There's something about a melancholy mood.
Half of the time when in the midst of a forlorn emotional state, I want to escape.
Half the time I seek out tasks and environments to dunk me further into my melancholy.
Seeking out melancholy is just fine.
In this life, there are positive times, and there are negative times. A time of melancholy might be called a negative time, but it doesn't have to be.
I find that I do my best introspective thinking when I am submerged in my own "negative" emotions. Practically, I am doing just fine; I'm just a little down.
My appreciation of art, of music, of creativity are all heightened in these times.
God and I commune regularly as I rest in my melancholy. I find that reading the Bible, seeing the art and philosophy within the book of Psalms or Proverbs hits just the right note within me.
My response? Encouragement? Excitement?
Surely not.
I am content to explore the depths of my emotions and thoughts of the higher things.
Explore with me the beauty of art through the lens of melancholy; take hold of your own melancholy.
Earlier this year, I put together a small poetry collection of poems best enjoyed while in a lugubrious emotional state. It features a few notable poems by Longfellow, Whitman, and Hawthorne (as well as others that are not mentioned).
I wish to share them with you. Take the time to relax, clear your mind, and seek to interact with your deepest self. Imagine a place of pure peace and solitude. Imagine a soft rain fall and channel the feeling you have after having had a long, gratifying day of work.
In fact, place yourself in Longfellow's shoes as he is in his poem "The Day is Done."
The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night,As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight.
I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and the mist,And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me That my soul cannot resist:
A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain,And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay,That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day.
Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime,Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time.
For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggestLife's endless toil and endeavor; And to-night I long for rest.
Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart,As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start;
Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease,Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies.
Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care,And come like the benediction That follows after prayer.
Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice,And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice.
And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares, that infest the day,Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
Now, I hope you took the time to read that. Longfellow is good for the soul.
I will also share two more poems and leave you to think. I am going to do my own meditation and appreciation of these works.
This is thy hour O Soul, thy free flight into the wordless,Lastly,
Away from books, away from art, the day erased, the lesson done,
Thee fully forth emerging, silent, gazing, pondering the themes thou lovest best, Night, sleep, death and the stars. – "A Clear Midnight," Walt Whitman.
The ocean has its silent caves,
Deep, quiet and alone;
Though there be fury on the waves,
Beneath them there is none.
The awful spirits of the deep
Hold their communion there;
And there are those for whom we weep,
The young, the bright, the fair.
Calmly the wearied seamen rest
Beneath their own blue sea.
The ocean solitudes are blest,
For there is purity.
The earth has guilt, the earth has care,
Unquiet are its graves;
But peaceful sleep is ever there,
Beneath the dark blue waves.
"The Ocean," Nathaniel Hawthorne
No comments :
Post a Comment