Posts Tagged ‘mental influence’
Feeling Sick
It occurs to me on occasion that my sense of comfort with the prospect of my death may be a result of so many years of living with depression. It is not a topic that people are generally comfortable about allowing their focus.
Frankly, I long ago learned through treatment of my depression that allowing myself to fantasize my death was something I must control, essentially eliminating it from my mental processes. I am happy to report that I am able to do that successfully, with impressive results.
Nonetheless, I sense the possibility that my years of considering the concept of my death have left me with a residual peace over the prospect of my eventual demise. I will point out, however, that it holds a dramatically different frame of reference when viewed from a healthy mindset.
Yesterday, I left work a little early because the pesky cold that has been ever so slowly gaining a foothold in my poor innocent body was sapping my interest in functioning. Upon reaching the sanctity of home, I walked directly into our bedroom and curled up under the bedspread, seeking nothing except warmth, darkness, and quiet.
I noticed a passing feeling of contentedness with the idea of falling into a permanent sleep. It’s remarkable, really, to imagine such a mental reaction to the very familiar symptoms of a common cold, but in that moment of fatigue, part of me was ready to leave everything behind for good.
The mind and body are an amazing, integrated system. Part of me was stoically expending energy to maintain a normal work-week routine, defying the uninvited consequences of biological warfare being waged in my cells. After several days of slowly intensifying symptoms, my incredibly strong mental yearning for absolute rest contributed in overwhelming my resolve.
I shall spend this day at home, resting, to rebuild my energies. No doubt, doing so will reclaim the enthusiastic zest for living to which I have grown accustomed in the days since I embarked on my path toward improved mental health.
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Embracing Impermanence
I have been encountering a recurring theme of late that is causing me to ponder my desire for order in my daily routines. Also, for constancy in the products for which I grow fond. Most times, I don’t want ‘new and improved.’ I just want more of what I had the first time.
There is a measuring cup in the kitchen that I have started to use every day, now that I am measuring portions of many foods, especially the all-too-sweet cereals I passionately love. I open the middle drawer, and there it is —most of the time.
If Cyndie has been baking, it could require a search.
I tend to experience greater pleasure when my developed methods glide seamlessly along like a well-conducted orchestral piece. If it runs into turbulence, I might alter my tactics to improve the flow. Basically, I look to simplify effort, probably toward something that would align closely to a style that could justifiably be viewed as lazy.
This probably explains why I am not big on the tasks involved with meal preparation.
It is occurring to me that I will probably be better served to work on honing my skills of adaptation to the constant variations that are a reality of life, instead of always pining to have things be where I expect to find them, clean and in good working order.
Sometimes, you discover that the tire is flat. People call in sick for their shift at work. It rains when it was forecast to be sunny. The manufacturer has discontinued a favorite tool/appliance/car/shoe/food/article of clothing.
The climate is proving to be in much greater flux than most people wanted to believe. Plants and animals go extinct. Millions of people get forced to flee their homeland, becoming a sea of immigrants.
Seriously, when wasn’t change a constant, despite what our minds have a tendency to perceive?
Maybe I can find a way to nurture that feeling of pleasure I usually get from orderly routines, to also manifest in the face of unanticipated complications. They are vivid examples the universe is alive and breathing, and I still am, too. It’s a reality that I am coming to believe is not worth fighting against. Conversely, I think learning to celebrate the aberrations should offer nothing but greater peace of mind.
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Cultivating Authenticity
In the everyday reality of each passing moment, we are constantly choosing, consciously or otherwise, our personal energy, which we project outward to every living being in our vicinity. For decades of my life, my energy was unconsciously that of a depressed individual. Sometimes it was encased within a facade of “I’m okay,” but the supposed ‘okay’ me was not whole.
In the years since I began managing my depression, I have continually discovered new levels of awareness about my mind and body. In the very normal fluctuating rates of change and growth, there are periods that stand out. The recent days of preparation for the visit from our friends, the Morales family, and the splendid excitement of our time together again after they arrived, have generated a terrific boost of energy for Cyndie and me.
Granted, we are all a bit drained from lack of sleep, due to all the fun we have had, but that is a recoverable circumstance. We are feeling a significant surge of progress toward crafting the framework of how we might best express the essence of the growth and learning we want to make available at Wintervale Ranch. Dunia and Marco Morales have helped immensely with inspiring this surge.
In the wee hours yesterday morning, Marco and their sons began the long day of travel, flying back to their home in Guatemala. Dunia is spending another week here to work with Cyndie and our horses, and help lead some training sessions.
