I don’t know about you, but I love newspaper horoscopes.
Even though I am generally quite interested in the politics and reviews and general goings-on sections, after I pick up a paper I thumb through its inky recesses immediately, looking for the best morsel in the whole thing: Pisces.
It’s not that I really put a whole lot of faith in horoscopes, being as generic and vague as they are (a joy-killing skeptic once pointed out to me that, since there are twelve signs of the zodiac, then that Pisces horoscope would have to apply to approximately one-twelfth of the population…). I just think there’s something kind of cool about something so outrageously esoteric having such an exalted position along with serious news of the day.
It is rare, however, that any particular horoscope really stops me in my tracks. A few months ago, however, one did. I wish I’d cut it out or copied it down, because I felt like it had been written specifically for me. It went something like this:
Pisces: The Portugese have a word, “saudade”, which does not really exist in any other language. It is defined, approximately, as a “…vague and constant desire for something that does not and probably cannot exist … a turning towards the past or towards the future.” Get over yourself. It’s time to let it go, and start celebrating what you have.
For whatever reason, this really punched me in the face, and got me to thinking about my life. At 27 years old, I have had innumerable amazing and fortunate experiences. I have sailed halfway around the world; skiied in the Alps; lived in the woods; camped in the high desert; waltzed in Vienna; owned my own boat…. and the list goes on. But somehow, nothing has ever been enough to quell the fierce case of saudade which has brewed inside me for as long as I can remember. Nothing has ever been quite intense enough, no adventure is extreme enough, no relationship perfect enough, no job interesting or challenging enough, my body never thin or fit enough, no living situation exciting or edgy enough. For as long as I can remember, I have lived with an aching dissatisfaction with my life – for absolutely no reason. Not anywhere near as debilitating as genuine depression, but always there nonetheless. Even logic continually failed to cure it. No matter how many times I told myself that ‘there are millions of people out there who have it worse off in every possible way’, I just could not seem to get over that ever-present, background saudade.
Cry me a river, well-educated first-world healthy-bodied well-loved princess!
I’m not really sure where it came from, but for the first time in my life, I am really starting to feel content. I realize “content” is not a very strong word, but it’s not a very strong feeling. It is the absence of the saudade. The saudade has, for once, retreated with its murky shadow and left me with this very foreign, airy-fairy feeling of contentment.
I have so much to be thankful for! I have a man who loves me more than life itself. I have a rock-solid family who have and would support me in anything. I have a great career, doing something that is not always exciting and challenging, but definitely can be. I have a car that runs. I am blessed with health and fitness. I live in a place that is begging to be explored. Right this very minute, I am being paid an absurd amount of money to do absolutely nothing – legitimately!
I am not sad to see you go, saudade. I hope your vacation is lengthy, if not indefinite.