It’s so easy to lose sight of the goodness in life, and in each of our lives. So easy to focus on what we perceive to be the struggles, the negative, the emptiness. We cannot be entirely empty though, not for long at least. There is always partial fullness, parts to be grateful for, parts that refill, reform.
A shadow was cast over my own mood since yesterday. (I blame the eclipse in some sort of cosmic way.) I can’t explain the melancholy, searched unsuccessfully for words, yet there it hung, its weight felt on my heart. I think some subconscious part of me was questioning. Everything. Insecurities creeping into crevices, my attention getting diverted to the parts that were missing. Patience thinning. Feeling indignant. Where is my share? When is it my turn?
What’s missing can easily overshadow even the sun. What’s missing, often caused by our own interference. What’s missing, misinterpreted by our own mortal ignorance. Perhaps what’s missing, our biggest blessing. None of us can ever, ever know the reasoning. Not in this lifetime, at least.
I like to think I know what I want, what’s best for me. But that, even a half-lifetime in, may not be what I need, what is intended for me. How can I trust my own interpretations when today I am still tossing out drafts of me? How can I know if this torturous waiting for a possibility isn’t exactly what I need, an essential part of a bigger scene, a fuller me?
A fuller me. I know I am not full yet. But how can I recognize it, appreciate it, without partial emptiness?
I wanted more. I didn’t get it. Not yesterday. Not today. Not yet. Maybe never. But the part I did get filled me with a glimpse of what fullness must feel like.
That part that the passing connection created as unexplainable in words as the previous melancholy. The melancholy, the emptiness. The connection, the fullness. Both parts vary in volume in response to circumstances and perceptions. Each of us a glass, half empty, half full.
And life is but the pitcher.
So cheers to you! Drink up and order another round. The tap is good for a hundred years or so.