Showing posts with label happiness. Show all posts

i think i'm all better

For years, and years, and years, I have been depressed. You can imagine my surprise when twice in one year, I heard from my caregivers (yoga teacher and therapist) that "My energy has changed."

Since I think "energy" is kinda bullshit...
(actually, I don't at all, but I am embracing this skeptical phase of my life wherein science and empirical evidence could more readily explain spiritual phenomenon, which of course it can't.  you can see my bifurcated dilemma) I had to ask them more pressing questions.

"I seem happier?"
"Should I stop coming to therapy?"
"Should I discontinue use of my antidepressants?"

So I suppose I am happier.  But am I cured?
FuckifIknow.
Idontreallycareaboutacure.

I just know what helps when I feel the miserably futility of this life on this planet. Gorgeous and absurd, though it is. We are born, we love, we learn, we drink and eat, we work, we play, we read, we have sex, we make children, we make art, we eat and drink some more, we die.  Then our children love, learn, drink, eat, play, read, sex, art, procreate and die.  Then their children...

It's stupid!
But it's glorious in between.
I live for that in between and have staved off the cold scientific reality of our fate (which I am still working on finding comfort in, as my husband does) with a few tools.  I thought perhaps I'd share them with you, should you be looking for a way to remove some TODO from your life and add some TOBE.

TOBE Activity List for the Warding Off of the Sisyphus Complex:


1. Read.  A lot.  Don't buy books.  Max out your library card with book after book which will then give you a time limit for actually finishing these books. Take notes on these books.  Post reviews on these books.  Keep track of and share what you learn. Learn something totally new.  If you have personal gaps in your education, fill them yourself instead of assuming paying a University Ks of dollars is the only way to be an expert on something.  

2. Demand solitude.  A lot.  Do not say to your friends who are good at being alone "You are so much better than I am about finding time alone."  Do not martyr yourself for your children or for your work or for your friends or for your obligations.  Just get a babysitter and go to a coffee shop and read.  Just decide to go to lunch by yourself and write a letter to your mother or old friend. Just be okay with leaving your husband with the kiddos (or pups or house-ish responsibilities) and truly leave them...then take your solitudinous self out to stare at bugs on a lake or take a class you've always wanted to take but have instead martyred your desires to your children, work, friends, or obligations. Do not fill your rare moments of solitude with junk TV or dead routine.

3. Therapy. Antidepressants. Wine. Friends. Love.

4. Stop multitasking. If you go on hike and find the most precious bird carcass, don't update facebook until you get home. Be in the moment. There is some disagreement surrounding photography and if it removes you from or immerses you more in the moment. It immerses me, but I do have a tendency to be impulsive about sharing it right away.  I've tried therefore to take the photos, but share later.

5. Stop deciding that the most important thing in your life is to help someone ELSE be great.  If you raise your children in that example, they will only ever do the same.  Teach them instead that a woman cannot possibly do it all on her own, but with help and a strong village, a woman can stay smart, stay stylish, stay learn-ed, stay active, stay passionate, stay independent, AND be a kickassmother.  

Just be great.
Those tots (or friends or work or obligations) will keep up.
Trust them to allow you your own greatness.


I've been reading a lot.  My life has built-in time to do so, but that doesn't mean it's easy.  I could just as readily spend my reading time doing a myriad of other things that need doing, but SUMMER IS FOR READING.  There is a whole world of creative non-fiction I didn't even know existed.  Shame on me for being so closed minded for so many years.  Don'tassumethismeansI'llreadeffingharryporker.

I am happy, but I think I'll always be more comfy in shadows. That's okay.  Black is my signature color.


p.s. If all else fails, kiss a baby's cheeks.

A Spring Clean of the Mind

This morning, entirely without the aid of my usual onslaught of supplements and bestowed upon me whilst dying my hair and sitting cross-legged in my pajamas, I stumbled into a pocket of softness.  I hate it when people say "This life is good, people.  Just look around you!" as an admonition to others, preaching that if only they were able to open their eyes, they could also see that this life is good. No.  Their lives may not be good.  So I say today that MY life is good, really good right now.

I say this while muzzling the temptation to caveat the happiness.  To tell you that my life is not without its hardships and deeply-rooted psychological angst, to assure you that I am still relatable.  To know and be comfortable with my born-in sadness, I have always strived.  To know and be comfortable with my newly-acquired happiness, I have never had practice.

I am a wayfarer for melancholy, after all.  I can shout from the mountaintop  "EMBRACE YOUR SADNESS; MELANCHOLY IS BEAUTIFUL; YOU CAN TRUST DEPRESSION."  I've been so long happy in the covering shade that I didn't realize how uncomfortable the sun actually felt.

You may therefore be able to imagine my surprise when my message drastically changed to "WTF, HAPPINESS!"



That aside, I believe that one of the reasons I stumbled into this soft soul-space this morning has everything to do with the fascinating and vulnerable conversations I've had with a few women, has everything to do with the gorgeous summer salads Joel and I have been eating, has everything to do with the easy pace of my days, has everything to do with the support I receive with Bowie, has everything to do with the rich and copious reading I'm doing or the satisfying pursuit of writing and writing culture, has everything to do with gorgeous new pair of Michael Kors boots I used a gift certificate to buy, has everything to do with a hormone rebalancing, yes.  All are true.

