LIFE IS WAITING FOR YOU

 

I am you and you are me.

We are alone, but not alone. 

We are trapped by time, but also infinite.

Made of flesh but also stars.

This is a quote from Reasons to Stay Alive (2015) by British author Matt Haig (b.1975).  The book is part memoir, part mental health critique, part depression handbook.  The thought in the first line--no more than seven one-syllable words--is unifying and certain.  

I think of God's promise:  "I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you." John 14:18-20.   Poetically, the first two lines also echo Walt Whitman:  

I celebrate myself and sing myself, 

And what I assume you shall assume, 

For every atom belonging to me as good as belongs to you. 

  

Haig underwent a crisis of depression as a young man, as many do at any age, a time when bodies seem heavy, and thoughts mired.  We learned much about these feelings during the worst of the long pandemic, if not before.  It is a mood we fear for those we love and they for us.  For many it stems from grief.  Here is what he says to those so struggling:  

You are on another planet.  

No one understands what you are going through. 

 But actually, they do. 

 You don't think they do because the only reference point is yourself.  

You have never felt this way before, 

and the shock of the descent is traumatizing you, 

but others have been here. 

 You are in a dark, dark land with a population of millions.   

The description of depression as descent into "a dark, dark land" is nevertheless hopeful because we are "in a dark, dark land with a population of millions," others who understand, who have been there, who--like the author of these lines--have survived, and we will too. 

James Baldwin said, "You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read."  Yes, we might read any of the great writers or poets or we might read the Psalms. 

When I am sad my first comfort is always the Lord who shares my feelings with me and lifts me up and out--helps, saves, comforts and defends me.  He has been in this land with the population of millions.  He was, after all, crucified; and thought he was forsaken.  When we are down, life continues on its parallel course, waiting for us to rejoin.  Often what helps is concentrating on something transcendent:  a face we love, special words, the moon and the night sky.  Certain things for each of us, lift our heart.  In the face of what could be despair, to be calm is revolutionary. 

Peonies

One day is bad, but the next is better.  One week or even year is bad, but the next is better.  Beauty cleans the mind of hurts, even of devastations.  The beauty of God's creation, the trees, the stars, the ocean, art, music, literature, those who love us, the children we know . . . . The beauty of confession and forgiveness.  The beauty of hearing (or saying) "I'm so sorry.  I won't do it again."  Haig says, "Made of flesh but also stars."  That's us!

In peace, let us pray to the Lord.  Amen. 

 

 

"TURN SORROW INTO CREATIVITY, BEAUTY AND LOVE"

Bittersweet is a best-selling book by Susan Cain.  Her themes are speaking to me and may to you too. Perhaps you cry in movies, are moved by Shakespearean tragedies, cozy up on rainy days or enjoy melancholy music from Country to classic, Roy Orbison to Mahler (his Symphony No.6 in A minor is called dark and terrifying).   Barber's Adagio for Strings takes the movies The Elephant Man (1980), Platoon (1986) and Lorenzo's Oil (1992) to another level.  I'm listening to Albinoni's Adagio in G Minor as I write. 

In this blog we've discussed the "andness" of life.  Never is it one thing or another.  Always both.  We have survival fears even as we enjoy this greening spring.  We worry for our children even as we admire their growing independence. As threats grow, so does importance.  The shorter one's life, the more precious each day.  The dichotomies are many. 

Cain defines bittersweet as "a tendency to states of longing, poignancy and sorrow, an acute awareness of passing time and a curiously piercing joy at the beauty of the world...and the recognition that light and dark, birth and death--bitter and sweet--are forever paired."   

Many of us respond to sad music.  In "Annie's Song" by John Denver are the words "Let me die in your arms."  Because of something my young son said to his wife during his last weeks as a cancer patient, these are the most poignant words I know.  Sometimes I want to hear the song, sometimes I can't bear it.  

Even tragedy can be bittersweet.  It means that we have been blessed by something immeasurable that is now lost.  We loved and were loved, when the loss is greatest. We are not, as a character of Henry James discovers to his heartbreak in "The Beast in the Jungle," a person to whom nothing was destined to happen.  

