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a moment of melancholy

There are things, comfortably written and comfortably hidden, that are presently causing a bout of melancholy in my spirit. I have pondered such moods in the past, both during them and after their passing, and have often seen them somewhat negatively. However, while not wanting in the least to crave saddness, I am no longer desiring to rid myself of these sentiments until they have performed the work they have come for. Today I wrote an reflection on the poem of San Juan de la Cruz, ¡O llama de amor viva!, and it reached deep within and shed light on many emotions that otherwise were being hushed silent by some misguided sense of propriety and maturity.Now, there is simply the reality that I am full of pensiveness, and consumed by a lack of much motive to aught save floating on my back upon these heavy waters. I am amplifying the mood, I am sure, with iTunes quietly playing Drone Zone, however often it is the dark and quiet and lonely moments in life that allow us to see ourselves most closely, and for me, to weaken my will which so often withholds emotion that is screaming inside to be let out. To escape vagueness, I am not a crier, however my eyes are heavy tonight.

It is a wonder to me that people, no matter the place on earth, the amount of wealth, the years of age, have these feelings. We are a feeling species. It is really a glorious experience … to feel … I wonder why we are so poor at communicating when we have so much in common. I remember sitting outside a Subway one evening back in 1996 discussing the notion of a common thread strung between us all. This was before I knew or talked of the image of God, and yet despite not being aware of God’s presence in any particular sense, I was still recognizing the invisible sameness in each of us. It tears me that despite this we live so much like we are not the same. Certainly some see this connection with our friends and families, but perhaps we are to love our neighbours, not only as we love ourselves, but perhaps because we love ourselves and in order to love ourselves. And we love ourselves in order to love our neighbours.

I wonder why when I walk to school tomorrow I will pass by so many neighbours and we will exchange superficially what we could be exchanging at the deepest level of our soul.

I wonder why when we are really all one we leave beautiful little children in large old buildings with little love and care? Don’t we realize we are hurting ourselves?

I wonder why so often I choose to live as something other than human?

… a thought for a little friend of mine …

it is shattering
to know that i am a star
and you go to bed before dark.
—
quebranta para saber
que you soy una estrella
y te acuestas entes de oscuras.

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