When I was in graduate school, an elderly lady lived next door to our lively bachelor pad. We almost never saw her, but I remember once she said to us across the fence, “I’m tired. I’m just plain tired of life.” There was no mistaking the profound inner weariness in her words. Somewhat bewildered, I thought, “Wow, how unfortunate.” Though I had experienced a share of travails and disappointments, such a disposition was largely beyond my ken.

It isn’t anymore. And she and her words come back to me with some regularity. I am not saying that I find myself now in her place. Yet I do see how one can come to such a pass, and this is from my own and others’ experience.

I have wondered: How can you love life so deeply and yet at times become so wearied with it? But I am starting to discover something. Not only are these two things not incompatible, one is the condition for the other.

If we didn’t so deeply crave to live a full and rich life, we would not be so wearied by our failures and the ways in which we fall short. And here is something striking. Our very weariness is a key sign, a reminder of what it is to be human, and of the greatness for which we are designed.

More, our weariness is a specific prompt, indeed a call for us to do something. It calls us to look carefully and ask why we are weary. Are we laboring for something that will not satisfy? Then of course we will be weary. Our weariness then calls us to ‘convert,’ to turn to seek what is better.

Yet one might ask, in all honesty, “What about me? I’m doing my best to labor in good paths for good ends. Why am I so weary?”

Perhaps this weariness is a call for a different kind of ‘conversion’—namely, turning in a particular way to other persons, both human, and divine. We are trying to do too much on our own, as though life is simply somehing I must do.

Here a line of the Gospel comes to mind. Surely, the Lord speaks to every one of us when he addresses “all you who are weary.” Thomas Aquinas writes that this laboring, this weariness is broadly experienced since it stems from “the fragility of humanity.” This is a noteworthy term.

Our fragility is not a design flaw. It is part of human life in this world. And it can move us to hear the call, Come to me. Let us be yoked together. And with me, yoke yourselves to one another.

I wish now I could go back to that neighbor, though I am not sure what I would say to her. But at least she might find in my heart some understanding of her heart; and some encouragement that being tired is certainly not the final word. ~ ~ ~

LISTEN to our NEW PODCAST EPISODE: DEALING WITH MENTAL and EMOTIONAL EXHAUSTION. “What do you do when you’re tired, just really tired?” John and Sofia unpack this pressing question and address this very common experience, offering a realistic and encouraging analysis and approach.  Find and share all our podcasts HERE.

Image: La Melancolie by Louis-Jean-François Lagrenee

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