Sad songs and Sundays.
This is among my favorite couples, and I’m enjoying my time with them today.
We are reminiscing, laughing, conducting amateur therapy sessions and hopefully cooking something delicious this afternoon.
We snatch the hours of fire from life and make our own light in the darkness. I’ve learned you cannot count on the sun to illuminate the path before you. It has no vested interest in the proceedings and is just as likely to lead you nowhere as it is to lead you somewhere. It’s the light from within that will probe the cracks and knock on walls to find the secret passages and the hidden worlds to which they connect.
But there are times when that internal flame must be tampered down and sculpted into a new form. For that, you need the damp presence of sadness. It can exaggerate your perspective, and it can give you clarity. Sometimes, those are complementary attributes.
Today, we are cultivating sadness so we have the right tools to rebuild the flame.
For this, I love sad songs and Sundays.
“Even though it hurts, even though it scars,
Love me when it storms, love me when I fall,
Every time it breaks, every time it’s torn,
Love me like I’m not made of stone.”
“And all this rain, love, don’t wash away shit …”
“Chasing Sundays round and round …”
“Today, you were far away, and I didn’t ask you why …”
“What are they doing in heaven today,
Where sin and sorrow are all done away?
Peace abounds like a river, they say.
What are they doing there now?”