themarginalian.org · 6 hours ago
Writing about Bryan Doyle's posthumous essay collection, Maria Popova traces a quietly radical argument: that learning to live and learning to love are the same impossible, necessary work. Doyle, who faced his own death from brain cancer, found in a small dead mole in his garden the whole shape of human longing - "we are all largely solitary, and spend whole lifetimes digging tunnels toward each other, do we not?" His most devastating proof of love's power comes from the people who leapt from the Twin Towers hand in hand, whose joined hands he calls "everything that we are capable of against horror and loss and death." What emerges is not consolation exactly, but something sturdier: the conviction that humility - not as self-erasure but as trust in what cannot be controlled or proven - is the only road that leads toward love. "The small is huge," Doyle writes, "that the tiny is vast, that pain is part and parcel of the gift of joy" - and with every breath, he reminds us, we are already choosing which direction to walk.