When I pulled up the driveway yesterday after work, I spotted Cyndie and Dunia in the arena space, along with our neighbor, Rachael Walker, who was providing her counsel and guidance in getting the horses ready for Cyndie to begin riding again. For the first time since the horses arrived here, and 10-months after a hip replacement, Cyndie was back in the saddle.
With our horses as guides, I am discovering new insights about cultivating authenticity.
These feel like noteworthy milestones for us on this journey of creating Wintervale Ranch to become the place we have imagined.
Having written that, it comes to mind that I have a sense from the horses that they have been patiently allowing us to take all the time we needed to reach these milestones, while they have been ready and available all the while.
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Bad Vibes
Sometimes things fail, but why would failures necessarily come in clusters? I don’t have an answer for that right now. Maybe that is because I don’t feel as though I have sufficiently moved past a current cluster yet, and am not able to perceive it from a distanced perspective that will better reveal the complete situation.
Maybe it is just random happenings. I do allow for that possibility.
Yesterday morning I didn’t feel my best when I woke up. Other than a very noticeable headache, I couldn’t identify more than a general weakness and malaise. I considered the idea of willing myself to a healthier vibrancy with mind over body, and mustered a rudimentary effort toward that end. It got me out the door.
Other than a few moments of reward, noticing a visible difference in tree leaves popping just hours apart and pausing the car on our street to share a greeting with our neighbor driving by, the day turned into a series of unfortunate events.
I was mowing the labyrinth path with our reel mower and about halfway through the task, the handle of the mower broke. They sure don’t make things like they used to. Sure, it is probably lighter weight than mowers of old, but lighter tubing doesn’t hold up to normal use! I finished the job by wrestling the mower forward despite the handle being attached on only the left side.
Not feeling up to doing anything particularly strenuous, I decided to take the 4-wheeler out on our trails to establish tracks in the rapidly advancing undergrowth. I guess the worms haven’t completely taken over our forest yet.
Click-click-click-aack-ack-ack-ack was the only sound I got out of attempts to start it. It seems to me the battery is strong enough, and that a solenoid is failing, but I could be wrong. My brain just wasn’t up to the analysis, so no actual data was collected in my crude attempts to force it to work as designed. I’ll need to return to that when in a better state of mind.
I found the landscape pond was so low that the pump for the waterfall was partially exposed. I turned off the pump and inspected for leaks in the tubing or filter. Finding nothing, the likely alternative would be a leak in the lining, which appears to be a rubber fabric they laid over the dirt and then covered with rocks. A lot of rocks. Which will need to be removed to inspect the fabric.
This morning, I walked into the bathroom in the early light of dawn and pressed the rocker switch to turn off the night-light. I turn it off during the day because that little appliance runs so hot that it discolored the plastic cover around the bulb. A moment later, I noticed the light was on again and began to question my sanity.
Luckily, I hadn’t lost my mind. I had turned it off, but somehow the switch was shorting out and the bulb was back on again. I think it wants to try to burn down our house! I toggled the switch back and forth and the bulb stayed lit in every position.
This morning, that just doesn’t surprise me as much as it should. I’m not sure if it is possible to wield mind over matter to the extent I need at this point, but I am going to set my goals well within reach today and hope for success, health, and well-being to rule the day.
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Who Cares?
Life is pretty great when it involves staying home everyday and taking care of our animals, but there is no denying a sense of isolation that shows up on occasion. My world is horses, a dog, and occasionally a cat. Currently it is also snow and snow plowing, wood splitting, and walking our snow-packed trails. It is pretty idyllic.
I scan news headlines and feel far removed from everything I see. Issues like the struggles in Syria and Ukraine, Islamic State terrorists, Boko Haram mass kidnappings, epic snow storms in and around Boston, measles outbreaks, and million dollar lottery jackpots. If any ripples from the daily top news events are making it to the middle of our country onto our precious property, they are so dampened that I cannot detect them.
I live in the luxury of not needing to notice. At the same time, I can’t help being influenced by struggles in other places. Closer to home, there are ongoing difficulties that family and friends face which have some measure of influence on my psyche. That is something that I can more tangibly grasp and contribute my thoughts of love toward.
Most difficult for me is when the person I am closest to is heavily burdened by the ongoing challenges of her professional responsibilities. I think that is my Kryptonite.
One of my defense mechanisms for dealing with all the world’s ills is to not care. It seems like a poor choice of reaction, but it is a superficial method of saving myself. Deep down, I really do care, and am moved by the suffering of fellow human beings. What I mean by superficially not caring is that I move past the tough news without dwelling too long on any one issue.
