muddy puddles

It rained heavily overnight, and this morning there are puddles everywhere, muddy puddles. And looking at these puddles, I feel a mixture of feelings in me.

They evoke at least two different feelings. One feeling is of sadness. The puddles look rather forlorn. Each individual puddle looks rather isolated somehow. There's a sadness that comes, looking at these puddles, and yet at the same time there's a sense of beauty. The puddles are still, tranquil, each one unique in its shape, in the nuance of the colour of the mud. And somehow, it's as if the puddle is a work of art, a natural work of art. And this evokes this sense of beauty.

And seeing these muddy puddles, allows me to feel these two feelings simultaneously: sadness and beauty. And if I really feel my way into these feelings, if I allow myself to become these feelings, they don't feel separate to me. There's sadness in the beauty and beauty in the sadness. It's really one emotional response.

And feeling this I realise that sadness does have a beauty to it, in any situation. Sadness has a depth. It's as if it goes much deeper than we can know. It's more profound than thought. And this depth gives something of the beauty to sadness, the fact that it is unfathomable, just as these muddy puddles are opaque and we cannot see the bottom, so it is with sadness in a way: we can feel it, but we can't really see the bottom of sadness. It's as if it is bottomless. And somewhere in sadness is a beauty that relates to a nobleness, and a respect. Allowing one's sadness, honouring it, brings a feeling of self respect. There's a sort of nobility in it, and this too carries an air of beauty.

So I give thanks for these muddy puddles, thanks for the reminder of the deep beauty in sadness.