Melancholy Wrap Game

'Living above shadow-and-sun-street'
Image by RobertPaul. via Flickr

If Bumper Stickers contain truth no matter how limited, exaggerated, or simplified, today I would make one that reads:  Melancholy Descends.

Melancholy is like Sad’s Shadow.  It sneaks up on you and covers your light.   You can walk around and it follows you.  It makes you feel like you’ve got this darkness attached at your heel and you can’t get rid of it no matter how hard you try to shake it off.

It leaves when its darn good and ready.

You might say that, like a shadow, the way to get rid of it is to shut off  all the lights and go into hiding.  But that sort of lets it win because while Melancholy might leave, it leaves the door open on its way out to its  far more dangerous sister, Despair.

Melancholy woke me up this morning.  Actually I think it met me in my epic dream and then joined me in reality when I stood up.

I do things to try to lose it.  I think happy thoughts.  I drink another cup of coffee.  I take out the trash and pretend my Melancholy is in with the greasy paper towel and broken toothpick holder.  I turn on the radio and invite myself out into the life in the world.  I remember conversations I had yesterday when people told me of prayers answered and failures defeated.  I put a smile in my voice.

But it remains.

I guess the best thing I can say about Melancholy is it does seem to have a short attention span.  As do I.  But I also am much more stubborn.

So the game is:  if I consistently refuse to give Melancholy much attention, it moves on.   It will return, I know, but every time I bore it silly with my refusal to give it my time,  I win a another round.  And while it is off finding another player, I am keeping score.

And in the time it took to write this post, Miss Melancholy must have been bored to tears, because it appears I won that round too.

Point me.  Here comes the sun.

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  1. In the palm of my hand, I’ll hold a little you
    I’ll put you in my pocket when you’re feelin’ blue
    Zing zing a zang go the strings of my heart
    Cling cling a clang I’ll never let you part
    Oh! sweet baby!

    Meanwhile baby!… oh! sweet baby!
    We’ve got a lot to learn about love in this life…
    My melancholy baby…..


  2. I’d like my Vicar, Barbara, to hook up with you/your ”
    shoes. Her site is
    It is a weensy parish in Clayton.Not even 100 all told.


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