Thursday, December 3, 2009

Being-melancholic-while-agapic-for-the-Other



*This post is not about anyone in particular*

I am in quite a melancholic mood today.

Why is it that friends never seem to be there when you need them? It often feels as though I get let down by friends more often than not.

Maybe I have too high expectations of them? I suppose that's why I often feel let down or not supported by them. I try always to be there for my friends whenever they need me. If they need to talk at three am I will be available, or to be picked up in the middle of the night. If they need me to be there with them I will often be there within 30 minutes of them asking.

But it often feels like this isn't reciprocated. A lot of people assume that because I am a very strong willed and stubborn person that I don't need as much support from my friends as other people might. Well this simply isn't true.

Love of solitude isn't the same as being lonely. Although I do often like to do things on my own, it doesn't mean that I don't sometimes feel lonely. I really would like my friends to call me every now and then and ask me to catch up. But often I am the one who has to call first. It's like everybody has such busy and important lives that they don't have time for me, but when they need me - I will drop everything for them in an instant.

This isn't meant to be a "whinge-session" and I am not depressed. I am just ruminating over my feelings in regards to my friends and the seeming lack of relationship that I have with them.

Sometimes it just feels as though I have lots of acquaintances but not really anyone I can open my heart to. Who do I have that I can honestly connect to and be myself with, without having to be fake or pretending to be someone I'm not?

Without trying to be a martyr, I suppose I should view my situation as my Cross to bear from the Lord and see it as a participation in the loneliness of Jesus. In the sense that He had friends who He loved dearly, and yet they let Him down in His time of need. However He was always giving Himself completely to them no matter that they would not or even could not reciprocate. He gave the Gift of Self, His entire existence was AGAPIC.

In a certain sense this is what I try to do in my friendships with others. I try my best as is humanly possible to give myself completely to the person that I am with at the time. When I am with them I give Myself completely. This is part of my notion of living and being authentic.

As a result of this I often find myself bitterly disappointed with the reciprocation of the friendship - hence my melancholy. Most people do not seem to have the same ideals as I have or even the same notion and understanding of friendship. In my relationships, I try to see myself as "Being-for-an-Other" and holding nothing back for myself. Yet when I talk with some (not all) friends they barely even seem to be able to concentrate when I talk to them. This is one of them most frustrating and at the same time disheartening things that I experience.

When this happens I often experience a sure of rage welling up within me and then later on a deep sadness fills me. I feel so angry and bitter that my complete Gift of Self is treated so indifferently. It is as if I hand over to them my heart, and then they just nonchalantly glance and it and discard it without a second thought. This is why the deep sadness comes over me afterwards.

Slowly over time I am beginning to control my outrage after such incidents, but still struggle with the sadness and melancholy that sets in.

What keeps me strong though is knowing that so long as I continue to give of myself no matter what, that I am being true to myself. I am being AUTHENTIC. So long as I can die knowing that I have a clean conscience about being true with myself and others, I believe I will have lived a meaningful existence.

To be authentic I need to be AGAPIC - no matter how hard or disheartening it can be. For me this is part of my journey of becoming Christ like, no matter how often I fall short of that ideal. I know that I need to be just like Jesus and give no matter what the cost, even if I know beforehand that it will not or even cannot be reciprocated.

In spite of being a very imperfect Christian and notoriously irascible, I always strive to live sacrificially for my friends - to have an AGAPIC existence.

There is a beautiful song written by Don McLean that I find hauntingly Christological, and at the same time it touches me deeply. Hopefully if you can take the time to read the words and ruminate over them, you will begin to understand how I think and feel as a person.

Starry, starry night.
Paint your palette blue and grey,
Look out on a summer's day,
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul.
Shadows on the hills,
Sketch the trees and the daffodils,
Catch the breeze and the winter chills,
In colors on the snowy linen land.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

Starry, starry night.
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze,
Swirling clouds in violet haze,
Reflect in Vincent's eyes of china blue.
Colors changing hue, morning field of amber grain,
Weathered faces lined in pain,
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
.

Now I understand what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they did not know how.
Perhaps they'll listen now.

For they could not love you,
But still your love was true.
And when no hope was left in sight
On that starry, starry night,
You took your life, as lovers often do.
But I could have told you, Vincent,
This world was never meant for one
As beautiful as you.

Starry, starry night.
Portraits hung in empty halls,
Frameless head on nameless walls,
With eyes that watch the world and can't forget.
Like the strangers that you've met,
The ragged men in the ragged clothes,
The silver thorn of bloody rose,
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow.

Now I think I know what you tried to say to me,
How you suffered for your sanity,
How you tried to set them free.
They would not listen, they're not listening still.
Perhaps they never will...

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