This has not been an easy week for me. Heavy, dark emotions have been rising to the surface and I found myself zoning out on TV and other distractions. I mentioned earlier that I have had bouts of depression, and the truth is I have had them most of my adult life. Usually I either stay busy to keep them at bay or zone out at I earlier described. This week, however, I honestly became quite fed up with the depression and started talking to my stove (yes, my stove) about how I felt about it insinuating itself into my life -- even (and especially!) when things were going well.
I cried and yelled at my stove as I cooked my dinner of green curried vegetables, as the waves of bitterness and disappointment at still having to dealt with this heavy energy that seemed to push against every thing I attempt to do rolled over me. I drank a good glass of home made wild persimmon wine and eyed the cake that had been given to me at work. I self-medicated for sure, but it was a conscious decision and I tried to go high-quality.
Well now, asking for help is not an easy thing for me to do. After all, I want at all times to appear competent, confident, and wise. Yelling at your stove and sobbing into your wine -- even if it is home mad wild persimmon wine, does not scream competent! But, one of the things I put on my Soul Collage was a picture that represented me forging new, healthy relationships with women. So now it was time for me to put up or shut up.
Today's execise is about envisioning yourself in a future filled with your heart's desires. I have to admit I feel a bit challened by this exercise today with the daily reports of the impending oil slick coming ashore. I took a dive down to the beach and walked out to the shoreline to see if I could find any evidence of tar balls. And, while I found none, I did find the water to be as thick and green as pea soup from algae and seaweed. I don't think I have ever seen the algae that thick.
I sat on the sand for a while and looked out into the ocean and sent out love and healing. But the beach was unusually still and, at first I the only wildlife I saw was a few pigeons and some terns, who have a protected nesting area nearby. I couldn't shake the feeling of death in the air. Eventually, I saw a single osprey circle overhead and dive into the sea, but came it up empty. I watched him circle over the beach and fly back toward the rising sun. I sent him love and protection. A little while later a lone, tattered-looking seagull also flew overhead and down the beach toward the sunrise. I felt a tiny ray of hope from these lonely creatures.
I will check in later with the further results of today's exercise.