I’ve gone through some pretty difficult times lately. For those of you who don’t know (I haven’t gone too out of my way to tell everyone yet), I broke off an engagement a while back. Though the decision was a hard one, it has felt in many ways like the right one, even though I can’t always fully explain it yet.
But going through such a strange, confusing time of loss and grief has led me to some interesting places. Though there have been times of deep sadness and temptation to despair or think the worst of my life, ultimately I think I’m coming to a place of deep clarity and orientation. A place of peace and strong grounding.
Such a peace can be hard to describe, and many might not ever experience such emotions like I do (I know we’re all different and experience things in different ways). I liken it to the kind of feelings you get when you listen to music that strikes you so deep that you just need to be still, let go of everything, and just experience the moving sound. The only thing you want to feel is this surreal zen. It’s not edgy or exciting, really. Just quiet. A deep sense of ultimate, grounding peace. It’s also not constant, but something that comes perhaps consciously, with intentional reminders of truth and grace to the self.
Some soundtrack music can take me there sometimes, or music like that of Enya. In a way there is a sadness with such a feeling, though it’s not true sadness. It’s a certain weight and gravity that you feel, a seriousness that is strengthening instead of overwhelming or crushing. It comes with a deep sense that everything is fine – or at least will be, in the end. It is nostalgia with a hopeful look to the future.
So what of it? Well, I think this weighty peace, this grounding gravity, is something we should all shoot for and aim for. It is a positive emotion (or combination of emotions) that shows you have your head on straight. You’re glad of your difficult past and excited to grow beyond it. Your arms are open to the rest of life. And in spite of all the past difficulties, failures or evils experienced, you are thankful. This is truly an amazing thing! Don’t we all long to be there?
Such a place to be in has shown me that difficulty creates depth inside of a person. Depth then allows for this kind of serious and hopeful sense of peace. It is a part of maturity, I think, to be able to heal from difficulty and come to accept and understand the serious and heavier parts of life. Often we avoid this process by partying, drinking, drugs, sex, or other distractions. I think we hurt ourselves if we avoid it, and instead of creating depth the process creates bitterness and hardness of heart, an unwillingness to accept life as it is, good and bad alike.
Of course, this process is hard. You actually have to go through the difficulty and actively pursue healing to get there. You have to change, accept parts of you or others that you don’t want to accept, and that hurts. Furthermore, it takes time – sometimes a lot of it.
But the maturation, sweet like wine as it ages, is well worth it.
Perhaps also necessary for this weighty peace is a sense of the supernatural or divine. After all, if we have no ultimate reality beyond this mere physical world, how can we have such a transcending hope? I don’t think we can. And experientially, existentially, this peace for me involves a deep trust in God and his work in my life through difficulty. He has created this depth and filled it with his divine peace, causing it to overflow with divine hope. For that, I am ever grateful, and excited for the adventure that goes ever on.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
From J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings
