Having just read A little life, by Hanya Yanagihara, I am still devastated and speechless. One of the very few books I read in the last ten years that did not let me to put it down, though my life is pretty busy, now more than ever… Tabus were broken. My heart is heavy, of many unanswered questions which have been aroused to life or to light… there still is a need of time to pass to let things calm down. It is not a gay-book, though it speaks about that as well. But it speaks of so much more…
What is of value in my life?
Yesterday I would be reading something about the way we lose our precious time with our gloomy moods (and unsatisfied needs and desires) and how we do not spend enough time meditating on the peace we can only find (and already have!) in Christ alone. So true…
These days I feel as if I am walking the line, not as high and dangerous as the guy in the picture, but walking the line nevertheless.
Shattered dreams lie all over my path way back, behind me…
Long-forgotten laughters, brittle memories, sad eyes, lonely nights and days… a soul always searching, and waiting, and looking for things thought to be unachievable, impossible… only to find out they are anything else but that.
Is this life of mine the life I desire? The life I love? If it is not… is it wrong? What did Jesus mean by saying Anyone who loves his life will lose it…? (John 12.25) So am I to NOT love my life – to hate my life in this world – in order to keep it and to have eternal life? God, through John, says it just like that, in this Gospel.
There are people and things I love, in this little life of mine, and then there are things I still wait for, things I might never have. Not like material objects, but like the sweet intimacy of two befriended souls. What is legitimate and what not?
Walking the line… Someone told me once – If you do not know what is right or wrong, do not even consider walking that path (line…), it is not a place you should be. Look for the good you can do, for the good in others, for the little miracles around you, for the little gestures of kindness and gentleness every human soul thirsts for… just do not venture in dry places of wickedness to search the good in the midst of evil. It takes a special calling… Christ needs me to show Him and His gentle, kind way, to those around be, beliving or not… we all need intimacy, deep and touching, treasuring and assuring, we all need to be reminded how precious we are. Maybe not each day. But there are days we couldn’t survive without that, we couldn’t find the strength to keep going…
So I keep living my own little life, thankful for not having experienced all of Jude St. Francis’s dramas, but neither his deep, cosy, heart-to-heart closeness in friendship, Wouldn’t those first 16 years have been his life as well, with all of their horidness, there wouldn’t have been any of the good things he received all the years after that. These are his own thoughts… of treasuring the good. Though not being able to go on without something.
What is the little something that keeps me alive and going? Without which I’d be lost and unable to live? Isn’t this the very test of Christ being enough? Him and His strength?
Can it be enough?
If you have wings to fly, can you be satisfied with lying down in a cage and merely breathing?
If you have a heart full of poems, without any heart to ask for them, can you be satisfied of living a silent and dark little life?
If you have a song in your soul and no little breeze to make your strings tremble and sing, can you be fully yourself? At peace?