mel·an·chol·y
1. a gloomy state of mind, esp. when habitual or prolonged; depression.
2. sober thoughtfulness; pensiveness.
3. Archaic. The condition of having too much black bile, considered in ancient and medieval medicine to cause gloominess and depression.
Melancholy...I have always considered this word to be beautiful, it looks beautiful, and it feels beautiful when it rolls off your tongue; like the first bite of an expensive chocolate savored with each syllable. It almost sounds like something you want to experience just so you can say it. This word has been echoing in my brain all week. When I wake up, before my eyes have even opened this word floats through my mind, whenever I'm quiet and alone with my thoughts it creeps in. I spoke it out loud today hoping that uttering it's expression would deter it's haunting. Naturally, the next step is to write it, explore it, define it. Give it time in the spotlight, so it will leave me alone. The irony that such a beautiful word could be used in conjunction with "black bile" boggles my mind.
When my husband asked me why I had been so melancholy this week, it shocked me. Was this word oozing from my every pore? Was it so powerful that it had manifested itself through me? This had to stop, but the more thought I put in to clearing this intruder from my mind the more it appeared, teasing me, this word dancing through my mind linked over and over again in different colors, different fonts, different sizes and direction, taunting me and gaining power. What did I do? I gave up. I let the word flow over me like a storm surge; crashing in and waters rising until it came in calm waves lapping at my tears and bringing with it every word of it's definition, accepting it and embracing it. Then, and only then was I able to visualize it falling and swirling down, down, down into a whirlpool well of emotion.
A new word is what I need, an empowering word, a word that doesn't make my husband's eyes appear worried or concerned. A word that will leave both my thoughts and my husband content. Am I ready for this new word? What if the beautiful sadness of melancholy seeps back in and rubs it's pink eraser across it's new rival? Then this new word must be strong, it must not acquiesce to the taunting chocolate truffle that is melancholy. How bittersweet it can be to give in to that word, like wanting to stay under the covers on a cold winter morning...it's almost easier.
I think maybe "happiness" should be the new word and yet that seems to be too drastic of a contrast. Maybe "contentment", but how could just status quo "contentment" hold up to melancholy? So, I decide on "journey". A journey is always moving, always changing, sometimes it's fast, sometimes it's slow; it can hold it's own in the ring with melancholy; ducking, and dancing, and weaving around to avoid a strike. Yes, "journey" it shall be. Let me awake each morning to this word, wondering where it will take me each day; it's letters are bright, bubbly and the color of sunshine and promise. I will speak the word in a breathy whisper when melancholy comes calling, I will visualize it behind my closed eyelids and think of it anytime my world turns even the slightest shade of blue. Journey, this is a journey...and tomorrow there will be a new one.
jour·ney
1.an act or instance of traveling from one place to another, usually taking a rather long time
2.chiefly dialect : a day's travel
3.something suggesting travel or passage from one place to another, journey through time
