{ are we there yet? }

...music and poetry, the mere face of a girl, the song of a bird, or the sight of a horizon,

are always blowing evil’s whole structure away.

{ c.s. lewis }

i was talking with a friend last night. we sat on the floor of a great empty room. our whispers were quieter and our laughing was louder because of the way the space held us.

there are people in our lives who carry a heaviness, and we don't know what to do about it. in our circles, there are things you should say to someone who's struggling, but many of us have developed an immunity to the effectiveness of these things. to the words, even.

they say there's linings made of silver

folded inside each raining cloud

well, we need someone to deliver

our silver lining now

what can you say to someone who hurts, when words aren't enough?
when there are no words?
what can do you do for someone when there's no relief?
when there are no actions gentle enough or powerful enough
to address what's happened?

and are we there yet?

are we there yet?

we didn't come to any real conclusions. i think that's the point. there are no answers for some things. in fact, we probably dishonor the eventual meaning of our pain by scrambling to erase and forget it...by trying to wring it of its meaning before the right time.

i think of simpler times: when humans rose with the sun and rested when it rested. when they worked with the earth to bear fruit, and lived on the results (or scraped by on the lack thereof). no doubt there were unhealthy family dynamics, low life expectancy, and many things unknown back then. but you strove alongside each other under the same wide-open sky, and rejoiced when the hay reached the rafters. when the coolness of night fell, so did the ceaseless movement of your hands.

i think of times now: we have more knowledge, medical advances, technology. we acquire more, we can be productive long past the setting of the sun. we live longer. but are we better off? in some ways, yes. but what's the point of stockpiling more and living longer if the things and the time don't give anything to us? my friend made the good point that physical exertion has so much to do with our well-being. survival used to depend on backbreaking work year-round. in our modern age, depending on your location, exercise is something we might have to pay to be able to do year-round. not only that, but our livelihoods don't necessitate physical activity. we have to find time (make time? sacrifice time?) for it.

i don't think people are happier now than they were before vaccinations, chemotherapy, viagra, iphones, and in-flight wifi. i just think we employ more sophisticated measures to dress up our emptinesses.

(some questions: is it the aim of life to be "happy"?)

(should it be?)

(what is happiness?)

so how to ward off pervasive discontentment? how to preserve the precious infrastructures of our souls? how to guard our borders against the ever-advancing desert, slow the creep of choking ivy, stand firm in the gale forces of time?

this is too much

this is too much for me to hold

this is too much for me to hold

create. make something. anything.
fold your clothing beautifully. arrange it by color.
look back on yourself as a child, bereft in ways you didn't ask for and couldn't understand.
embrace that child. tell her you see her. tell her she was loved. always.
treat yourself to a good meal.
let someone talk about themselves for way too long,
even if you really wanted to talk about yourself (especially then).
let her talk until the moment you realize she is shouldering things
whose depth and complexity you underestimated.
look her in the eye. tell her, there's something better for you.
i don't know when it'll come. but i'm here until it does.
eat a chocolate frosted doughnut.
smile at the warmth of your latté.
paint your nails rose gold. wrap a scarf around your neck.
stay up way too late. sing until you're hoarse.
don't forget the past. forgive it. forgive life for disappointing you.
buy a new lipstick.
be willing to live awhile with uncomfortable, open, endless space ---
believe and see that something sparkles, far-off, in the void.

and are we there yet?

photo: taken at dusk today

lyrics: ingrid michaelson