I speak because I am shattered

Disappointed Love by Francis Danby

End of October

October is edging closer to its finale. 50 degrees and cloudless in Manhattan. The office is filled with soft sounds and silence. Clicks, taps, small talk, and the rumble of the ice machine. Bitter coffee trickling into paper cups. I check my email, another bomb dropped in the middle east. I think about how quiet this moment is for me. The only disruption is the traffic outside, the horse drawn carriages clattering miserably towards the park. It feels as though I am living in between time. My chest moves up and down with my breath, my eyelashes tickle my cheeks as I blink. Being awake can feel like being asleep, but not without its consequences. Nothing is happening today except that my heart is breaking. I’m scared for what the world is becoming and of what it has always been. Our separation from each other. How desensitized we are to violence.

I am frustrated with this reality. What is the use of having a mind, of having a heart? Of having massive abilities to love each other and heal each other. We are in possession of a boundless intellectual nature, but it’s wasted on us if we can’t use it to take care of each other.

I defer to Louise Glück’s The Red Poppy to express a feeling I am quite inept at expressing for myself at this time. She passed away only recently, and will forever be one of my all-time favorite poets. I’ve been finding great comfort in her work and am happy I get to share it with you.

I’m not going to say much more. I want this work to reverberate in your mind as you close out this newsletter. Allow it to float over you like a song, like a whisper.