Sprightly new life
Lilacs are all in bloom and its scent fills my house. It has been a glorious, but tedious day. It might be loneliness, it might be helplessness, it might be pain. Holy Week has intensified my suffering and my bunch of frustrations hurt more. I remember when I was lost in the shine of eternity, when everything gave me joy, when I drank spring like a bud. That shine never got dark and fueled the blaze of my hopes and dreams. I was tantalized by the beauty of silence and stillness. Each little thing, a cobwebbed window, a curtain of rain or a melancholy light, had a meaning, a reason, and the charm of life beguiled me. Now I am scared of dreaming, of imaging the better life I have awaited for years in vain. Perseverance has not brought me anything but headaches and sleepless nights. It is not a matter of doing my best. It is not. God gives you failure or success, wealth or poverty, health or disease. And, for some reason, He wants me to suffer from the most terrifying experiences. I am afraid of more calamities, of deeper hardships, of the most dreadful misery a human being can endure. In spite of my wintry eyes, I have set my hopes on Easter Vigil. This darkness could be dispelled by the brightness of truth and love. This exhaustion could be replaced with a sprightly new life. Could be, could be.
There was a time when I thought I had to come up with a host of brilliant ideas each day, and now I sometimes feel like a barren strecht of land on which nothing grows, but which is nevertheless spanned by a high, wide sky.