No one avoids sorrow. In accepting it we learn that the place in which we suffer is the same place from which we care.  As we suffer our compassion grows and we do not dismiss the sorrow of others.  We scorn no one's tears, not least our own. Sorrow is a useful antidote to the oft-overdone advice to be tough, optimistic, and assertive.  And while we can't rid ourselves of pain, we can turn it into something else. We can take whatever it is that we do--write, act, study, dance, compose, innovate, teach, parent, design, plant, help, listen, give--and make it a creative offering.  The next time sorrow is my lot, I'm going to try.  

                                         In peace, Nina Naomi

WHAT TO DO WHEN YOU'RE SAD

Nothing Is Missing,
You Are Already Whole

The first thing to do when we're sad is to know that's OK.  Things happen that would make anyone sad.  When we're sad, it's for good reason. The second thing is not to fight it.  Fighting with our emotions takes energy and energy is one thing we don't have when we're sad.  But that doesn't mean we have to wallow.  We can move toward equilibrium.

Something that always helps is going outdoors. The weather doesn't matter. Rain, snow, a warm breeze or the sultriness of summer. Nature heals. This is proven.  If you're up to it, run if you're a runner or walk if you're not.  A sit or a lie-down under a tree is fine if stamina is low.  Just feeling the air is enough. You know how good turning your face to the sun feels?  Or savoring the warmth on your back? Or raising your face to the stars?  Today I walked out with Mr. Wiggles (aging black maltipoo) to see the rising sun and the pale last quarter moon was still high. The early morning's disorientation disappeared. 

If you're at the staying-in-my-pajamas stage of sadness, try a shower.  Turn your face to the water.  Let the spray pour over you. Turn round in the heat. Lather up and rinse, or just stand there. Then dry and cream yourself all over with a tender touch and put on clean clothes.  Stay comfy, whatever fits the season.  

Cry.  It's OK to cry in the shower.  It's OK to cry anywhere when we're sad.  Crying also is a proven help. Miraculously, tears shed stress hormones.   Crying releases endorphins, much like running does, and helps restore emotional balance.  It's cathartic, dulls pain, and helps us cope with grief.  Crying, if uncontrollable, also helps us decide when to seek professional help; it can be a handy yardstick. 

Talk to someone.  Being alone in our sadness is sometimes what we want.  People take energy.  But after a time, we'll need company; the loving pet is not enough.  Then we have to muster the courage to let a friend know, accept help.  During one of my worst times, I lacked all initiative.  If someone stopped by, I didn't offer them so much as a glass of water.  Then one day I answered the offer of help differently:  "Yes, please bring gallons of iced tea."  It was a start. 

The main thing about being sad, about any emotion really, is to accept it.  Happiness passes, but so does sadness.  That's what emotions do, they come and go.  They fade with time.  One replaces another.  In many ways, sadness is probably as good for us as any more pleasant emotion.  I'm sure there are griefs I would not have survived without the calmness my sad days brought.  There are decisions I may not have made if I hadn't taken sadness as a warning. Prayers I may not have prayed and a closeness to God that may have been delayed but for my sad feelings. 

Right now, Mr. Wiggles needs his second walk of the day.  It's time to go outdoors. It's time to bundle because our North Carolina shore is colder than it's been all season, an amazing turnaround for mid-March. Air sunny and crisp, the ocean is a bright Carribean blue. And if sadness comes, for whatever reason, as it sometimes does, let's each be ready to accept it and let it move on.                       In peace, Nina Naomi

HEALTHY ATTITUDES ( "LET GO OF SOMETHING HEAVY")

  

This is something I read:

Let go of something heavy.  Whatever your mountain is . . . fear, worry, doubt, or shame, it is far too weighty and wearing on your spirit . . . it is time to put it down.  Unburden yourself and imagine the wings that will unfold once [you are] free.  It is time to untether yourself and fly.  by Elle Harris at bellagrace@stampington.com

I've been carrying something too heavy this week.  I'm trying to let it go.  We all have mountains, another word for trouble.  Many times our mountains aren't tangible; they're emotions.  For me this week it's sadness.  In other posts (Healthy Attitudes, Part XIV) I've written about how mental illness affects a family.  It's a disease that hurts others.  It's a disease that can make its sufferers want to hurt others.  An unkind mystery to be sure.  Something I need--again--to turn over to God.  

