I love this (also yet another sky photograph). As my Landslide post described, happiness and sadness arise for me out of thin air sometimes, swamping me like an unanticipated wave. At other times they come up with a steadier drumbeat, reaching a more conventional crescendo.
This is, I believe, one of the major tasks of my life: to learn to ride these various swells and ebbs without fear, to honor each moment as it comes, to trust that sadness will eventually make way to happiness again as firmly as I already know that joy will fade away to melancholy.
And after all, the happiness means nothing without the sadness. That is another of the few things I know for sure. What I’m not sure of is whether this is about capacity or contrast. I lean towards capacity, but I’m not entirely certain. I don’t love The Prophet, but one of Gibran’s lines encapsulates this more perfectly than I ever could: The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
(a repost from last summer, as we cruise into summer here. So much is the same and so much is different. I am still oscillating between happiness and sadness, still zigzagging along the border of light and dark, still moving in those undulating rhythms of life that move me somehow forward and back at the same time.)