Roads to Joy

I’m holding a few emotions, thought processes, musings and bewilderments, in separate compartments of my mind, just at the moment. On the one hand, deep sorrow, but in another compartment joy bubbles up. Sometimes the compartments feel like they’re mirroring each other, only upside down and backwards. Frank laziness in one cupboard while persistent creativity bangs away in another. It’s an odd combination of feelings and it can be very disorientating. Sometimes the feelings collide, bounce off each other, agree to co-exist, and an unexpected sense of peace soothes my fevered brain. Living with both joy and sorrow at the same time seems to be a natural human condition.

Of course, often, one compartment or the other takes precedence, and then we may be overwhelmed with sadness, in a state where no joy can possibly intrude. Or we may be overcome with a sudden epiphany that nothing can shake. I’m left, as I think of these things, with the realisation that emotions are always just there, ready to be engaged, and then tucked away again in readiness for a different take.

Yesterday was an example of such compartmentalisation. So in the community compartment, we went to a Volunteers Fair, and thought about how best to contribute to the ongoing vibrance of our new village home. At the same time, a personal compartment, we held in our hearts deep sorrow at the departure of a dear friend. Life goes on, and we shall weep with sadness at the time of weeping. Or, as later in the afternoon, I exulted in a spontaneous work-around to fix the gladsome tower bells and achieve a cheerful bing-bong ring when a happy neighbour couple signed their wedding register. Bells are a funny example of that combination of compartments. One bell tolling is not a happy sound, but add in another note, from a smaller bell, and you’ve got a different sense altogether. For a minute or so, my co-bellringer and I managed to ring both bells together to send joy over the wedding garden party below.

I’m stuck, just at the moment, trying to develop a believable reason for my novel’s primary character to embark on an overland migration to a new life. I thought I’d achieved the motivation, in my first drafts, but I’m increasingly dubious about the verisimilitude. So my mind is busy busy trying to work the situation out, while my body says, relax, enjoy the garden and the shade while the sun brings out the best of the blossom. More compartments to conjure with.

It’s all too easy to recognise that a clash of compartments can cause consternation. But maybe, if we can let them co-exist, so that our subconscious can work the connections out, we can find solace in the midst of so many conflicting mental boxes. That concept will be my aspiration, anyway, over the next few weeks when I shall expect sorrow and joy to make their appearances and dominate in their turn.