I'm floating right along that teetering edge of despair. I can't explain why in any sort of convincing way, even to myself. In some ways, I'm just irrational.
I try to bolster all sorts of positive things inside, but it's not working. My happy place has slid away from me. I can't write. I can't sing. I can't seem to distract myself with any of the things I would normally enjoy. I can't even cry.
It happens to everyone, sometime.
So this blog is all about sharing things of joy, things that make me beam on and on and on, but I feel alienated, joyless, incapable of beaming.
Maybe it's a good time to ask others: What beams you on - especially when you're overwhelmingly sad for no good reason?
3 comments:
Here is the paradox. One may choose to focus on the dark recesses of the soul or to give rein to a soaring spirit.
Long ago I saw the movie, "Lost Horizon" (Ronald Coleman & Jane Wyatt), about a place called Shangri-la, and I have never been convinced that it's purely mythical.
I remember that movie, and I agree. Sometimes it's not so much about choice. I would love to choose to be soaring right now.
A good book and a block of chocolate. Most times though I am so good at hiding those things I even hide from myself.
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