A Year Later: Exciting New Developments

 A year is a long time to let a blog sit idle and languish in a state of neglect. The smallest, simplest tasks, those like blogging, lose all draw and seem like impossible millstones to carry around when depression enters the picture.

Last year, as we all know, was terrible. Pile lingering issues on top of pandemic woes and you get a recipe for major breakdowns. It happened to me. Took me out completely. To the point that I finally realized I couldn't "fix" it on my own. I got help. And that brings me to the first exciting development. 

Dopamine blockers are amazing! Everyone needs this stuff. My counselor advised meds thirty minutes into our first session together. So my doc put me on Lexapro. This time last year I never would've admitted that in a public space. But I have zero shame about it. In fact, I'm proud of myself for taking the step. It was more necessary than I realized. 

Both the counselor and doctor said I wouldn't really notice the pill taking effect for a couple of weeks.

Seriously? Greeeeeeat, I thought. Two weeks of hell while this builds in my system, and I can't even drink liquor to dampen the horribleness.

BUT! Thank God, that's not what happened. I took my first dose right before bed -- and woke up in the night feeling like I was floating. The effects were immediate! My poor brain, scored raw by torturous thought processes, felt as if it was swaddled in a cozy silk cocoon. Goodbye depression, goodbye anxiety.

So, it's three months later, and I feel recovered a enough to give a damn about blogging. Hurray!

To spread out the positive and keep things brief, I'll shout out about the other exciting new developments in later posts.

Breaking Free...

For National Poetry Month, a poem that reminds me of the power of the mind, of the inner self, of the ability to travel mentally, when I am trapped inside my house in this season of isolation:

"The Poem that Took the Place of a Mountain"
by Wallace Stevens


There it was, word for word,
The poem that took the place of a mountain.

He breathed its oxygen,
Even when the book lay turned in the dust of his table.

It reminded him how he had needed
A place to go to in his own direction,

How he had recomposed the pines,
Shifted the rocks and picked his way among clouds,

For the outlook that would be right,
Where he would be complete in an unexplained completion:

The exact rock where his inexactnesses
Would discover, at last, the view toward which they had edged,

Where he could lie and, gazing down at the sea,
Recognize his unique and solitary home.

In Solitude...

I suppose quarantine is a good excuse to take care of the undone things:  fixing the drippy faucet, planting that herb garden, remembering that one has a talent with a paintbrush or a typewriter, knocking out a few volumes on the to-read list ... maybe actually getting some rest.

Reflect, recenter, re-purpose.

Celebrating Haiku

In honor of National Poetry Month ... the haiku. The poem perfect for today's short attention span.

A definition we probably remember from lit class:

Haiku = "A haiku is an unrhymed Japanese poetic form that consists of 17 syllables arranged in three lines containing five, seven, and five syllables, respectively. A haiku expresses much and suggests more in the fewest possible words."

Some examples:

In Times of Trouble

As tempting as it is to hunker down and hoard the necessities while waiting for the all-clear to sound, let us not neglect kindness, compassion, and generosity. A squirrel hoards for winter, but if we were meant to behave like squirrels, we'd still be living in trees. Remembering our humanity in a time of fear and extending compassion in spite of instinct is what elevates us above rodents fleeing a sinking ship.

National Poetry Month: A Poem for Spring

"Springtime Near Vetheuil" by Monet

“LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING”

By William Wordsworth

I heard a thousand blended notes,

While in a grove I sate reclined,

In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts

Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link

The human soul that through me ran;

And much it grieved my heart to think

What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,

The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;

And ’tis my faith that every flower

Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,

Their thoughts I cannot measure:—

But the least motion which they made

It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,

To catch the breezy air;

And I must think, do all I can,

That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,

If such be Nature’s holy plan,

Have I not reason to lament

What man has made of man?

More To Life

In this season of fear and isolation, may we take the time to breathe, to take stock, and to appreciate our loved ones. Being forced to re-prioritize a few things may not be a bad thing.