joy and shittiness

Sorrow and depression and grief used to be intolerable to me. This past week I have been feeling all of that, though for no articulated reason. I posited to the moon that perhaps ti was just the capacity to feel grief and sorrow that i was aware of, but wasn't actually feeling it, just empathizing with the feeling.

There's an existential feeling of purposelessness that is permeating my life right now. Day in and day out. But unlike before where that feeling would really depress me and knock me out, I'm just floating through it. I think i've been educated enough through life to know that its temporary, and because of my familiarity with intense purpose-fulness and joy i know it'll just cycle back to that eventually.

I was just watching Lost, a show where the characters are in constant adrenaline and excitement and fighting for survival. I used to think if i ever found myself in that situation i would kill myself because i'd be unable to stand that fear. Now i realize that the base survival is excitement and purposeful, and should the world fall into disarray, i would not end my life and i would fight to survive. Not because i'm afraid of death, because i very much am looking forward to that in an inspired sort of way... but because i'm alive now, and will eventually die, and if such excitement should come my way (i'm thinking about this fall, when Nibiru, the red kachina, or the super massive dwarf star mentioned in the Quickening comes back and does something strange to our reality) then i shall go with it. And this purposeless feeling that i'm enwrapped in right now, well i'm taking note of it, because i know how suddenly things can change.

Yin and Yang cannot exist independently of one another. These two feelings are in relation to one another. This feeling serves its purpose. And i really dislike being in the midst of it because its making me a shitty mother. and i hope it passes soon.





Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, "Joy is greater thar sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.