Tag Archives: depression

Hello Darkness, My Old Friend

So depression has been calling my name lately. Lurking, although not fully present.

I’ve been working through it with various practices (which I’ll share in a post if anyone’s interested) and reading about the spiritual gifts of these dark nights of the soul. Here are some excerpts from a chapter on despair in the book Healing Through the Dark Emotions: The Wisdom of Grief, Fear and Despair by psychotherapist Miriam Greenspan.

Depression, Greenspan says, is “unalchemized despair.” She points out that only in the last 60 years or so “have we started to consider depression as a medical condition.”

“In a culture that condemns despair, it’s hard to look at this emotion in a way that honors its dignity, power and wisdom. Viewing it as an illness beyond our control, we don’t have to feel blame for it. This lessens despair’s stigma and gives us some hope.”

“From the standpoint of almost every culture and time except this era in the United States, the psychiatric approach to despair would be seen as naïve or nutty. The idea that only cheeriness is normal has a distinctly Brave New World feel. It’s no wonder that despair, the darkest of the dark emotions, is virtually taboo in our society. Feeling this bad in a feel-good culture is transgressive; it goes against the grain in a culture of denial.”

I’m not afraid to be transgressive, ha.

“Women, the elderly, the disenfranchised and artists, among the most vulnerable to despair, might have something to contribute to the culture from out of their despair, rather than in spite of it. What gifts lie in these darker realms? And what about confronting the denied darkness of our culture and society.”

What if instead of just focusing on our medical history and length of symptoms, psychiatrists asked, “How is your depression connected to anger? Is there any relationship between your depression and things in your life that make you feel disempowered or without a voice?”

Greenspan writes “More than grief and fear, (despair) has a moral and social dimension that calls us to pay attention to and make meaning out of human suffering. Enter this dark night of the soul, insists the voice of despair. Look at the world’s pain without your usual protections…If you can bear your way through this night with patience, you will be moved to a muscular faith that has looked into the heart of darkness and emerged to affirm life.”

Greenspan illustrates the transformative process through stories of her own and her clients’ journeys through despair. Facing the anguish from her young daughter’s serious medical condition, for example, Greenspan allowed her grief to flow and entered into a deeper felt connection within the web of life of which she and her daughter are a part.

“Despair invites us to journey into the fertile dark. This is no trip to Tuscany where we walk the vernal hillsides watching the sun’s light on the landscape. It’s a journey to the dark inner core of our banished selves and our failures to create a humane world.”

“It comes with an urgent call to grieve our losses” our lost dreams and to “re-examine the meaning of our lives.”

“Transform yourself or be damned, the voice of despair seems to say.”

What do you think?

Depressed? Connect!

Depression is disconnection.

Disconnection from:
self,     others,      the world around you      and      the great Mystery.
Medications and therapy ease the symptoms, but are not a cure.

You know that, right?

My guess is that every person reading this either takes, or knows someone who takes, anti-depressants and still experiences some level of depression.

Why? Because CONNECTION is the only path to relief.

Anti-depressants can give us the boost we need to get out of our ruts and seek connection,
but without that critical step – connection – there is no real end to the misery.

Need some ideas of what can connect you?

I have suggestions,
but the key is to do something mindfully,
meaning that you are present in the activity
rather than just trying to get through it or pass the time.

Connect to the moment.

Be present to the moment and clear in your intention.
If your intention is to connect with yourself,
then create something that releases your spirit onto a physical form – paper, clay, garden plot – even if just for your eyes only. Or move your body in a way that focuses your attention on how the air fills your lungs or the sun warms your face or each of your muscles pulls and releases. 
If your intention is to seek connection with others,
then be mindful during your interactions with others of feeling tenderness for each person. Dare to have deeply honest and meaningful conversations.
If your intention is to connect with the world around you,
then be present to the clouds, the grass, the birds.
If you intention is to seek connection with the great Mystery,
then let your mind soar into the space of your ancestors, the moment you came into being, or the source of all Love and Beauty.

