December is a time for holiday, cheer and festivities, but for
me, last December (2022) was a month of deep despair. I felt trapped in a room with no
escape from my own thoughts, unable to see any light at the end of the tunnel.
I had no hope in life, feeling like a ship adrift in a sea of sorrow. But it
was in that room that I stumbled upon a book - a classic, one that was so full
of grief that it spoke directly to my own. And in the pages of that book, I think
I began to find solace.
Emily Bronte's "Wuthering Heights" also touched my
heart, with its tale of love, loss, and longing. The passion and intensity of
Heathcliff and Catherine's love was both beautiful and heart-breaking, and I
felt like I was transported to the moors of England, experiencing their love
story first-hand. This book taught me that love, even in its most extreme
forms, can bring both joy and pain, and that it is possible to find peace in
the midst of heartache.
Every time I feel that familiar wave of grief begins to rise
within me, I reach for a classic, and I find myself transported to another
world, one full of characters who have faced the same struggles that I am
facing now. I see their stories unfold before me, and I am reminded that I am
not alone in my suffering.
The characters in Leo Tolstoy's "War and Peace" face
war, loss, and heartache, but they also experience love, joy, and triumph. They
show me that life is not a linear path, but a journey with its ups and downs.
And through it all, they hold onto hope and resilience, reminding me that it is
possible to endure and emerge from the storms of life with grace and strength.
Along with these, I found comfort in the poems of John Keats
and Percy Bysshe Shelley. Their words are like a warm embrace, reminding me
that even in the darkest of times, there is still beauty and wonder in the
world. Their images of nature, of sunsets and seascapes, bring me a sense of
peace, and their words of hope give me the courage to keep going.
From time to time, when I feel that grief returning, I return
to these classics, drawing strength and comfort from their pages. I find myself
reaching for them, like a sailor reaching for a compass, and I am reminded that
I have the tools to navigate through the storms of life. They are my anchor, my
safe haven, my refuge in the midst of chaos.
As I delved deeper into these classics, I found myself drawn
to their rich language, the vivid imagery, and the timeless themes. They were
windows into the human experience, capturing the complexities of the human soul
in a way that was both relatable and inspiring. I was struck by the
universality of their messages, and I was amazed by how relevant they were even
after centuries.
In reading these classics, I was reminded that the human
experience is a journey, full of ups and downs, twists and turns. But despite
all the hardships, it is possible to find meaning and purpose in life. The
characters in these books showed me that it is possible to endure, to find hope
even in the darkest of times, and to emerge from suffering with a renewed sense
of purpose.
As I closed the last page of each book, I felt like I was
gradually emerging from a dark tunnel into the light. I was coming to terms
with my own grief, and I was becoming ready to face the world with newfound
strength and optimism once again. Reading these classics was like a ray of
sunshine, bringing me comfort and hope when I needed it the most.
I would say, classics have the power to heal, to offer solace and comfort in times of distress. They are a reminder that we are not alone in our journey or in our grief, that there have been great women and men before us who have seen the worst and overcome.