In the noise and whip
…It is lonesome, yes. For we are the last of the loud.
Conduct your blooming in the noise and whip of the whirlwind.
This post is for anyone who has ever felt alone in a crowd.
It’s for anyone who speaks in a voice trembling with grief or rage, while hearing silent reproaches screaming inside the mind: What is it with you, anyway? Why can’t you just get over it– chill out– get used to it? Why don’t you just sit down and shut up?
It’s for anyone who has ever longed for a quiet hour, a normal day, a boring week, an uneventful month, a healthy, prosperous, consistently happy year.
It’s for anyone who endlessly waters other people’s gardens while wondering when her own life will have a chance to take root and bloom. The answer is: it already has.
Brooks hit the nail on the head. For some of us, it’s never going to be “So now, live happily ever after!” It won’t ever be “At last! A real life!”
For some of us– I suspect, possibly even for most of us– our earthly task is summed up in her two powerful words: “Nevertheless, live.”
A lot of people won’t get this post at all. That’s OK.
For those who do get it, remember: we have poetic and historic and literary and spiritual proof that it’s possible to bloom even in the most ferocious storm. You’re actually part of quite a magnificent garden. When you feel lonesome, remember that.