You can connect by:

gardening, painting, writing, running, playing, volunteering at a senior living center, dancing, volunteering at an animal shelter, taking a slow walk in the forest as the trees graciously fill your lungs, performing your own water ballet in the deep end of the local pool, meditating, volunteering at a crisis nursery, praying, heart to heart talks with an old friend, heart to heart talks with a new friend, doing something for the sheer joy of it, reading a book that questions reality, watching a movie that shows you life through fresh eyes.

What works for you?

If this sounds overwhelming or you don’t know what will connect you and you don’t have the energy to find out –
then get the boost you need from medication, therapy –
and then take that next step towards
connecting yourself to what brings meaning to your life.

Stepping Out of the Grey and Into Color

When I first moved to the city where I now live, I stayed in a girlfriend’s studio apartment in a drab part of town and worked a miserable, rotten temp job which took 2 dreary bus rides to get to because I had no car. The girlfriend worked evenings and I had no other local friends. My life was mired in drudgery and I could see no way out.

Two long, sad months later, I learned of a quicker route home from work so I hopped on a bus headed in the opposite direction of the way I usually went. Only one mile later, the bus rounded a curve and my grey world suddenly transformed into living color.

There was a beautiful lake. It was filled with colorful sailboats and surrounded by bike paths. There was a sandy beach with happy sunbathers enjoying the afternoon. Just past the lake were outdoor cafes and bookstores and bike rentals and ice cream.

A veil was lifted. I could see beauty and fun and LIFE after a long time of forgetting any of it existed.

I raced into the apartment to tell my girlfriend what I saw, but of course she was well aware of the lake because she lived in or near this city her whole life.

“But, it’s beautiful and there’s so much to do and…”

She just grimaced. “It’s crowded. We don’t have a boat.”

She could not stomp my buzz. A whole new world was revealed to me, a world of bright colors, happy, active people and natural beauty. I felt hopeful, renewed & alive.

Soon, I moved to a place a short walk away from the lake. I adopted a dog and every warm weekend I took him for a swim, sometimes with my new neighbor friend and her Weimaraner mix. I’d toss the yellow tennis ball into the water, breathe deep and remember that life does not have to be dreary. I moved out of temp work, made friends and changed my life.

Sometimes the veil starts to fall again. Sometimes without noticing it, I slip into autopilot, doing all the things I HAVE to do and forgetting to do anything that wakes up my spirit.

For example, for a long time I had a job doing work that was meaningful for me but slowly the environment around me started to change. The bureaucracy increased at the expense of the work I was doing in the community, the employees grew bitter and petty, and a feeling of dread began to descend upon me every Sunday night as I thought about going into the office the next day. I stayed at that job for too long.

When the veil falls, we cannot see beyond it. We forget about the vibrant worlds that exist just outside of our current experience. We come to believe that we have no choice but to live in the gray.

Grief, depression, anxiety, shame and unworthiness…any of these mental states can drop the veil over us. But sometimes it is something more subtle – the daily-ness of life with all of its responsibilities and mishaps – that gradually removes the color from our sight.

If we are able to remove the veil, step out into the magnificent world and make choices that increase the vibrancy of our days, our lives improve drastically -and then

something funny happens. We reach another veil. We notice the limitations of the physical world and are able to glimpse the ultra-magnificence of what lies just beyond it: the spiritual realm.

To put it in the simplest terms: There are times that I live in drudgery. I simply exist and go through the motions. Then there are times when I am propelled out of the drudgery. I experience joy and beauty on a more regular basis until I am making choices that bring greater meaning into my life. This meaning transforms into a sense of connectedness with others and with the world and with the Spirit that encompasses all. Living begins to feel like a prayer of gratitude.

But then a tragedy occurs or some other setback and the veil drops again. Such is life. But each time, it is a little easier to keep in mind what lies just beyond it.

IMG_1662(view from my window in the Spring)

When was a time a veil lifted for you? I’d love to hear about it!