Contradiction
I Find No Peace
-Sir Thomas Wyatt
I find no peace, and all my war is done.
I fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice.
I fly above the wind, yet can I not arise;
And nought I have, and all the world I season.
That loseth nor locketh holdeth me in prison
And holdeth me not—yet can I scape no wise—
Nor letteth me live nor die at my device,
And yet of death it giveth me occasion.
Without eyen I see, and without tongue I plain.
I desire to perish, and yet I ask health.
I love another, and thus I hate myself.
I feed me in sorrow and laugh in all my pain;
Likewise displeaseth me both life and death,
And my delight is causer of this strife.
Pretty fitting this poem shows up now, another instance of divine intervention I guess. This poem to me is another evidence to be filed away about shared struggle, one that persists through time. For me the poem is about contradiction, on how things happen completely irrationally, at least at first glance. How natural it is for humans to violently waver in stance back and forth, for me most commonly realized in the simultaneous desire for human connection, and to be left alone. How easy it is to want the easy soft parts of interaction, but without the consequence or cost.
Isn’t it silly how we want things we don’t want? What curious creatures we are.