In The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Zosima’s young brother, Markel, comes down with deathly sickness and experiences a complete transformation. He begins to have loving madness. I first experienced this on Friday, June 2nd, 2006 and wrote about it. This is one of the greatest and most meaningful experiences I have ever had. This is the reason I became a vegetarian. I pine to keep experiencing this continuously. It’s very difficult to keep having this feeling and especially acting on it. Prayerfully, with time, I will be able to draw closer to loving like this. This is my meaning of life: to wake atremble with love.
"Light it, my dear, light it, what a monster I was to forbid you before! .. do not weep, life is paradise, and we are all in paradise, but we do not want to know it, and if we did want to know it, tomorrow there would be paradise the world over. … Why do you serve me, am I worthy of being served? If God were to have mercy on me and let me live, I would begin serving you, for we must all serve each other. … each of us is guilty in everything before everyone, and I most of all."
At that mother even smiled, she wept and smiled: "How can it be," she said, "that you are the most guilty before everyone? There are murderers and robbers, and how have you managed to sin so that you should accuse yourself most of all?"
"Dear mother, heart of my heart," he said (he had then begun saying such unexpected, endearing words), "heart of my heart, my joyful one, you must know that verily each of us is guilty before everyone, for everyone and everything. I do not know how to explain it to you, but I feel it so strongly that it pains me. And how could we have lived before, getting angry, and not knowing anything?"
Thus he awoke every day with more and more tenderness, rejoicing and all atremble with love.
…
"My dears, why do we quarrel, boast before each other, remember each other’s offenses? Let us go to the garden, let us walk and play and love and praise and kiss each other, and bless our life."
"He’s not long for this world, your son," the doctor said to mother as she saw him to the porch. "From sickness he is falling into madness."
The windows of his room looked onto the garden, and our garden was very shady, with old trees; the spring buds were already swelling on the branches, the early birds arrived, chattering, singing through his windows. And suddenly, looking at them and admiring them, he began to ask their forgiveness, too: "Birds of God, joyful birds, you, too, must forgive me, because I have also sinned before you." None of us could understand it then, but he was weeping with joy: "Yes," he said, "there was so much of God’s glory around me: birds, trees, meadows, sky, and I alone lived in shame, I alone dishonored everything, and did not notice the beauty and glory of it at all."
Book Six, Chapter 2, Part A: Of the Elder Zosima’s Young Brother
Translated from the Russian by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky
Loving madnessThis entry was originally published at Interconnectedness by Mikhail (Misha) Lomize