As human beings we are wonderfully complex creatures. I often wonder do our animal counterparts go through the complexity of the wonderful spectrum of emotions, like we do? Like the fabled poisoned chalice from Macbeth we are burdened and blessed with the full array of emotions. The past three days have been a burden, however that is only because the last 30 years with her, were blessed. The physiological heart is a muscle to circulate blood to all the organs, however metaphorical heart is much more than a muscle. It is where we store all our hopes, dreams and emotions. Sometimes we let them out to play with all the other kiddies. Other times we keep them locked in as we feel we do not wish to burden others with our woes, after all it is just us that feels these things correct?
Lady Macbeth followed her head. She convinced her husband that meteoric aspirations were plausible and getting those would and should involve and means and be just. Ultimately the heart won in the end and she succumbed to feelings of remorse and ultimately her death over her guilt. Scholars have debated over whose role was greater in the Massacre of King Duncan. Was it Macbeths thirst for power, or was it Lady Macbeths. One thing that is not up for debate is the moral of the tale. Heart will defeat head every time. We cannot deny our feelings lest they spill out into unhealthy manifestations. This is a common theme in many of Shakespeare’s tragedies’ and a common lyrical device to centre a plot. I recall my lessons in Shakespeare very fondly as often beneath all the hidden imagery and ye old language, their is a very simple message. In this case that we cannot and should not block out our emotions. I am finding this out gradually in my own personal journey.
As I walked home today after work I looked up at the Manchester sky and seen a storm cloud. It was black and angry. Full of mischief. Those who have been enjoying this great British summer will most certainly agree we are due a spot of rain. We need a good storm to release all that humidity so we can all get a decent nights sleep. Like that big back cloud this week I was walking on the precipice of a storm. I could feel the droplets forming, almost teasing to burst out onto the streets below. My emotions were turning to a point they were taking over. I felt anger, I felt pure rage, I felt sad. That beautiful spectrum of emotions was tipping into the darker magenta tones. Finally yesterday I just let the storm rage. I burst into tears then I burst into anger screaming at everything in my apartment. The act itself would cause people to question this little Irish boys sanity I’m sure. My neighbours will be sending out the white coats at any moment. Though I defy them not to feel this raw emotion themselves at some point in their lives. They will understand I am sure of it.
I feel I was like Lady Macbeth in Act 1. I was doing what my head told me to do. I was acting a little too normal, a little reserved in my approach to grief. People would ask how I am and I would act very Hugh Grant like and mumble what people wanted to hear, “yeah its hard but I’m coping”. That’s what is expected. I am now very much in Act 2. I have grabbed the poisoned chalice and it burns, it burns with all that emotion that has been waiting to escape for months. How does that feel? Id be lying if it said it felt bloody marvellous however it feels better than having it all pent up inside. Like this unseasonal weather I needed to crack at some point. I needed my storm. Thankfully we do not have monsoon weather as I doubt my little heart would cope with the pain. A storm to release the humidity is good every now and again. After a storm comes clear skies and cooler temperatures. Also its pride next month so possibly a rainbow to boot?
I shall go to bed tonight thinking of her as I always do. Tonight though I feel just a little bit lighter in myself.
night night xx
A Grievers Guide to the Galaxy 