The word depression, however commonplace in our lexicon, still retains a sledgehammer effect when I hear it used to indicate a state of being—mine or anyone else’s. Aside from its use to describe a well-entrenched, disabling mood disorder, I prefer the French word ennui, a lighter shading of mood description. It can be subtle and seductive, like a fine Pinot Noir or Cabernet Sauvignon, unlike depression, which may overwhelm the senses like an aged piece of Roquefort. Ennui arrives out of the shadows, offering the possibility of change whereas depression bludgeons us with hopelessness, a sense that change is impossible.
Once again, my meandering mind or soul has latched onto a word that stirs my curiosity and desire to make sense of feelings, moods, and/or emotions. This time, as is often the case, with respected, albeit unlikely companions—Winston Churchill, Sigmund Freud and Bruno Bettelheim, Martin Luther, Maya Angelou, and Leonard Cohen—whose writings suggest they’re in agreement, that being sad and weary has a place and offers an invitation into what may be possible. “On we,” as ennui is pronounced, signals the journeying from shadow into the light of becoming.
Ennui is a first cousin of annoy. It is the French word for boredom or weariness; it may signify lethargic disappointment, unexpected melancholy, a deflation or sudden disappearance of zest. I know, it has done so to me on occasion when colors fade, joy is elusive, and every step I take is annoyingly difficult.
While lying in the dark, doesn’t it sound better to have a diagnosis in French—ennui—than the English cudgel—depression? Tolerating or managing disappointment or sadness in a relationship, or despair following an unexpected life event seems more doable for me when I self-diagnose a spot of ennui rather than a “rough patch” of depression. Languor and lassitude, like their kin, ennui, bring a smile to my face when I say them aloud in the midst of struggle.
That smile, however, is easily altered by disruptive and annoying struggles; the chattering of my inner world, and the clanging discordant sounds of the world around me, both vie for my attention, impact my mood, and unsettle the balance in my life. When confronted by my personal “inner hell” and current events sap my resilience, Winston Churchill’s words come to mind: “If you’re going through Hell, keep going.”
And as I “keep going,” wrestling with spates of ennui, I receive comfort from Freud’s belief that the purpose of psychoanalysis would, through exploring our sadness, make us become wiser. In Bruno Bettelheim’s words “We cannot experience what we cannot remember and we cannot remember what we try to forget.” Freud believed in and recommended psychoanalysis (introspection and reflection of one’s soul) because it can reveal the connection(s) between our essence and actions and enable us to live fully into our greater humanity.
Bettelheim further states: “The good life, in Freud’s view, is one that is full of meaning through the lasting, sustaining, mutually gratifying relations we are able to establish with those we love, and through the satisfaction we derive from knowing that we are engaged in work that helps us and others to have a better life…and our dark impulses are not allowed to draw us into their chaotic and often destructive orbit.” Lord knows my palpable dark impulses may crave expression, and their denial fosters ironic disappointment.
I’m keepin’ on, Sir Churchill!
Martin Luther, the 16th-century German monk and theologian, knew about ennui before the word existed. He ran afoul of Pope Leo X for his beliefs and was excommunicated from the Catholic Church. I imagine he experienced a “spot of ennui” prior to declaring his enlightenment as he wrote: “This life is not righteous, but growth in righteousness; is not health, but healing; not being, but becoming; not rest, but exercise; we are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it; the process is not yet finished, but it is going on; this is not the end, but it is the road; all does not yet gleam in glory, but all is being purified.”
Luther’s convictions are given a contemporary voice in the words of Maya Angelou: “I’m working at trying to be a Christian and that’s serious business. It’s not something where you think, ‘Oh, I’ve got it done. I did it all day—hot diggity.’ The truth is all day long you try to do it, try to be it. And then in the evening, if you’re honest and have a little courage, you look at yourself and say, ‘Hmmm. I only blew it 86 times. Not bad.’ I’m trying to be a Christian. I’m always amazed when people walk up to me and say, ‘I’m a Christian.’ I always think, ‘Already? You’ve already got it? My goodness, you’re fast.’” The ennui of life’s frustrations, sadness and pain became her friends. It was the pursuing, the working and trying, not the arriving, that filled her with hope and stoked her faith.
Her recitations of poetry, that unmistakable voice of passion and wisdom, have inspired me in times of sorrow and hopelessness, when I succumb to ennui. Though I’ve never heard Ms. Angelou sing, I can imagine a duet with Leonard Cohen performing Anthem, affirming the presence of hope, and strivings for “light” amidst brokenness and sadness:
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget the perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in.
Ennui is a buoyant word for me, offering hope in the shadows. Depression, however, appropriate a diagnostic label under certain conditions, has an “end game” finality to it.
