BitterSweetLife

Last night I was kicked back at my in-laws’ place, watching UConn pull out a win over Gonzaga while I read an article on “the psychology of prayer.” Admittedly, the picture could have been improved by the presence of the KU Jayhawks on the court, but why split hairs? Anytime you can combine hoops with theology, the picture is undeniably attractive. And on a larger scale, the potential for beautiful things to be enjoyed in tandem is something I’m grateful for this year. A few examples are ready to hand:

Rugby and life purpose
Coffee and books
Turkeys and family

By way of a caveat, I should note that sometimes the last duo merges—so that a family member becomes the former article—and the usual enjoyment is somehow compromised. But this is incidental.

At any given moment, there are innumerable contingencies in life that could supply themes for paeans of convicted thanks. For example, all the grass might be burnt orange, the sky could be a permanent cinder-grey; that this is not the case is a nonoccurrence worthy of considerable delight. But today I am childishly happy that our sensations are symphonic, that is, that we can experience them simultaneously. Life did not have to be this way.

This afternoon, I savored a delicious stream of sunlight without remaining indifferent to the stark black branches through which it poured. I’m relieved that I can process the luminescence of light without being blindsided by the poignant properties of matter. Likewise, I can chop wood while drinking cider (I’m not saying it’s easy) or “channel” Autumn while reading poetry. Neither pleasure eclipses the other, and I am left to mix and match them liberally, my resources and imagination the only parameters.

I find myself thanking God that tactile sensation does not prohibit olfactory, that optical power does not preclude imaginative. In the immersive experience tied to this creation, this life, joys come all tied up in each other. It’s entirely conceivable that we could have been designed as single-input creatures. Our display systems could have been monochromatic, if you will: Register black, and only black, then turn to gold-white, and gold-white alone… Night skies would not have been the same. Instead, our joys are multicolored, stereo-symphonic.

A single-input world would have been considerably simpler, but very flat. In such a place, Bittersweetness would only be a concept, not a taste; not a painful joy; nothing more than black marks on a page. And so one of the truest signposts to the next place would be lost.

I thank God this isn’t the case, that our sensations run into each other like fluids, pool like a careening watercourse, lend each other sound and color. Melded sensations add acuity. We see life’s goodness and it’s lack through multiple lens, and intuit that bittersweetness is a clue to unseen truth.

All this makes me happy, and very relieved. What would I do if joy and pain occurred in separate vacuums? What would I do without the insistent knowledge that arises when the two of them combine? Existence would have a manic quality. Bittersweetness would not appear to provide clues and hope.

Thank God this is not the case. Thank God for the relatively unappreciated phenomenon of sensation-integration.