So many posts on FB seem to be in the genre of uplifting, thoughtful, and light... or angry, and raw, exposing the shadow things that proliferate. Something is missing. What could it be? I feel the compunction to add another thread on the world tapestry. Dont know why, yet something is telling me: do it, do it, go on do it! So here I sit trying to arrange these flashes of thoughts that whizz through my consciousness. However awkward, I find myself thinking about the much avoided subject of depression. What is that about, for you? What words would you put to a level of living, that any of us, either have, can, or are experiencing? For me, words fall short, to convey the essence that is depression. I see it consuming many. Stifling their life force to the quick. Overwhelming most and killing others. Western society has decided to fix this with a pill. But does it really? Depression is a silent force, a behemoth among us. Exhumed from 6 feet under and looked at more with curiosity, yet still, not with comfort, or ease, nor in the light of day. We feed it daily with self flagellation, shame and expectations taken on, from the society of family, tv, cyberspace or friends. We internalize these burdens, as if they SHOULD be our own. We crumple under the weight. We keep silent just the same, while mouthing the primal scream HELP inside. Paradoxically its in silence we think depression will go away, evaporating into the ethers of neverland. IT WONT. The ONLY way to move this stagnating energy from inertia to vibrancy. is to take the sometimes excruciating painful baby steps towards pulling back the mystery, the experience, the blanket, the darkness. To shine a soft loving light on the tears, the fears, the rage, the pages of wordless litany, the hopelessness, the lostness, the invisibility within it all. Its going to take us. as a global community, to hear with different ears..the sounds of depression that others bring forth. To reach through to a new understanding. To realize, with compassion, that this effects us all. To let those you connect with (no matter what the avenue) you authentically hear them, no matter how faint the sound. We never know how acutely we effect another.The life raft our words may send to someone far away. The impression a hug, well timed, will make. The hope bestowed by simply being present, willing to listen and BE with someone in their pain. One small word authentically placed, on the heart of another, can be the perfect seed, at the base of the ladder they climb to exit from the heavy silent shadows depression creates. Words are energy, the copper wire that connects us all. They reflect our thoughts, and intentions. Received and defined by others, according to their lifes experiences, associations and where they are in their now. When we listen through the filter of depression, whole perspectives change and tilt, with both the depressive and those that are within the depressives life, no matter how remote. As muffled as a depressive seems on the outside, the hearing is acute within. The sensitivity magnified by the vulnerable, raw and bleeding woundedness exposed within, yet still invisible to an outer world that swirls around at a dizzying pace. Doesnt anyone hear me? Doesnt anyone see that Im in trouble? Am I invisible? Can be the thoughts uttered silently on the inner stage that depression has built. Just to get those words audible to another, can be a tortuous struggle. So simple for those not muzzled by the dream-like despair depression creates. Globally, it seems to have descended like a thick viscous blanket over much of humanity. Keeping us silent, disengaged, muted, wordless, disempowered, dimmed, dark, withdrawn, unclear, tangled, occupied, fearful(at times), ashamed, in pain, isolated, consumed. It is a wonder that we get up and do the routine of life. The miracle of even being able to tie our shoes. Depression keeps us from our full selves, from our world,, keeps us from the unique creation that is our world, as well as uniquely creating our world. It keeps us from feeling, and being able to be present for the I that is me and the Me that is I. It deafens us to all that is possible, and as it continues, it deadens us, flattening everything in its sight. On the flip side depression can be very beneficial to healing and processing Sometimes, if we felt the full impact of whats happening within, we would shatter without the cushy blanketing that depression provides..the muffled nurture of it. It is a filtering apparatus, forcing us to take things slowly. Sometimes we must go inward to get the rich fertile soils of our experience, moving it to the surface, processing, feeling and releasing towards a greater love, a warm embrace. This process is fraught with pot holes and herein lies the danger. We get lost within. It gets too smoky from the flame flickered embers of rage burning deep within our soul. The violations pile up, the embers crackle and pop. We dont hear the alarm bells warning us that were in trouble. Gotta get out of here, the support beams have almost burned clear through, the building may collapse, the smoke is so thick, from the smolder of long dormant feelings we arent even able to see the exit sign thats flashing on and off. Miraculously, IF we gain sight, even for a moment, or hear the call from another, we can find the life line to pull ourselves out. To turn that in-turned rage, outward where it belongs. To release the bonds of shame that shackle us from the movement needed to express the rage within. To allow that opening that feels the wounded soul we are, at once so desperately avoiding, yet thirstily drinking its revitalizing wisdom, as we grow still within its presence. It both frightens us and fascinates us. Miracles do happen. We slowly learn embracing our authentic self is filled with wisdom, guidance, connection, abilities, dreams(good ones this time), celebration, thankfulness, and rejoicing that there are miracles -you, me and every living thing. Our definition of living changes and life becomes brighter. Yet still, I sit here, thinking there are no fairy tale endings. Depression is part of living life fully. It is part of the ebb and flow of being human. I takes great courage to keep listening to the communications within, at all points, but especially when depressed. Depression is so vast and takes so many shapes sizes colors and avenues of expression. I sincerely believe it is behind so much of the worlds ills, both personally and globally. From war to the child curled up in the corner immobile and mute. From the drug addict to the anxiety ridden high functioning career person. From the homeless person to the high society reality star. My point is it effects us all, including animals. We are ALL connected. We are all wounded. How we heal those wounds and how we feel and act upon our definitions of self love, self acceptance, self reliance, and self creation, reflects out in the form of our light, our legacy, our humanity. It is used by some, as a tool of quiet oppression that silently creeps over the land. Despite that, I have this sincere wish for humanity: That depression becomes an acceptable talked about pathway, towards deep compassion for the absolute fragility of life, gratitude for the serendipitous miracles along the way, a realization of soul filled appreciation for the deep courage it takes to come forth, with your truth that more then likely was laid bare by varied levels of the behemoth amongst us. The tensile strength that takes to even breath, when besought by this, makes me in awe of the human spirit.. The miracle of simple things accomplished when under its weight. Now the gratitude in using this darkness as a pathway to seeing how bright the sun shines when the blanket of depression is finally thrown back.
Posted on: Sun, 27 Jul 2014 18:42:56 +0000
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