Despite the horror of the night before, in the morning the birds still sang, the flowers still opened and the sun continued to shine regardless ... And it is this surging indifference of the world to suffering, particularly noticeable in the spring, that strikes some minds as cruel.
But, for me, it allows petty personal concerns to be placed within a wider (non-human) perspective; enabling one to see as beautiful what is necessary in things. I draw much comfort knowing there is an eternal return of the natural world the same as ever and thronging with greenness.
In fact, sitting at the hospital, I wonder how those individuals who fail to encompass their own lives within what Lawrence terms the blue of the Greater Day manage to find the courage that is needed to survive and flourish in the face of a mortal existence that brings with it an enormous quantum of pain and sorrow.
If they can't transform the undifferentiated black-nothingness of death into a line of flight and fiery resurrection, then it's no wonder they become possessed by that spirit of revenge which animates so many who slander life as it is and long for spiritual immortality and heavenly reward.
Ultimately, it's not Eliot's moral idealism but Nietzsche's perfected nihilism that makes innocent and sets free; which shows us joy in a handful of shit ...
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