There are no solutions, so say the prime minister, psychoanalysts, theologians, and poets, nor is there perfection. However imperfect life may be, fraught with ennui, there is a crack in everything through which the light may emerge to shine on our brokenness, that of the world, and bring illumination to both. Persistent ennui is no match against the strivings for keeping-on, learning and self-knowledge, speaking our truths, living a spiritual life, and embracing hope.
by 
So helpful! This is a hopeful way of thinking, and not one that began only with Carl Rogers’ “On Becoming.” I am going to integrate “ennui” into my “discours de tous les jours,” my everyday speech (I used Google translate for this one)! As with poetry, it seems anytime I observe language as a symbol with nuanced meanings, and not the thing itself, I can enter an open space that allows for “playing,” dreaming and imagining— a freedom to move away from the stuckness of wounding and powerlessness. Like the difference between banging my head against the wall and running through an open field.
Cindy,
Thank you for this response–a challenge with appreciated imagery! Carl new something about humankind. Unconditional positive regard, acceptance, and empathy cannot be offered until/unless we have something of each in our souls for ourselves coupled with ceaseless striving for more. Along with ennui as part of “everyday speech,” embrace the image of “running through an open field,” and do both with the reckless abandon of a child embracing freedom. Picture that person, you, me, or any of us shouting ennui with uplifted arms while running through that open field!
Roger
So I needed to read this a second time in the morning, in front of my light box, and while drinking my daily antidepressant (caffeine) to “get this”. Yesterday, I seemed to get stuck in the “chattering of my own inner world”. I don’t even remember registering Winston Churchill’s quote about being stuck in Hell. I didn’t understand what Maya Angelou, let alone Martin Luther, were trying to get across. This morning, Kim and I were laughing out loud as I read parts of this to her, and Kim is planning to lift the Maya Angelou quote for the bulletin. Thank you for giving me a second chance. Of course, isn’t that what “grace” is about?
Ted,
Thank you and Kim for reading, commenting, and laughing. Caffeine always assists with clarity. This is an intriguing group, any one of whom would have been stimulating to share a cup of Joe with–or in Sir Winston’s case something a bit stronger! “Of course, isn’t that what “grace” is about?” Yes, and as a practiced tester of second chances by last [unofficial] count I’ve been graced with 56,978 second chances, and that doesn’t include today!
Roger
I loved this Roger. As one former UM Bishop Woodie White said, “The good news is the bad news is wrong.”
Peace Kim
Kim,
Amen and Selah many times over to Bishop Woodie White who got in Right—“The good news is bad news is wrong.”
Thank you, Kim.
Roger
Roger best ever!
Very insightful, descriptive, thoughtful and challenging. Voices of Churchill, Maya Angelou, Freud, Leonard and Bruno (Bruno?). Wow! I’ll be sorting this out for a while.
Rich
Rich,
Thanks for reading, “sorting this out” [me too!], and commenting.
Roger
Roget, Madame Reid would be delighted with your inspiration of ennui to express your thoughts and feelings about our voyage clair et sombre avec l’inevitable let yin and le yang dans cette vie……..I appreciate your taking us along on your journey and weaving the wisdom of those different voices from Churchill to Anjelou within your piece of the puzzle. I love the hopefulness you present when ennui comes out of the shadows and helps to enlighten us. Journey on and write on, mon ami.
Colette,
Madame Reid was an inspiration to us and left an indelible impression for which I’m grateful–a boon in more than one way. Maya and Winston danced, journeyed from hopeless circumstances into hopefulness and light. We are grateful for their showing us the way. Thank you for reading, sharing your thoughts, and your presence in the caravan seeking “light.”
Roger
Very powerful. Thanks for sharing it. I like the image of light getting through the cracks – I do believe that it is our problems (ennui, hopelessness, disappointment) which often drive us to the realm of “ultimate concerns” (Tillich) where our deepest questions are asked and where the light of God’s guidance may be found.
Ned,
Thank you for reading and commenting.. That place “where our deepest questions are asked and where the light of God’s guidance may be found” rings true for me, thank you. Also reminds me that Tillich believed the opposite of faith was certainty not doubt–and so passing through the darkness with doubt in hope and faith that we’ll find the light is powerful.
Roger
Roger, a timely read for me as my life, as it was, is slowly being stripped away. I combine this with your sharing on missing the ball game with your friend that suffered from a bad hip. My bad self is resentful and then I come to my senses and allow my better self to proceed with acceptance, and the knowledge that I am capable of loving.
Admiral William McRaven, in his small but lovely book Make Your Bed suggests we not go it alone. As you quote those who have gone before us, you prove this point. We need the big brothers and sisters. That’s why I love my belief in the communion of saints.
I am fortunate to have a family that understands my ennui as they also are experiencing it. My children are the light that shines through the cracks.
Thank you for sharing your humanness.
Carmen,
Thank you, Carmen. That communion of saints, the wonderful and varied crew they are, give us hope and revitalize our faith when life strips away that to which we’ve been accustomed. We’re not going it alone even in spite of ourselves.
Roger
Thanks, Roger! Ennui is hopeful. “On We” go. One foot in front of the other. Keeping on. Keeping on for me is striving toward happiness in the midst of things the way they are. Being present in the moment with a sense of gratitude is very helpful in that endeavor.
Dona,
Thank you for these comments. Yes, on we go, one foot in front of the other as we embrace the moment, not easy sometimes, and strive toward both happiness and contentment when our efforts seem ineffective in a world too full of discouraging pain and hopelessness.
Roger