As I move
out of my mid-70s towards my 80s, I am becoming more attuned to and accepting
of the cycles of my days especially as they “go south” into the grays of
depression which has been a part of my makeup since I was a child. I have the time now that I am retired to
feel them more fully, explore them more deeply. And I have the knowledge gleaned by therapy, existential reading
and classes, discussions with friends who find hope even in conflicts,
calamities, and depression, to know that:
1) depression can turn around. 2) I can change my thoughts and
perceptions. 3) Much depends on my attitude and expectations. Many examples inform me: Hurricane Sandy; the Sandy Hook tragedies,
to name two. Glued to my TV and radio
the first day or two, I grieved deeply for those I did not know personally, but
felt deep in my heart and soul. I
looked at the shattered homes and shattered lives, listened to the names,
looked at the faces, and cried. Then
came the stories of love, of compassion, of people helping people, victims
helping other victims, people digging deep into the love in their hearts
connecting to others and to the world of love, not hate. There were other stories, I know, but I
chose to focus on the stories of love and to look in my own heart for ways I
love and ways I can love now and in the future.
My secret
grandiose goals of years past—of being a successful psychologist, successful
writer—were all about money and fame.
They hinged on others approval and disapproval, of success as the world
so often rates success—number of clients seeking my services, reading my
articles, and amount of money I earned, number of books sold, compliments of
clients and of people who read my poetry.
When the numbers didn't add up to enough for me, I became discouraged
and withheld my gifts.
My goals of today are simpler and
freer—to be the best me I can be in my corner of the world. To love and give to my friends, family, and
people I meet in the course of my day what I have to give—my smile, my
laughter, my words, my time, my love.
This year I want to live more fully in this world, feeling all; its pain
and its glorious surprises. I want to
stop still and let its wonders fill me with awe. I want to give more compliments, give more hugs. I want to listen better—hear what is said in
and around the words that are spoken--and give more time to others. I want to do this as my small gift, given
freely without expectations of approval or gratitude. And when the cycle of depression comes, as it most certainly
will, I want to honor it, explore it and learn its lessons, knowing that the
more I open my heart, the more I am able to find the true gift of goodness and
love that lies in each of us and in our troubled world.
