The Sweet Sadness of Beauty Never to Come Again

First published on March 22, 2019

I've noticed something about myself. There is a particular kind of sadness that it enriches my life to feel. Not deep sadness, and not panic or horror or tragedy. But the chance to feel sadness, on my behalf or someone else's, has a sweetness to it, sometimes.

The tingle in the nose, the tears in the eyes. There is a freedom and an uplifting nature to it.

I once heard someone say that tears - and other emotions - are just another one of our body's ways of processing waste. We don't judge ourselves or others for going to the toilet, or having a snotty nose, so why should we judge ourselves or others for tears or anger or other emotions. These things are a fact of life.

I think that's right. Tears are a release of energy, and it is empowering and it is freeing to feel them. But more than that, it is a sign you are alive.

I love sadness, sweet sadness. I have for a long time. I once owned a t-shirt made by the band Lowgold, which said 'Keep Music Miserable' across my chest. My favourite TV show, probably, is Six Feet Under, the beautiful exposition of love, loss and emotion through experiences around death.

My favourite scenes in my favourite novels are more often than not the ones that bring tears to my eyes. But they are sweet tears. They are tears of heroism. They are tears of tragedy: of love, and love lost.

And the most memorable moments of my works as a coach are more often than not ones where there is a tingle in my nose and tears in my eyes as I sit, in connection with someone else, someone in a moment of heroism, or courage, or tragedy, or love. And they feel the tingle, and the tears, too.

These are beautiful, enlivening, uplifting times. They are times, I've reflected before, where I feel my soul growing. And in some ways they have a sadness to them, a sweet sadness.

I don't like to cry in public. Even with my nearest and dearest it feels almost too private an experience: to feel my soul growing, and to touch that deeper truth about life.

Of course there is another reason for those tears, those moments of sweet sadness, to be in private. That is because another part of me, another value I hold dear, is one of solidity, of reliability, for those who need me. I'm here, I've got you, I'll be the one you can rely on.

But it is a vital and a joyous part of my life, sitting alone one morning, tears in my eyes at the noise of the children in the playground across the street. Or sitting one afternoon, turning the pages of the novel as the troubled soul finds redemption. Or watching, one evening, as the two cowboys decide to go down fighting; together, at the end, as friends. Or standing, one summer's day, witnessing love and openness shared in ceremony, and in words, among loved ones.

These moments; they are life. This sweet sadness, at the beauty of humankind, which we see in a moment and then we lose, knowing that moment will never come again.