Back From Black…

Colours.jpgThere is so much going through my brain. It’s exhausting! Thank heavens for meditation. Usually I’m pretty mindful, too, but presently I’ve got to be conscious of it. In other words, I have to work at it. My innards are like a kaleidoscope, whirling and turning. I don’t know how else to describe it, though that sums it up well enough. A swirling, jumbled mass of movement. At least it’s colourful.

Thankfully, my outside world is filled with a more ordered array. The grey concrete streets are bordered by deep green boulevards dotted with bright yellow dandelions. Wild cherry, white and pure, buttery dogwood, redbud and apple tree blossoms delight. Azaleas in full bloom, rhododendrons ready to follow suit, daffodils stand beside tulips, and everywhere else, from my neighbour’s willow to the numerous maples, trees are erupting in every shade of green. I’m happy about this new life and must concentrate my energies on renewal, which reminds me. Yesterday, as I walked to the café, an eagle soared above me close enough to touch. Okay, well not that close, but I could see its eyes!

The owner arrives today to kit up the house. So far, I’ve made due rather well. I’ve a single bed that’s slightly more comfortable than the floor, a fitted sheet, one pillow and case, a child’s sleeping bag that is too small, lots of towels, and one lonely dishcloth. There was dish detergent and Mr. Clean left in the kitchen and I was pleased about the rolls of toilet paper in the bathroom. I look forward to a proper comforter for my little bed and the pure luxury of a washer and dryer. A pot and pan and some more cutlery would be ideal, too. I can do without the microwave she’s promised, but if she has it, I’ll enjoy it.

She’d written the house needed cleaning and that she would take care of it this weekend. I’ve done it, needless to say. It was quite clean actually. Nothing a good dust and wipe of the floors couldn’t take care of. In the initial ad, there was mention of some yard work. There is no lawnmower, no tools of any kind in the shed, and after seeing the state the lawn is in, I’m hopeful she’ll decide to hire it out. The yard is big and awkward so I’m keeping my fingers crossed she’ll pass on purchasing all the stuff I’d need, and put the cash toward a professional. I’ll let you know.

These distractions are good for me today. In my last post I said I was down but that regardless of my mood, I’d “get up”. I’ve done as promised and am soldiering through the day so far. Those feelings did not abate with sleep so I remain a bit blue. Today’s mood is familiar, though and so I’ll acknowledge the existence of difficult emotions without letting them get a grip. However, they are strong.

A depressive’s mind is a dark and sorrowful place mostly. It is not an evil place, but rather it’s a subjectively pessimistic realm where beauty is watched from a distance. All the colour, all the great and glorious magic of this universe exists, but can only be accessed by others. A depressive is not worthy of any of it. They can only see it, never touch or hold it. Today, vivid memories of that place bring with them a staggering amount of pain.

The “me” that recalls that contrary place is delicate and shaky. I hold vulnerability as a shield against feelings of shame and regret. I can barely muster the courage to defy the old voices that want me to believe my life has been a folly having neither given nor received love. They laugh at my belief in dreams and wishes telling me they are absurd and, like me, superfluou

I can feel her intensely, the “me” of memory that lived in that world. She was lonely and misunderstood. She overflowed with an invisible compassion for all of life, but especially the marginalized and disenfranchised. She harboured an immeasurable desire to give and receive love. But the darkness swallowed her, swallowed all of her.

Today, as I speak with her, the “me” of memory, I want her to know she is forgiven. I want her to feel she can forgive herself. She cannot make right, she cannot relive, she cannot redo. She can only forgive and try to live in the light of this moment, in the light that takes full responsibility her life and places no blame. Oh, and I want her to give herself a piece of that love she felt so deeply for others. She deserves it. We all do.

My wish for you all today is that you remember your beauty, your child-like innocence and purity. No matter what has unfolded over time on your journey that singular sacredness remains. Look for it. Hold it. Cradle it and let yourself return to the place of co-creation that brought you here. Just for a second, let yourself feel it. Breathe it in deeply. It is a place of infinite possibility. It is Love and, as always, it is the healer, the balm, and the answer.

Until tomorrow…

5 thoughts on “Back From Black…

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