And all of a sudden, I am visited by a crushing sadness.
It feels like showing up on my own funeral, head down, arms hanging heavily, watching the darkness surround me, sobbing in silence while it’s raining cold drops of pain.
For all of my life I’ve had these glimpses of melancholy, sometimes changing into overwhelming waves of uselessness and large doses of shrieking insanity.
In less than a second the curtains close, the light dims, and the unseen Monsters of Madness start scurrying around me, just out of sight.
Life, accelerating into agony.
I’ve been thinking about this trait, this capacity, many times, and it seems like we are able to create tiny but powerful experience bombs inside ourselves that explode when we least expect it, so they can penetrate our existence with a strangling force.
The bombs are highly concentrated, full of color, smells, tastes and vivid images, and when they ignite the effect is devastating and immediate.
There are very bad bombs, and there are really good bombs (the ones that create a rich and lively image of my future in a beach house where I’ll coach world leaders one on one under the blue sky, on a hopping ball).
This particular one is bad news, and I have to sit down for a few seconds.
But here’s the thing: I’ve seen the headlines many times before, and I know they’ll soon be replaced by new ones.
The bomb went off, it was kind of messy, yet pretty soon life went on again.
Like nothing has happened.
And nothing actually did, not really.
It’s amazing how you can be suddenly and massively blindsided by anxious thoughts and feelings, while being okay with it.
I didn’t know this was even possible!
Wisdom: the big detonator.
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(Photo by @spensersembrat, for Unsplash)
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