This longing is joy, and it is sorrow. It arises when we see that mother with that child. Or that random passerby with tears in her eyes. What is it? That desire to reach out and comfort, or partake in that gladness. That human emotion. The need for love, and the need for fulfillment, and the frustration which comes when we aren’t there yet, or aren’t feeling it.
A sort of detachment seems so prevalent at this juncture. So many live lives without that attachment, that fundamental, human ability to weep or laugh. I even sit often alone, sheltering myself from either extreme — at times I may dip my toes into the stream, but never immerse myself fully. That would be careless. Surely, jumping in would result in being washed away and drowned. Just a small amount of common sense keeps me shore-bound, and so many others, too, I see along these banks.
Life lived carefully may result in longer life, although perhaps not fuller. This is not to suggest living life in the extreme, but life is not something to be tiptoed over as though it were glass about to shatter. We humans, we use phrases like “heartbreak” or “shattered”, which are both false representations. Life is not glass; it cannot and will not shatter. A bone may shatter, but it can also mend. A heart may stop beating, but it will not break — as far as I know.
Just… dip the gourd in and drink a little. It can’t hurt to experience the stream some. The water is fresh and cool in places, and warm and sultry in others. Besides, the weather is warm. All of us on the bank should grab our tubes, and sunscreen, and float down for a little while.