You're right, as usual, but it's two different ideas to me.
Opera is all about incredible emotions and passions; endless grief, devestating betrayals, great tragedies, but there is also perfect love, fearless courage.
Operatic is a good word that describes periods in my own life where everything was bigger than life, or impossible, or overwhelming. Even good things were hard to handle.
Everything was personal. War in the mid-east? Where have I (as a human) failed? My sister got sick. Did I (bad brother) cause that somehow?
It was all about me; everything.
I think this was because then I really didn't have to think about me. I didn't have time to. And all to hide and avoid dealing with what happened to me; the tragic things in my life.
That's a constant emotional state which is exhausting. You learn to numb it all out or go Mad. And you wait, and you get by.
Eventually you realize you have to let it all go as much as you can; get rid of it somehow. You realize it takes too much effort and time to live like that.
You wonder where the years went. And you get mad that they're gone. And you decide then and there that the rest of your years are YOUR OWN.
You say, OK, tragic, horrible things happened to me, but that doesn't make my life a tragedy.
It doesn't make me or my life horrible. And I wasn't an idiot for letting it control me for so long.
Then your past becomes a personal Opera that you have lived and cried over, learned something from, and then put away.
Back on the shelf. There's those books now, Mark. True stories, all of them, always in sight, always reminding us, BUT not something we care to carry around with us all the time any more.
We can can check them anytime for reminders, or warnings, but as time goes by we don't need to. We may want to, but we don't need to.
And there's this good part; We get to write new volumes evey day. New stories, good stories, happy stories, Our Stories.
Take care, Mark. Happy Birthday!