An Invitation to Melancholy
Last week,
I received an invitation
from my Friend and Coach Jacqueline Gates.
She invited me to luxuriate in melancholy,
to make it as sumptuous as possible,
dressing the part,
drinking the part,
surrounding myself with the part.
And then,
to relish the space and time in that melancholy.
Drawn to swimming in sadness
but ever mindful of my past propensity
to overplay,
to overindulge,
to get caught up and forget
to step away….
At the moment,
I read her invitation,
I was on the brink…
savoring a glass of red, red wine
and dark chocolate,
the extent I allowed myself
to be present to
a sustained moment of melancholy.
For me,
skirting melancholy
was a safety mechanism,
a way to protect myself
and prevent myself
from slipping so deeply into the shadows
that I stayed there
and to stay in the good graces of those around me
who deeply feared the dark…
for themselves
and then for me.
But I’m in a totally different place in my life,
in my self-awareness
than I was in the days when for days,
I would lose track of time
for my sadness.
I have a deeper trust and appreciation for myself
than when
I first kept sorrows.
That day, though…
I had had a very pain-filled weekend
and I sought
ways to sit with and in it
instead of dancing around it.
I looked for and found
what is the most sumptuous ode to to profound sadness
I have ever watched.
Tous Les Matins du Monde,
the French film about Marin Marais’ Teacher,
Monsieur de Sainte-Colombe.
It’s really about the depths of music.
It’s really about music as a way to speak without, beneath,
and beyond words….
when words lack meaning.
The viola da gamba (It resembles a cello, but is not.)
lives to bring to the fore the darkest corners of the human soul,
even in its higher notes,
it echoes melancholy
and tristesse.
Tous Les Matins Du Monde
is a beautiful film
where the Shadows star in every scene—
Every room with its dark corners,
Every face with their mix of light and dark,
Every inch of forest,
Every deep, dark sustained note,
Every deep, dark lightly touched note…
is a reflection of the dark
that calls to me.
“My music is simply a way to speak without and beyond words and before there were words.”
spoke M. Ste-Colombe.
La viol…has always carried me to deep, dark recesses of my soul,
of my Being,
that are meant to be embraced,
not forbidden or hidden from
or ignored
or denied.
I can say this
today
when I trust myself so much more deeply than then,
when I have learned that others’ fear does not define my own.
At the same time,
I cannot help but wonder:
if my shadows had not been so rigorously
shamed,
shied away from,
claimed to be destructive…
I cannot help but wonder
if I might not have been better able to
reflect in their pools,
in their depths
and carry forward into the light
their lessons
of the profundity
and
fullness of being human,
of connection,
of feeling.
I am relieved and happy
that I received and took the invitation to la misere
to heart
and that I listened to myself
KNOW IMMEDIATELY
where to find a guide to a moment
before the light,
before the sigh,
before the breath;
a moment of sorrow and tears.
“Je cherche des regrets et de la douleur.”
I seek sadness and tears.
There is Beauty
before the light arrives
to remind us to remember
that we are both—
the light and the dark.
The velvety soft Beauty of the Dark
lies deep,
deep
beneath and behind
our soul.
Listen.
Listen.
Listen.
La viol..
touche
les cordes caches,
enterris meme
au fond
du fond
du coeur.
Listen.
let it touch your soul,
without reserve,
without hesitation,
without regret,
without equivocating.
The truth…
is in the Tears.
Blessings,
Paula.
©paulaksgardner, 2025
Listen to Marin Marais’ Sonnerie de Ste Genevieve du Mont de Paris here
