"Gonna drive back down where you once belonged
In the back of a dream car twenty foot long
Don’t cry my sweet, don’t break my heart
Doing all right, but you gotta get smart
Wish upon, wish upon, day upon day, I believe oh lord
I believe all the way"--old David Bowie song
That tinge of sadness, a weariness, perhaps a bit of mild depression. I experience it as the lack of a "good novel going", and as an increase in needless procrastination.
I have to keep my "chin up", as the expression goes, and avoid dwelling on the negative. Instead, like that curious chant in "Dune", I have to let the negative pass over me and turn my inward eye to see it pass. That epigrammatic poet Edwin Markham said "Defeat may serve as well as victory to shake the soul and let the glory out".
Today I got a great deal done, but I also experience a bit of
undifferentiated sadness. Yet I've learned, with time, that
I cannot let this define me. I define myself differently altogether.
We stopped once at a fruit stand on the big island in Hawaii.
They served there an ambrosia called fresh white pineapple--twice as sweet at that in the market back home, hacked into manageable slices with a large machete-like knife. I remember the sense of sweetness emanating from that pineapple as if it drenched my soul. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I have a life that has real tang and flavor, as well as a few needlessly dusty drives.
I know how much comfort I find in a long talk, a good book, a long hike, the feel of a sunfish striking on a line, or the sight of a sunset bursting red across the fields. I will absorb this depression, and accept it. But it will not own me.
I will be done with it soon.