In the same issue of Bella Grace where I saw the quote by Elle Harris, I found a writing prompt about a very different emotion than sadness--its opposite in fact: happiness.   Just a simple prompt:  "What does happiness look like?"  "What does happiness feel like?" And, "What does happiness sound like?"  I answered right off the bat.  

Happiness looks like my oldest grandson's smile.  It looks like my granddaughter walking in the door.  It looks like a clean house, a view of the ocean, and the trees out my bedroom window.  Happiness feels like my husband's arms around me, soft clothing, the love our daughter-in-law radiates, and when God is near.  Happiness sounds like the voice of my younger grandson when he picks up the phone (melodic, measured, pleased).  It sounds like my husband and me laughing.  It sounds like my teakettle, soaring music (Puccini, Andrea Bocelli, John Denver), and the whir of the overhead fan while we sleep.  There's so much more. 

These thoughts helped me let go of the feeling I was carrying.  Why should I spend (waste) my time (my life) with a burden both too heavy and unsolvable, at least by me?  

If you are holding on to fear, sadness, shame or whatever is crushing your spirit, it may be time to set it down. We may have to set it down more than once, but I bet we get better at doing that. 

A healthy attitude is not to let someone else's life (or death) ruin your life.  If they are kind they would not want that. It dishonors them. If they are not kind, you don't deserve that. It dishonors you.   

                                              In peace, Nina Naomi 

 

 

 

 

 

IMPEACHMENT--SAME SADNESS, DIFFERENT CAUSE

It's one of those mass-shooting days in America--same sadness, different cause.  The beginning of an impeachment inquiry into our President is like a funeral march, not a parade.  It's hard to be an American and not feel the tragedy unfolding. 

I know the readers of this blog are from across the world.   This week alone audience stats show readers outside the US living in Australia, India, Malaysia, Portugal and Sweden. Last month's readers included people living in Ukraine, Canada, France, Turkey and the United Arab Emirates.  So understandably some readers may not care all that much that the United States House of Representatives has begun its impeachment inquiry into President Donald Trump. After all, you logged on perhaps for some respite from the world's problems, and your own.  That's one reason I do. So . . . spoiler alert:  like "Another Week of Shootings" Post 8/4/19, some things are too much to ignore. 

I was alive when President Richard Nixon resigned before facing the House impeachment vote.  He had betrayed the country by his coverup of the break-in into the Democratic National Committee's headquarters at the Watergate complex in Washington, DC.  Both Republicans and Democrats were prepared to impeach him.  I was already a lawyer when President Bill Clinton faced impeachment for a lie under oath about his affair with Monica Lewinsky.  But yesterday when I read just the redacted transcript of the phone call between Trump and President of the Ukraine I actually cried.  Maybe because I studied Constitutional Law I saw the treason so clearly and it made me sad. 

Now I've read the whole intelligence officer whistle-blower complaint and listened to the live testimony of the Director of National Security.  President Trump blocked delivery of aid to Ukraine.  Then he phoned President Zelensky and asked him for "a favor":  to investigate  former Vice President Biden-- American citizen, member of the United States Senate and a rival presidential candidate.  He asked Zelensky to work with Trump's personal attorney and with our country's Attorney General in the investigation.  He is actively seeking foreign interference into the upcoming 2020 election.  Then, when the phone call was over, recognizing its implications, his White House attempted to "lock down" all records of the call. These facts have been admitted and confirmed.  Although the last few years have paved the way for this revelation, this reaches new levels.  As a country we are in for it. 


