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Tag: #sadness

This is My World. And That’s Alright With Me

Why is sadness a bad thing?
Should we all always allineate with the herd?
Fish find fluid fine to breathe,
That is their reality; their particular world.
What if sadness is mine?
The air that circulates in my lungs;
The Oxygen coursing through my veins
Bringing life to the cells that structure this frame?
Who are you, Happy Person, to judge my reality?

Yes, tears stand ready to serve me at a drop of the hat.
And, yes, my throat tightens and constricts when I gaze at you.
What makes that any different than the derision that you
Hold for me that erupts in guffaws and laughter?

No!
You don’t get to judge my world.
But, I will hold yours responsible for the
Hurt; the damage and destruction that your
Unreasoning judgment has wrought on me
And those who limp through this existence
Like I do.

My sadness is my crown and You cannot take it from me.

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Introspection

I’m getting older.

Ok. That’s no surprise to anyone. We all are.

But, as I approach retirement sometime next year, I’ve spent considerable time in self-reflection. I search within to see if there actually has been any purpose to this life of mine.

I find little there.

Yeah, I followed the path that stretched before me. A path, by the way, that was mapped and defined by minds and wills other than my own. I have had my shares of humanity’s ubiquitous ‘Ups and Downs.’ Clearly, nothing out of the ordinary. I experienced many things that others have not. Some good; some not so much. Overall, my time walking this life has been functional, yet nondescript.

I have not had to struggle like so many in the world. Creature comforts have been available to me. I don’t need to walk 5 miles to a common well in order to have water to drink. There are several taps in my house that readily deliver that life sustaining liquid. Nor, am I required to sit and beg or dive into dumpsters for food. My local Mega Mart has everything that I could possibly want or need to satisfy the grumbling in my gut. Clothes, shelter, family…all of the things that seem to define the so-called American Dream have materialized before me.

So, what do I lack? For I must lack something.

In all of my travels and experiences I have never truly experienced happiness.

Maybe, happiness is simply overrated. I was told many years ago that as a Christ follower I should have something called ‘Joy.’ They said that happiness is nothing but a counterfeit version of Joy. We should not seek that at all.

But, when in every waking moment it feels like I have a Dementor from the world of Harry Potter sitting on my shoulder, well, something is amiss.

People I talk to about this don’t understand. They look at the stuff I have and the things that I’ve experienced and tell me that I should be glad.

Yet, the emptiness, the sadness remain.

“See a doctor and get some medication because what you describe sounds like simple depression that can easily be treated.”

Nope. Been there; done that. Medication doesn’t help. It only flattens my emotions until I feel nothing at all. Better to feel pain than everlasting numbness.

“Jesus is the answer to all of your problems.”

I’m sorry to say that’s simply not true. Contrary to what so many in the fundagelical world say, there is no God Shaped hole in us that only Jesus can fill. But, there does seem to be something that is missing. But, God isn’t it.

“Eat, drink, and be merry,” Qoheleth encourages. For what else is there for humanity to enjoy? Well, I can do one of those three things. Drinking is off the table because, well, I’m a recovering alcoholic and that wouldn’t be a good thing. Be merry? Well, that’s kind of the point of this post. Being merry eludes me.

Now, before anyone decides that I must be broken and that you are the one person in the world appointed to fix me.

Don’t. Please.

I’m not broken.

Sad? Yes.

Lonely? Ok.

Unsatisfied? Definitely.

But, this is how I feel. And, yes, feelings matter.

I have no intention of throwing in the towel and surrendering to despair. I also have no intention of lying to myself about my own reality.

Yeah, I’m getting older. But, as Dylan Thomas wrote,

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

I intend to follow his lead.

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