Sunbathing in The Rain

In her book, Sunbathing in The Rain- Gwyneth Lewis writes about depression. She calls it a "cheerful book on depression". I am not a girl that would normally agree with that statement given my experience with the d-word. But she makes some really great points about depression being the body's way of letting you know you are too far gone to recover without turning inward. The endless distractions and chores and rescuing that you do to stay in control day after day are just not gonna cut it when you are depressed. Now, I do not believe she is talking about clinical depression here but the depression that comes when you are say, attempting to cope with a shattered heart. Clearly, you can see why I re-turned to this book for some thoughts.

She tells a story about ironing being the perfect thing to do when you are depressed. "It requires no creative input but it has its easy victories, makes you feel that you're making good, orderly progress in your life without the expenditure of too much energy." Now, I don't know about that as I HATE ironing. Loathe it. Don't do it. But I certainly would have said the same about gardening before being metaphorically punched in the gut. But I get her point. Sometimes you simply need simple. A simple task that requires only the minimum. Particularly, when your mind and heart and soul are constantly racing between your own demons and beasties to maintain some sanity. I would like to thank my weeds for allowing me the opportunity to wage that war. And I would like to thank YOU as I feel like I know everyone that reads my blog. (Maybe that isn't entirely true... How could I know my millions of readers? I didn't know that Bella's reputation was bi-coastal before this weekend and turns out that's true!)

When you are lost, the path you have always taken is easy. For me, that's to find something to do, be super-nanny (or waitress depending on the times), keep busy, busy, busy. But this time as I try to hold on to my self... I am finding the most comfort in stillness. It's a new thing for me. I think it is working. As my shrink says- sometimes the most powerful choice is silence. Not a choice I often make but I haven't been paying this woman for years to stop listening now. So, I am so thankful to be surrounded by people who love me enough to allow me this time. Who understand that grief is not measured in days but in healing. Who are angry and fierce in their love of me and my fragile-ness. I don't like feeling fragile. I don't like feeling powerless and wronged. Who does, really? But I like feeling loved even as I exhaust myself trying to grieve and not trip down the dangerous, hateful path of self loathing that is the devil I know. It is tiring and sleep and stillness are good. As is gardening. Who knows... maybe I need to give ironing a go?

I thought today would be harder. An anniversary that means nothing anymore. A celebration that will never be as I imagined. But I made it. One weed at a time. As I have made it since the beginning of this madness. I am proud of myself for honoring my need to be still and find my own way back. I have gone through several pairs of gardening gloves and each one is so exciting to me. I have the peppers and tomatoes and fine, fancy patio as evidence of my "easy victories". And even though I was alone... I was not. I had so many people sending love so that I could bandage what needed to be. So, thank you. Thank you. Thank you. If I can be thankful for the weeds, then I will be ready for the flowers that come, too. I can sunbathe in the rain.

"To find a place of rest and safety, no matter how fleeting it may be, no matter how illusory,

is to regain composure and locate bearings."

-Terry Tempest Williams