The Things that Break

I miss the comfort of being sad. -Nirvana

It's Monday, it's raining, and I've got a case of the blahs.  Some Pastor types take Monday as a day off, but I would never do that, because most Mondays I'm not sure I would get out of bed if I didn't have responsibilities.  My general experience of Monday is slightly different than the majority of folks, due to my Sunday-centered work cycle.  I may not have the "back to the grind after two blissful days of freedom" malaise to work through, but I do have the feeling of being rather emptied out, and that "here we go again" hamster wheel feeling is every bit as present for me as it is for "normal" office worker types.
So on Mondays, my thoughts tend to run a bit more on the Eeyore end of the emotional spectrum (for anyone who is utterly lost by children's book references, Eeyore is the stuffed donkey from Winnie the Pooh stories, he's a bit gloomy).  But this rainy Monday feeling is not the end of the world, it's not a sign of depression or some sort of psychological imbalance, it's just a part of being human.
Maybe it's just the way I'm wired, but I think our cultural emphasis on happiness is a bit twisted.  No one really likes to feel gloomy all the time, in fact, if you feel that way all the time you may be clinically depressed, get help.  But I also don't think that it's a realistic or healthy expectation to always feel "good," whatever that means.
A lot of people's big question for God is why there is so much hurt in the world, why so many bad things are allowed to happen.  It's a good question, it's an old question, and it's a question that no one can really answer adequately.  So don't expect answers in what I'm about to say, these aren't explanations, only observations:
1. A gloomy background accentuates the beauty of the details.  I grew up in Chester County and a museum near us had an exhibit of Andrew Wyeth paintings.  It was one of my first experiences of art.  I remember thinking, about how gray all of his pictures were, almost every day was cloudy or rainy.  As we walked around the exhibit I started to notice how the details of the painting started to grip me and tell stories, and become more alive.  I still like Wyeth.
2. Broken things can be beautiful.  Anyone who has ever wandered around an old ruin or even had the eye to appreciate the sad beauty of abandoned places, will recognize this.  It's not just things either, people who are broken can often do the most beautiful things, and I'm not just talking about Van Gogh-esque tortured artist types.  Suffering has a way of cutting through the surface junk and exposing the beauty that is at the core of our humanity.  True honesty and grace are often found in hospital rooms, like flowers growing through concrete.
3. Tragedy brings out the best in us.  It seems strange to me that tragedy is what most often inspires human beings to great acts of compassion and altruism.  Prosperity makes us lazy and selfish, while trouble and disaster inspire us to be true helpers.  I think maybe because something out of the ordinary shakes our careful little cages and reminds us that life is precarious and precious, and maybe, just maybe, looking out for number one is not the most important thing.

I could probably keep going on this list, but even though it's still Monday, and now it's snowing, I'm feeling like the sky seems a little lighter.