Ever since I was a young boy I’ve felt a deep longing for the special moments of the past shared with loved ones.
I’ve mourned the passage of time and the reality that I can never go back.
I call this feeling my beautiful sadness.
The Brazilians and Portuguese use the word saudade. Others might say it’s a heartbreaking nostalgia. But for me it’s my beautiful sadness.
I feel so intensely connected to the happenings and relationships of my life, and it causes me great sorrow to let them go.
There’s another version of this feeling that points to the future. It’s a heartache knowing that the people and circumstances of my present life will someday be gone. Some folks will pass away or move on. My children will grow up and no longer need me as they do now. I’ll be older too, with a different daily life and perspective.
My beautiful sadness is with me always. It’s a constant, although the intensity is ever changing. Some days it’s a gentle reminder of the fragility of our lives. On other days I’m overwhelmed.
In this world there is so much beauty. It can be all consuming. But it’s also so sad that this beauty is fleeting. It comes and goes, and each passing moment will never return except through our memories.
I remember hiding in a closet in my childhood home when I was probably seven or eight. In my hands I held a framed 8x10 photo of my beloved grandmother Aba. She lived just down the street at the time and I saw her every day. We loved each other so much. And here I was sobbing uncontrollably because I knew that one day she would die and I would be in this world without her.
Around that same time I remember looking at a photo book with page after page of images of my brother and I playing together during the summer that had just passed. I wept and wept. I was inconsolable. I could not handle that the summer was gone and that these experiences with my brother were forever behind me.
Today I’m confronted by the exact same feelings, although the subject is different now. I get very emotional as I watch my children pass into new phases of their lives. I sometimes cry in bed on Sunday nights, wondering if I will ever again see the version of my son who I played with all weekend long. Will he still want to play trains next weekend? Will he still want me to cuddle him the same way?
For almost my entire life I’ve kept these feelings to myself. For reasons I can’t understand, I’ve never felt comfortable discussing them. I’ve felt shame. I also recall being told by others to focus on the positive, to not get bogged down by the sadness, to move on. Somehow along the way I learned to keep these feelings deep inside, and isolate myself when they came about.
But I won’t ignore or bury my beautiful sadness anymore. It’s an important part of who I am, and I now believe that the beauty and sadness are not just interrelated, but they are two sides of the exact same thing. One could not exist without the other.
On one side I get so excited and enthusiastic about the magic of our lives, as well as the wondrous possibilities always available to us in the present. The prospect of creating something beautiful, whether it’s a work of art or an honest conversation or a deeper relationship, is both comforting and absolutely thrilling.
The other side is the pain that I feel when time passes and these moments fade away.
I’m reminded of the words of Khalil Gibran: “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.”
I fully believe this to be true. The pain I have felt in my life has opened the door at times to transcendent happiness.
I also believe in the inverse: The deeper the joy you’ve felt, the more sorrow you can endure.
Does all of this mean that I’m too stuck in the past or the future and not here enough in the present? In a way I guess it does as I’m often focused on moments of a different time and place.
But whether these feelings are directed towards a past happening or a future event, in the present they arise so intensely within my body. My beautiful sadness on the inside is just as real as whatever is taking place in front of me.
Now I try to just watch the feelings arise. I observe them taking hold. I say to myself that my beautiful sadness has arrived and I honor it.
I now know that it’s okay to mourn the passage of time and the evolution of relationships. I can mourn them without needing or wanting to preserve them exactly as they were.
Just as we all mourn the death of a loved one, the passing of the truly beautiful moments of our lives also deserve mourning.
Opening up to these feelings, honoring them, helps me to understand and release them. Over time the grief will often transform into a deep appreciation.
I don’t want to be disconnected from these feelings. I don’t want to just flow through the present with no emotional connection to the past or future.
On some days I will cry tears of joy. On others I will celebrate the lives of those I have lost.
I want the beautiful sadness of life. As much as it pains me, I love it.