Just as day declines to evening, so often after some little pleasure my heart declines into depression.
Everything seems dull, every action feels like a burden.
If anyone speaks, I scarcely listen.
If anyone knocks, I scarcely hear.
My heart is as hard as flint.
Then I go out into the field to meditate, to read the holy scriptures, and I write down my deepest thoughts in a letter to you.
And suddenly your grace, dear Jesus, shatters the darkness with daylight, lifts the burden, relieves the tension.
Soon tears follow sighs, and Heavenly joy floods over me with the tears.
(Aelred of Rievaulx)