'A day once dawned; and it was beautiful. A day once dawned from the ground...'
I just finished watching '127 Hours' a little bit ago. I was speechless at the end. And bawling. Not gonna lie. I don't think it was so much the whole 'cutting off his arm to survive' bit that touched me so much. I knew all of that was gonna happen.
It was the joy. The joy of life.
'Then the night, she fell. And the air was beautiful. The night, she fell all around...'
I was in a place once where I couldn't find much joy in life. Hopeless. It seems so distant and foreign a feeling to me now. The me now still can't fully understand what the me then was dealing with. But since that dark time I search out movies like '127 Hours'. I look for and read novels that are not so much about a grand adventure the main character experiences with others as the journey that happens within. These books and movies may not be exactly happy; and that's ok. I in fact find a lot of comfort in somber moments. They remind me sharply of this very real, finite world I live in. They remind me that every moment I live is full of miracles, and that every breath I take speaks God's name. I love somber beauty because it helps me to appreciate all of the many other types of beauty in my life so much more. If you can find beauty in the darker moments of your life, then the moments of joy should blind you.
'So look see the days; the endless colored ways. Go play the game that you learned from the morning.'
Somber songs do the same thing. There is a raw beauty in these chords I listen to late at night with the lights off. Loss is one of the strongest emotions we are capable of, and I feel that emotions are to be explored. One who doesn't know their emotions and how to handle them doesn't know himself. Whence solemnity was my downfall, it is now the source of all the passion I feel and love and peace come from that passion.
'...and now we rise. And we are everywhere. And now we rise from the ground.'
There is this popular notion that one should turn their eyes from sorrow and embrace joy, but I don't think joy can be accomplished without experiencing sorrow. God the Son himself came down to earth to experience sorrow so that our joy would be accomplished. I find great comfort in that. If I had never experienced sorrow, I would not be able to perceive great depths of joy. Isn't that so ironic? You are forced outside of your former self, as if an opaque shadow, to be confronted with these experiences that jar you back into yourself. But when you return, you are wiser. You see with new eyes. It is not that the world has changed. You have. Your senses have been elevated by your time outside. You return to yourself and you are yourself but not.
'See, she flies; and she is everywhere. See, she flies all around.'
The only conclusion I can draw from this then is that the trials and suffering that jar us out of ourselves should be anticipated and welcomed. After all, we are growing to appreciate life more and more this way, right? Sorrow and pain are not bad; they can be beautiful catalysts for joy and passion in our lives. Every little stumble is an opportunity for us to invite God to come in and open our eyes a little bit more. If we allow ourselves, we will fall into grace and back into our true selves.
'So look see the sights; the endless summer nights. And go play the game that you learned from the morning.' - Nick Drake, From the Morning
