‘Yearning’

Yearning

/ˈjəːnɪŋ/

noun

1. a feeling of intense longing for something.

What is yearning but unfulfilled desire dressed in a fancy word? And what is desire but the fuel for suffering?

That’s all it is really. Longing for something that is not yours. Feeling tormented by it. Wanting something so bad you can feel this ‘yearning’ crawling around your chest and digging its claws into your flesh begging for release. Needing something so terribly your eyes cannot bear to the sunlight of another day without having it.

Do you see how I described this feeling? There are so many means of expressions that can be used to describe it. We see it across all forms of art, through paintings, literature, poetry, theatre, photography, it is one of the most universal and familiar conditions. This state of yearning has pained us so much through so many generations and centuries of humanity, to the extent that this is how we have learned to cope with it. By turning this specific kind of suffering into something beautiful, as if to ensure that this suffering is not in vain: at least art bloomed alongside it somewhere.

From classic plays to modern music, yearning is the pinpoint of emotional authenticity. It is one of the few negative (by definition) emotions that is not ostracised, but met with acceptance as it has become its own muse. This pain is disguised as something noble and fervent, and therefore people wish to associate with it, as if enduring this suffering makes them somehow more poetic and interesting. It becomes a source of comfort in a way. Knowing you don’t attain your longing isn’t the worst outcome, because enduring this longing for longer only further attests to your ‘depth’ and ‘passion’.

I get it, yearning makes for a dimly lit room with rain outside and you sat alone writing away in a journal how badly you desire something or someone, but there reaches a point, where you remain stuck in this glorification of suffering, and don’t want to take that step into the pursuit of healing and fulfilment. We need to take off these yearning glasses and look at things from a different lens; ones that make space for all the things we long for, but also how to find meaning in all the other things we once longed for but now have in our hold. It’s okay to yearn late at night when the world is quiet; but if it’s day, either make it happen and take steps towards whatever it is you yearn for; or put it away.

Your life isn’t supposed to lived in a constant heartache. Your heart deserves to beat for all the things you have now, not in constant longing for the things you think you’ll have in your hands tomorrow.