You know that feeling you get when you've rushed out of your house or office and you're just trying to get to the train and you're stuck inside your head thinking about (and only about) all the things that are annoying you or stressing you, and you feel like there is a dark cloud, rumbling with thunder, just over your head, following your every step? I'll bet you're nodding your head in recognition, because I see it on the faces of my fellow commuters every day. I've found a sure-fire method of interrupting this cyclical and detrimental thought pattern. I look at a tree.
OK, I know it sounds simplistic, but I've been reading about maintaining a sense of awe and bewilderment to broaden your mind and make a closer connection with the universe, and I find no better way to do this than to contemplate the natural world. It's even more impressive when you look at a tree growing in the middle of a sidewalk. Even the bare trees of winter give me pause. Where did it come from? Why did man first remove a tree from this place and then put one back? I like to think about the potential of a bare tree, dormant for now, but harboring the magic of the spring bloom, imagining what it will look like in April and how many different leaves and flowers will appear, seemingly overnight. I mean, that's pretty amazing!
I stop thinking in circles, and allow myself to be awed. Maybe the sun didn't really come out from behind the real clouds, but when that self-imposed thunderhead is blown away, everything looks brighter.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Calming, Separating
Very stressed this week. I quit my job and haven't gotten my conceptual business off the ground. I have been putting off doing the laundry for two weeks. Not a success in business or domesticity. Plus, I developed a strange eczema on my eyelid, which puts a damper on public performances, which is supposed to be the reason I quit my job. Yesterday was a "depressed" day. I tried telling myself not to think thoughts that weaken me, but I wouldn't listen. Despite depression being a relatively sedentary state, internally it panics me. I feel caught in an overwhelming whirlwind of inactive action items.
Today I went to the doctor. The man who normally sits in the lobby had died. There was a sign on the wall. I've been going to that office for a good eight years, and he was always there, although I didn't know his name. His name was Gene. Well, how can you be depressed now, I thought? At least you're not dead. The doctor gave me a prescription and said it would "calm it down." I liked that. I needed something calm. Rite Aid was no help, so I tried a Polish pharmacy I'd never noticed before. They had what I needed and were very friendly. For seven years I have relied on the chain store, even though they never recognized me ("Have you been here before?" Yes! Practically once a month for seven years!). Why do we think that just because it's expanded and homogenized it's good?
A disappointing condo viewing threatened to push me back down, but I remembered I promised Sean I would d the laundry. Accountability. You want to make sure you do something? Ask someone else to hold you to it. While I was there, I ran into my neighbor. I found out he's a minister. No wonder his little family is so pleasant! (His wife and four-year old son came by this morning to return a plate to me and thank me for the brownies I put on it. Jonah had written a note, but was to shy to give it to me. Do I scare children? Anyway, it was sweet.) We talked about making your own hours and the discipline it requires. I realized that I have a lot to offer, but I can't do it all. I have to choose what to focus on. And if I have been putting something on my list over and over and I haven't done it, I think I'd better just do it or take it off.
That's when I separated from depression and rejoined the land of the living. I turned off "True Life: I Have Tourette's Syndrome" on MTV and put Boston's first album on the CD player while I made chicken soup from scratch for my sick hubby. I made a decision not to perform in an audience-vote competition tonight, which would be unnecessarily stressful and unfulfilling and would not advance my actual career. No longer a failure in business or domesticity. And no one had to die. Except Gene. Sorry Gene.
Today I went to the doctor. The man who normally sits in the lobby had died. There was a sign on the wall. I've been going to that office for a good eight years, and he was always there, although I didn't know his name. His name was Gene. Well, how can you be depressed now, I thought? At least you're not dead. The doctor gave me a prescription and said it would "calm it down." I liked that. I needed something calm. Rite Aid was no help, so I tried a Polish pharmacy I'd never noticed before. They had what I needed and were very friendly. For seven years I have relied on the chain store, even though they never recognized me ("Have you been here before?" Yes! Practically once a month for seven years!). Why do we think that just because it's expanded and homogenized it's good?
A disappointing condo viewing threatened to push me back down, but I remembered I promised Sean I would d the laundry. Accountability. You want to make sure you do something? Ask someone else to hold you to it. While I was there, I ran into my neighbor. I found out he's a minister. No wonder his little family is so pleasant! (His wife and four-year old son came by this morning to return a plate to me and thank me for the brownies I put on it. Jonah had written a note, but was to shy to give it to me. Do I scare children? Anyway, it was sweet.) We talked about making your own hours and the discipline it requires. I realized that I have a lot to offer, but I can't do it all. I have to choose what to focus on. And if I have been putting something on my list over and over and I haven't done it, I think I'd better just do it or take it off.
That's when I separated from depression and rejoined the land of the living. I turned off "True Life: I Have Tourette's Syndrome" on MTV and put Boston's first album on the CD player while I made chicken soup from scratch for my sick hubby. I made a decision not to perform in an audience-vote competition tonight, which would be unnecessarily stressful and unfulfilling and would not advance my actual career. No longer a failure in business or domesticity. And no one had to die. Except Gene. Sorry Gene.
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