melancholy

There is an undeserved happiness in melancholy.

That very personal sorrow is an admission of something better being out of reach yet a calm affirmation that everything is okay the way it is, and often the way it has been many times before. The powerful introspection of melancholy is wonderfully addressed in this article: 5 Types of Melancholy

Melancholy is a defensive response, and a powerful one at that, because it perpetuates contentment. Melancholy is not the path to growth. Melancholy keeps us from achieving our dreams by telling us that our dreams are hollow, meaningless, and that our singular reality is all we really need.

Milan Kundera writes, "Anyone whose goal is 'something higher' must expect someday to suffer Vertigo. What is Vertigo? Fear of falling? No, Vertigo is something other than fear of falling. It is the voice of the emptiness below us which tempts and lures us, it is the desire to fall, against which, terrified, we defend ourselves."

This definition of "vertigo" is, in my opinion, the complimentary opposite of melancholy. It is an uncertainty in reality rather than certainty in an unreality. "Vertigo" is opening yourself to new possibilities. The terror we instinctively face it with; the tingling nervousness and rush of blood; is proof that while your dreams may not be completely realized, your time will be well spent. When you are driving to a first date, when you show your work to an admired artist, when you stand up for your own opinions, you are overcoming melancholy.

Belief in melancholy is a belief in superiority over our fellow humans. The very focused and tangible burden of melancholy is opposite the radiant and infinite possibilities of life. Through melancholy, one can wrap themselves in layers of faux-happiness and protection. It would be dangerous to stay there.