I always thought that one of the best things that Art could do was to turn sadness into beauty. Alchemy. That kept me going for a long time, but as I start to get old I realize that everything beautiful eventually turns into sadness.
I sort of knew this all along, of course. Mark Twain told me so. But it's one thing to have someone (even a very wise man) tell you something, and another thing to experience it.
Then I remembered the Navajo Beautyway chant:
In beauty may I walk
All day long may I walk
Through the returning seasons may I walk
...and I remembered that beauty is much larger, more powerful than anything in the human world.
With beauty before me may I walk
With beauty behind me may I walk
With beauty above me may I walk
With beauty all around me may I walk
In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty, lively, may I walk
In old age, wandering on a trail of beauty, living again, may I walk
It is finished in beauty
It is finished in beauty