This is not a political blog.   Politically I am an Independent.  So was my mother, Nina Naomi--a US history teacher and an Independent voter.  Living simply, loving nature, staying in the present, being mindful of each day, nesting, keeping healthy attitudes, taking the time to live well--that is what this blog commits to.  But these few days are watersheds.  There will be more.  All of us will need to stand up and be counted.

As I wrote in the post about a recent week of mass shootings,  when we need a break from news or worry, daily chores or work, or our own activism,  then nature, mindfulness and other tools that restore us are still there.  There's much work to be done.  But for the next hour I'm going back to my own lovely scrapbooking and collage-making.  It's filled with sayings and quotations that hopefully will give me some perspective.  Here's one that helps when things are very very difficult:

The Best Thing to Hold Onto in Life is Each-other.

                                                                                            Nina Naomi

Illustration by Mia Charro

 

HEALTHY ATTITUDES (SELF-MARKETING )

Charlotte Day(www.calmmoment.com)

Question:   Is self-promotion a healthy way to cope with sadness?

First sadness.  I mean the kind of sadness that can become despair. The kind a parent might feel about their child who spends more time in the hospital than out.  Or a young person might feel who won't live to raise their child. Grief that comes by bayonet.    

Perhaps we cannot each think of those kind of sadnesses, but it is more likely that we can.  This week we have the horror of the shooting at the school in Florida.  Our flags again are at half-mast. 

Now coping.  Coping is accepting care from friends and family and even strangers.  What happens in hospital waiting rooms in the dark when strangers under blankets share their reasons for spending the night.  What happens when family comes every weekend, then begins to take time off work, and finally moves in.

What happens when friends bring food and offer rides and lie in bed with you to talk when you can't get up.  What happens when your father dies and you hold his dead hand and call your brother and he says a prayer over the phone for the three of you. 

Coping can also be something creative.  Carly Simon (b. 1945) wrote a song after her mother died:  "I'll wait for you no more like a daughter.  That part of our life together is over.  But I will wait for you forever like a river."  It's beautiful. I remember my mother when I play it.  

John Crowe Ransom (1888-1974) wrote an elegy when his friend's daughter died, "Bells for John Whiteside's Daughter." Joan Dideon (b. 1934) wrote The Year of Magical Thinking (2005) after her husband died and Blue Nights (2011) after the death of their daughter. 

All these creative endeavors are coping strategies.  We set up scholarships, begin foundations, plant memorial gardens, donate "in memory of," and find ways to incorporate our grief into a life that is still well-lived.  If we are the one facing death we do the same.  As a medical malpractice attorney I have seen this many times.  A young mother writes a diary for the son she won't raise, or secretes away years' worth of gifts for him.  

What has this to do with self-promotion?  Usually nothing. Usually our consolations do not involve promoting ourselves.  Until recently I had not seen marketing one's self in circumstances where we might not expect it. Now I have.  Quote: "Because I am sick I know the ten things sick people want to hear and the ten things they don't want to hear.  Buy my book to read more." Or, "Share my book on your web site for a chance to receive an autographed copy."  Followed by, "If you missed my interview--ah, what an opportunity--here is the link."  

When we face difficulties we must choose our way.  I knew the wife of a dying man who decided he would wear only cashmere.  Cashmere robes, blankets, sweaters, even pajamas.  He found comfort in these soft, expensive things.  His wife worried because they were too poor for luxuries. She wished he would find consolation in her and the children.

If one's health is tenuous, a success in another area of life may be of great comfort.  Everyone loves my song, or book, or painting, (or blog) may translate into everyone loves me.  Perhaps a solace when the flip side is uncertainty or what is worse: certainty.  

But still I wonder whether marketing one's personal struggles for commercial success or a modicum of fame is the healthiest consolation.  Not the writing itself, which is known to bring peace and clarity, but the marketing.  Could that be the antithesis of healthy?  Does wrapping the story in spirituality make it better or worse? 

I don't have the answer.  But I do have the question.