Ebb And Flow
There’ll be much mistletoeing,
and hearts that are glowing,
when loved ones are near.
– George Wyle, Eddie Polla
Ah yes, the most wonderful time of the year is upon us.
There is little doubt that as we grow older, and as the visits of you-know-who become less frequent, we find that the most valuable present we can hope to receive on this special day, is that of presence; to be in the company of our loved ones, what more can we ask for.
The reality of my current situation however, is that I can’t have what it is that I so desperately yearn for.
Queue the world’s smallest violin…
I understood that it was going to be difficult from the start, but I never could have foreseen the magnitude of this excruciating emptiness.
Is it just the manic nature of this sublime sensation?
Perhaps in my naïveté, I failed to anticipate the desolate void that I was about to find myself occupying, or rather, that was occupying me.
All part of the magic, I suppose.
In a melancholic haze, I toyed with the idea of writing my thoughts down. I tore up pages, and cursed myself, over and over again.
As I wrote each word I felt strangely ill, but also frustrated for allowing myself to feel this way; hopelessly vulnerable and alone.
In an all too brief moment,
our hearts soar.
I keep telling myself to remain in the present, yet the present moment is the one place I don’t want to be, because you’re not here.
A frigid paradox.
Inside my head there exists a stunning art gallery, exhibiting vivid images of our time spent together in this life, and in lives past. In a bid to carry myself further from the present, it also showcases beautiful depictions of our future together, if I dare to feast my eyes.
The mantra of living in the present forbids me to visit this magnificent place, but sometimes I just can’t resist my natural tendency to float into other worlds. Besides, you are there; all the more reason to pay the admission fee and have a walk around.
Fragments of time spent together, although distant memories, are breathlessly vivid.
And when finally reunited for one brief moment, in that exotic place where space and time loses all significance, is it realistic to view this as a life worth pursuing?
Absolutely, I refuse to think otherwise.
These instances of blissful euphoria, which convince us that what we are experiencing could only be a dream, are what makes life worth living.
Yet, as much as I live for those moments of pure light, I’ve come to understand how important it is to be able to flow within the darkness.
A soothing awareness of what it means to be human.
How lucky I am.