For a long time I believed that in order to deal with sadness, you had to sit in it.

I have spent many years sitting on cold floors, in dark rooms, holding together my own bones with my small hands wrapped around my shaky knees. I have spent many years observing and feeling and asking. My whole life, I have opened the door when sadness knocks, I have invited it in, set a place for it at dinner. And sat.

The thing I have come to know the most about sadness is that it MUST be normalized, it just must be. Otherwise we end up feeling alien and alone, sensitive and overdramatic. When we just really truly, are not. We are doing the one thing we know, being human.

But, here in the tiny moments of a seemingly long human life, I shiver at the the holy irony that our time here is but a blink of an eye in comparison to the eternity extended to us. The eternity where sadness will never knock again. It won’t even know where we live.

There is a certain strange beauty to me about knowing sadness while I’m on earth. As if I’ve been entrusted with the weight. As if i am understood so deeply by the one who understands best, that I can hold it with some purpose. I know with unwavering certainty that the Man who hand stitched the very fabric of my heart, is not allowing me to be in pain for no reason. He does not close His eyes on my ache. Does not pull back when I am hysterical. Does not turn His back on my isolation.

I do not understand much about the purpose for sadness, but I think that maybe before I can understand, I have to walk a long long way with it - maybe all the way to eternity.

But in the meantime, whenever sadness shows up, I’ll open the door, go outside and take it dancing with me in the streets. I know that God doesn’t want me to hurt, but the most He can ask of a human soaked life, is that if we must hurt, at least dance. We create the beginnings of eternity now, by dancing.