To you, my dear friend
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Woiler, March 27, 2023
Dearest,
I have been standing at a crossroads for some time. Around me, passers-by are running away, confident of their destination. Too bad for them. I have a choice between two paths and it took me until nightfall to recognize which one makes sense to me, from where I came from, the direction to take, towards a destination that is never ultimate.
Maybe that's what depression is: a side road that few people take, because it's just not comfortable. Depression has never really left me. I feel like I didn't have a choice. Sometimes it's just unbearable. And I'll probably walk away from it once I accept it. That's one of the ways I can do it. Accepting my state as a blessing: heaviness is grace, sadness is sweet as joy, music enlightens me, the only way to travel in time is to slow down, in the silence God speaks. A dark and unglamorous path.
In this morning's Le Monde, I read an article by a philosopher who describes with a certain poetry the spiritual meaning of the five pillars of Islam. I felt a deep comfort, a feeling of joy in sharing the same understanding of reality and of our meaning of existence with a culture that is very different from mine. The readers' comments were either hateful or contemptuous, for the most part. Around me, passers-by were running away, certain of their destination.
My dear friend, tell me how you are, where you are, where you want to live.
With love,