Pain and stuff have been outrageous this week, and I have found myself tempted to a kind of sorrow.
The bad kind, that's a doppelganger with resentment of my situation, and resentment of those who don't share it.
"You have to protect yourself from sadness. Sadness is very close to hate. Let me tell you this. This is the thing I learned. If you take in someone else's poison – thinking you can cure them by sharing it – you will instead store it within you." - Michael Ondaatje
The author of 'The English Patient'
once compared sadness to hate,
concluding that they are adjacent,
and self-poisoning's the fate
of those, who with heart full of care
see another's grief and sorrow
and are thereby moved to share
something they should never borrow.
I have learned that this is true,
and though I must treat with compassion
that sadness which may well place you
into a yoke that hell did fashion,
to pass beyond must be my duty,
for only thus is shared God's beauty.
Sylvia doesn't do sadness.
I've never considered a link between sadness and hate. Jesus was a man of sorrows who hated sin and its repercussions. Some sorrows must be felt to be alive.
ReplyDeleteHmm. I'll have to think about that.
ReplyDeleteRight now I second Debbie's comment.