Excerpt from Matthew Arnold’s “The Buried Life”:

But often, in the world’s most crowded streets,
But often, in the din of strife,
There rises an unspeakable desire
After the knowledge of our buried life;
A thirst to spend our fire and restless force
In tracking out our true, original course;
A longing to inquire
Into the mystery of this heart which beats
So wild, so deep in us—to know
Whence our lives come and where they go.

This excerpt captures so well the thirst and fire that I currently feel welling up within me. These past few weeks I have felt so full to the point of bursting. And it’s not a “good” or “bad” kind of fullness, just an uncomfortable one. For Arnold, the “buried” life is uncovered through the  speaker’s relationship with his beloved. For me, I suppose the same could be true…I hope to uncover my “buried” life through my relationship with God. However, this current discomfort is somewhat difficult to manage along with the rest of my life. It means, even when the students are well-behaved and learning is happening, I don’t want to be at school– when teaching is rewarding, I am somehow looking for some other kind of motivation. In addition, in my relationships with friends, I find myself particularly sensitive. It’s one of those situations where I feel like the more I try to control my emotions, the more emotion I FEEL. I guess the difference between validating and surrendering to emotion is a fine line to negotiate.

For all this discussion of emotion, the true message of this poem has to do with an individual’s meaning and purpose. Being at a crossroads in life, a point of decision, it doesn’t surprise me that every little experience I have causes me to consider and question aspects of my identity and my purpose in life. Who will I be in 5, 10 years from now? What experiences must I still traverse to become that person? What pain/discomfort will further refine my character to make me into a clearer reflection of the divine? What joys will I play a part in creating? Do I want to continue down a path of difficulty, where my greatest struggle lies in finding peace and rest–true fulfillment? Somehow, I always thought that doing a “meaningful” job would bring me fulfillment and satisfaction. But after a year and a half doing something incredibly meaningful, I don’t think that’s the case. Nor do I think that doing something mundane, or living hedonistically would make me content. How does one find contentment, fulfillment, or happiness in oneself when the very meaning of these terms seems to imply that something must be gained/added to what was/is? What I’m really saying is, how do I become happy in my own right when I feel like there is something more to be had, needed even? I take comfort in the idea that Christians ought to experience some measure of divine discontent with this world. I ought not get comfortable here as my true home rests in heaven. Others have suggested to me that perhaps this discontent is the way God urges me to seek Him more ardently. However, I will stick with Arnold and call it, “mystery” and continue to inquire of my wild, deeply beating heart.

Advertisement