2008 Woodie Awards
Painfully at peace
Jason Crowe
Issue date: 11/17/08 Section: Forum
As I rode my bike back from a long and exhausting day of school, the awfully frigid air and the penetrating rain soaked through my socks and almost instantly made my toes bitterly cold. The insurmountable discomfort my feet had inherited from this dismal, dreary and grim weather made me want to stop and warm them up someway, somehow. I pedaled faster. Every small, seemingly innocuous rain droplet hit my face with an agonizing sting. As I continued to pedal and the saturated landscape flew by me, I thought, "I love this." The thought passed from my mind, not making me warmer or more comfortable, but then I was calm. There is something about uneasy and miserable weather that gives me an unexplainable and interesting sense of peace. It was as if the painfully cold rain was washing away my apprehensions, worries and anxieties. Discomfort was comforting someway, somehow. The ideas or the hopes of being indoors with a cozy blanket and a cup of hot chocolate with two marshmallows left my head, and I felt content.
There is something about sorrow that feels good - the true meaning of solace or comfort in misery. What is it about biking in the worst conditions imaginable that makes me feel good? What is it about the sitting in your room sad that doesn't make you want to leave? What is it about having people say you're worthless that makes you feel human? The most profound thoughts I ever have, the most compassionate, romantic and meaningful thoughts, are when I am most miserable. It is a very dangerous idea. If I convince myself that I can be at peace if I am miserable, I'll start looking for it, searching for it, creating it. The balance between solace and masochism. Yet again, it is peace, tranquility and stillness in chaotic life. I tell myself that is all I want, to be content, composed, serene. Is it healthy, or is it destructive?
It happens even in the worst of times, when everything seems to be against you and all you want to do is stop the feelings of anxiety, pain and loneliness that dwells within making everything seem empty and worthless. You try to do something about it - crying out to friends, family and even God, though sometimes it feels as if no one is listening. What then? All of the sorrow, is there any good in it? Is it healthy to be in misery? There is that old saying, "what doesn't kill you makes stronger." "The trees who survive the worst of storms grow the deepest roots." Should I be in pain as long as possible to be the strongest person there is?
Yet something is missing. When I stick it out till the end, overcome and avoid fearing being happy, my cup overflows with joy. From dark to light. I rise within myself and defeat the demons that hold me in misery. I overcome the pains, anxieties and the worries rather and then forget about them - overcoming sorrow someway, somehow. What does that mean, overcoming sorrow? It certainly doesn't mean life is going to be easy, no "happily ever after." What it means to me is two marshmallows in my hot chocolate. In this cup is warmth, comfort and solitude. Instead of having the light come in, the light is inside - a sugary white ball of joy. In every sip there is a taste of hope. So is there more peace in the miserable bike ride or in the two marshmallows in my cup? I don't know. All I know is my feet are cold.
- Jason Crowe is an IC Columnist and a junior majoring in mechanical engineering.
There is something about sorrow that feels good - the true meaning of solace or comfort in misery. What is it about biking in the worst conditions imaginable that makes me feel good? What is it about the sitting in your room sad that doesn't make you want to leave? What is it about having people say you're worthless that makes you feel human? The most profound thoughts I ever have, the most compassionate, romantic and meaningful thoughts, are when I am most miserable. It is a very dangerous idea. If I convince myself that I can be at peace if I am miserable, I'll start looking for it, searching for it, creating it. The balance between solace and masochism. Yet again, it is peace, tranquility and stillness in chaotic life. I tell myself that is all I want, to be content, composed, serene. Is it healthy, or is it destructive?
It happens even in the worst of times, when everything seems to be against you and all you want to do is stop the feelings of anxiety, pain and loneliness that dwells within making everything seem empty and worthless. You try to do something about it - crying out to friends, family and even God, though sometimes it feels as if no one is listening. What then? All of the sorrow, is there any good in it? Is it healthy to be in misery? There is that old saying, "what doesn't kill you makes stronger." "The trees who survive the worst of storms grow the deepest roots." Should I be in pain as long as possible to be the strongest person there is?
Yet something is missing. When I stick it out till the end, overcome and avoid fearing being happy, my cup overflows with joy. From dark to light. I rise within myself and defeat the demons that hold me in misery. I overcome the pains, anxieties and the worries rather and then forget about them - overcoming sorrow someway, somehow. What does that mean, overcoming sorrow? It certainly doesn't mean life is going to be easy, no "happily ever after." What it means to me is two marshmallows in my hot chocolate. In this cup is warmth, comfort and solitude. Instead of having the light come in, the light is inside - a sugary white ball of joy. In every sip there is a taste of hope. So is there more peace in the miserable bike ride or in the two marshmallows in my cup? I don't know. All I know is my feet are cold.
- Jason Crowe is an IC Columnist and a junior majoring in mechanical engineering.
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