The age of sadness—just an age for some, all the ages for others—hides the truth in its midnight hour: life, this life, is for the living.
Yes, only you, the living, can partake in this habit we call life.
And as the living we must do what only the living can: live.
In this age, we must make ample space for the sadness in our lives. As much as needed and no more. Because sadness is not our home. It’s a hostel, conveniently located, with open beds. Necessary in times of need, it is no home.
We must live and journey back to our abodes which are always lit by dawn’s grace. On this journey, in this age, where no light can be seen, it is at that time, that we must look within—with gratitude. With gratitude, if for nothing else, for simply being able to look within, and with time, the gratitude for seeing our own light, however dim.
And when we see that light, we are called to share it. As a mother might share her light with a child, a game of peek-a-boo for want of toys.
Darkness hides this secret: we are the light, for ourselves, for each other. Light shines internal.
And in light’s embrace, even for just one, the age of sadness ends.
Replaced by the era that calls us all: The age of living.
Mikal-El 