How does it feel to own what you are.
To unstitch your heart without causing a flood.
To fall but never ceasing to believe.
In light taking over darkness.
This has been an uncharacteristic week of fulfilling social obligations. I met up successively with people I haven’t seen in years, and the changes in us between then and now were made more stark by the passage of time. We updated each other on our respective situations in life, sharing the different obstacles and problems we’ve been facing, and the common theme prevalent in all these various conversations became the mutual encouragement which we proffered each other.
I don’t know how many of us were sincere about it. Certainly, on a superficial level, it just seemed like the right thing to do. I wasn’t too familiar with their lives at this point and was in no position to offer constructive criticism. The only acceptable thing to do was to point out the obvious positives and urge them to remember their strengths, then accept their similar endeavours with a modicum of grace.
However their true intentions, no genuine sense of validation bubbled up in me. It was just polite conversation, well-meaning for all intents and purposes I’m sure, but without the requisite wisdom of propriety. And now that I think about it, this phenomenon seems so strange. Especially in how common it is, by the look of things.
A flippant insult from any stranger could rankle, but somehow plaudits offered by an acquaintance need to pass a stricter test of reasonableness before one’s emotions are allowed to accept them. Why is it so much easier to dwell on malice and barbed words than people’s heartening comments about what we’ve done? Have we not earned them? We did do those things that we said we did after all, didn’t we? It is an odd characteristic trait that I, and many of those I know, possess.
Maybe this is a counter-intuitive coping mechanism. We all have our obstacles, and we want to overcome them. We don’t want the struggle to be diminished by the casual words of some unfamiliar fellow. If the mountain we have to climb isn’t as high as we thought, and anybody, even those who don’t know us intimately, can easily tell that we have the ability to climb it, then what is the point of the expedition? We want predicaments that define us, crises that promise great value in success if they are overcome, rather than a mere facet of life that will easily pass if we adopt that little more positivity. And only those who understand us well enough to comprehend this gravitas of our quandaries can truly encourage us.
The fact is there is no constant happiness in life. That is only something to assume at the end of a feel-good movie. The confusions, frustrations and furies exist for a reason; they are needed to make us better. And if we accept that, then the only kink to work out is just in picking the right battles. We don’t need the whole world behind us for that. When we own what we are, we earn the right to shine. And for that, we need the darkness.
Softly Questioning 