But more than that...this I stumbled upon a freewrite prompt in my mind that busted me wide open.  Eight pages later, and even though I had to stop writing to shower and attend to my progeny, a nonstop ticker of answers to this question have presented themselves.

The freewrite topic:
"I used to believe..."

I know from experience that the attempt to capture one's personal growth is one of the most difficult possible.  To chronicle how a human feels and thinks and knows herself from birth to death is THE noble feat to which I aspire, the goal that butters my existential biscuits.

Inner change is not only hard to write about because it's tricky to pinpoint, but honing in on personal transformation is vastly difficult because it requires me to refrain from judgment, to confess with vulnerability some very embarrassing and ignorant viewpoints, to cringe at the knowledge that much of what I say will make people I love either defensive or hurt their feelings deeply.  However, the best writing comes from the truest place, and every time I allow myself to be stifled by how I imagine my friends and family will receive these thoughts, I draw my mind's eye back to a scene that immediately serves perspective on my plate in big ol' southern portions.  I imagine myself dying, and imagine that I will deeply regret living my one life for a myriad of other faces that may or may not agree with me, and may or may not be compelled to pray for my back-slidden soul.  Writing down what I used to believe requires the courage to see words pour out of you that you have always known were there but never had a home outside of your brain, and DAMN it feels good to spring clean my mind.

It always feels good to say the thing you never want to say, even if it's only something you say to yourself.

So...what happens for you when you think (without thinking) about your answers to "I used to believe"?  Let me say that if you have no answers, that if you find yourself believing what you have always believed...you have stumbled into one of my greatest fears for humankind.

We must evolve and grow.  Even if that means all you can say is that you used to hate Lady Gaga, and now you appreciate her.

Hell, if that's one of your answers, you are way more evolved than I.

Softly,

coasting into pure being






I've been saying it too often lately, but this week has felt like seven generations of myself have passed through this tired brain and body.  It has made tonight's goodness even good-er.  I enter my house in solitary reflection as I used to enter St. Mark's cathedral - in awe of the sacred, anticipating a message from the cosmos, eager for the communion of wine.  I turn on Debussy, I pre-heat the oven.  Each movement feels important; turning on a bedroom light becomes a whispered prayer as in vigilant lighting of a candle for your soul.  The unintentional intentionality of cooking, pouring, cheersing friends in solo whispers.  I am happy to feel happy to be alive.

I am buoyed by you this week, your gentle eyes reading without judgement, your helpful email, your quiet ache for me, your determination to write me a letter, your driving to visit me, your making me laugh, your helping me see, your meeting me for a glass of wine, your commitment to refrain from flattery and love me true. 

It is pure.

le poème



Nightshade
I have in me a sickness
that doesn't allow me to see
clearly.  Or makes me see
too clearly the sadness
of all living things.

Recognizing the death
before glorying in the life.

The end always taints the preface.
No matter how happily
ever
after.

He drove us home Sunday.  I leaned out the window like a new puppy.
Trees black against summer's dusk.
Sometimes I swear I can see the earth's curve
as clearly
as the sinister hip of a whore lying on her side.

Naked and Vast.
Suffocating hope.

My body could not contain the Bliss.
I was petrified to identify it
Least it run rebellious from its namesake.
But I did.
And it stayed.

We've been getting along better these days.




a peek into happy


 [ From my journal ]
[ 1 September 2010 ]

"I suppose it just occurred to me that despite the tribulations (significant as they were) of the past year, I am happy.  Happy to me means finding stillness.  Despite a constantly changing whirlwind around me, I stand content in the hurricane of instability.  I was just preparing a cup of peppermint tea.  It's only 8:30am and I've already made zucchini bread, showered and dressed, and have sat down to write.  It was during the heating of my water and opening the yogi tea packet that happiness dawned on me.  "May your inner self be secure and happy."  I agreed with the wish and then realized I was already there. Shocked at the idea, I quickly scanned my life to grab all the reasons why this preposterous notion could not possibly be true.  Many circumstances, significant sadness, transitions, finances, relational complications - but alas, I look out my kitchen window and felt remarkably good inside.  It might be the calming fog of Fall, the cool weather making me crave classical music and challenging literature, but more so I believe it is because I've managed to take care of myself.  

I've done a lot of work in the last four years.  When I failed so miserably at self-care while teaching, I had to spend so much time sifting through a flea market of tools...picking up many to find they were not intended for me.  Now, I have a carefully planned shelf (a self-care cabinet, if you will) all for me.  I can now easily find and reach the things I need to do to love my time alone and get the most soul out of a sporadic and scare amount.

The hope.

Another significant symptom of my depression.  When depressed, the only banal question plaguing my thoughts is to ask "What's the point?"  Often with a bleak answer.  Some answer MUST be found in order for me to find relief from the weighted sadness.  Now, although I have no answer, the very question plagues me less.  It seems really far away in a forbidden forest...or if I can access the question, I feel it is somehow not intended for me right now.  I hope to god this does not make me naive.  But the hope is back."

In an ethereal, existential, transcendent way,
I think I'm finally getting better.