Longing

"Longing" is a word not easily translated into other languages. In German there is no word which conveys the depth and breadth and hollowness, the French is more bereft, Russian hangs on the idea of thirst, which at least understands the organic interiority of "Longing."

We have discussed Longing to the point where the word became noise and would not yield its essentials, its kernel of truth about the human mind and conscious. By the accident of association we understand Longing to be a long-lasting state of mind, but its length is not the essence of it, nor is the participial nature (its "ing" ending, which conveys a progressive, continuing nature of the state). Longing is much more serious than "pining," which seems at first to be associated with puppy-love and seasonal romance. Maybe Longing is related to "yearning," which also seems to be a lengthy process—but more focused and volitional.

Yet, for all its linguistic mystery, somehow we learn about Longing and by the time we are adults we have definitely Longed for something. Perhaps the key to Longing is the possibility of ambiguity of the something Longed for. We can easily say she Longed for the days when she was girl and her guard needed not to be so constantly up. We understand when someone says that he Longs for the time when he will treated as an adult. Perhaps Longing is about complex ideas for which we assign simple words to act as tokens or markers, like "youth," "adulthood," both very complex and in the complexity many things we are fairly certain the person really does not want to experience.

Some of us, probably everyone who visits this website and/or one of our Gatherings, have the experience of a Longing that defies definition. It is something we have grown up with, matured with, lived with all our lives, yet we know that there is something we need to experience or experience again, but it eludes our vocabularies, our focused attention, and leaves us in a restless state of mind.

Many of the worlds great philosophers and spiritual leaders have identified mind states that come close to the English language Longing. Their native languages provide flashes of insight, but ... as always ... Longing remains Longing, especially that elusive "Longing," undefined and slightly inchoate.

Our goal is to approach the indefinite Longing and see whether we should give it definition or let it be. If we are to let it be, then our goal is to find that sense of security about indefinite Longing that comes with the knowledge that others have indefinite Longing, too, and that it is not a neurosis or pathology, but rather something quite human and very closely related to our spiritual nature.

If we are to approach that evanescent undefined Longing more closely, though, with the goal of finding its definition, we must understand that it may yet elude us, or it may turn out to be something unpleasant from the past that could not resolve. It could be something born in the anxiety of first separation from one's mother. It could conceivably be a glimpse of that next level of consciousness that we are pursuing. It could be a form of happiness that we no longer find in our lives, congealed and reified into its own "thing," a thought caught in the web of our thoughts and defying being filed away. Things from the past being gone cannot be changed, so we may find the definition to be unrewarding, annoying, bitter, but sometimes a source of unbelievable joy.

My Longing is very inchoate. It is fuel to much of what I am. I cannot help but pursue it, for as Tennyson's old Ulysses said

I am "... always roaming with a hungry heart ..."

JB