When I have the strength to do battle for people or causes, I become active in those with which I am connected and which are within my reach to help. As a person living with depressive tendencies, I need to pay attention to maintain a healthy balance in my “reason to live” file. Feeling like you can do nothing to help others in this world is a dangerous mindset to allow. Even if my only contribution ends up being that I send love out into the world, that is significant for me. It reflects that I am healthy enough to make that choice.
A depressed person generally wouldn’t be so inclined.
Who cares? I do. Really, I do. Even if I pretend that I don’t.
I’m sending love.
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Reality Shoes
There is a challenge with being a positive person. It’s called, reality. Reality has two feet. Sometimes two left feet. Reality is the reason for the phrase, “waiting for the other shoe to drop.” The other shoe always does.
Now, if a positive person were somehow able to wield enough favorable influence over outcomes, the dropping of that other shoe of reality might always be a really great thing. In my experience, the world doesn’t work that way, so all an optimist can do is choose a way to find some good in whatever shows up when that other shoe lands.
The battle might be seen as a tug of war between the Pollyanna principle and depressive realism. As a former depressive living ‘in recovery’ —with optimism being my sobriety— I find myself needing to overcome an unconscious tendency to grab hold of gloomy reality when it steps into my life. I will grasp it a bit too tightly, which allows it to lead my astray, pulling me away from the fresh air of the glad game that I have been breathing.
Yesterday, while walking Delilah through the drainage ditch beside our fields, we found the horses grazing up on a high spot, exposed to the wind. It surprised me, because it wasn’t a particularly warm breeze, but there they were. We were moving slowly, as I allowed Delilah to ravenously explore to her heart’s desire. The horses showed interest in our arrival.
As we slowly made our way along the ditch, they followed at an unhurried pace, closing the distance to the fence. It’s not always clear whether one horse in particular is setting their course, or they all share the same interest when they move like this. I wanted to respond to their approach by doing the same, but the electric fence was on, so I didn’t.
Eventually, Delilah and I reached the end of the ditch by the road, where there is a gate. I leaned on the gate and paused. Hunter had traveled the farthest along with us, but it was Cayenne who then approached me at the fence. We shared a magical few minutes of intimacy there, sharing breath and mystical energy.
I don’t know why.
When Cyndie got home, late, after a hard day, at the end of her hard week, I got a dose of reality. I grabbed it tight. It woke me early in the darkness of hours that are best spent sleeping. I followed it as it led me where I know I don’t want to go. Then I thought of that experience with Cayenne.
It was real.
The other stuff, not so much.
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Reclaiming Routine
We are mostly back to our Wintervale routine again. The horses are grazing hay from the slow feeder boxes as if that is the way they have always done it. I’ve noticed that Dezirea and Legacy have no problem sharing a box and eating together, while Cayenne eats alone and Hunter appears the odd horse out. I don’t know whether she is forcing the situation or he is choosing this on his own. He eventually takes a turn, but waits for his opening.
For the time being, we are electing to let their herd behavior play out. Cyndie mentioned yesterday that she wants to get back out there as soon as her strength dictates to work on refining their manners. The horses have probably had a bit too much autonomy while she has been out of the game.
Yesterday we drove back to the cities (again) for her 6-week follow-up appointment with the surgeon who performed her hip replacement. I have a suspicion that he tells many of his patients this, but we are happy nonetheless that he said he wishes all his hip surgeries looked as “tight” as this one. He also seemed extremely pleased with the appearance of the healing incision.
Cyndie reported that she experienced the biggest boost from simply reading the physical therapy order written by the doctor’s assistant, which said, “Prognosis for full recovery: Excellent.“
The surgeon wants Cyndie to remain cautious for another 6 weeks to give her body every opportunity to grow around the artificial joint with a goal of avoiding any dislocations for a good 30 years on. She is cleared to drive and hopes to return to work on Monday. We spent time waiting at the Minnesota DMV to pick up the disability parking tag authorized by her doctor, only to learn we needed to get it from Wisconsin.
Then we were able to spend a bit more time waiting at the Wisconsin DMV office. They told her it was the craziest day with the most people they had ever served, and were short staff due to it being the day after a holiday. Luckily, and contrary to the all too frequently faced reality, Cyndie was greeted by an exceptionally pleasant and helpful clerk who shared these details while taking time to phone Cyndie’s doctor for information that was missing from the form.
Seriously! He didn’t send her off to fill out the form properly and come back at a later time. And at the end of a day that was their busiest ever.
Could this be the kind of benefit one experiences when they have sent love to those around them? We like to think so.
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Simple Project
We had a little excitement yesterday when a dog without a collar wandered onto our property while we were preparing to take down the temporary fence around our grazing pasture. Cyndie had driven the ATV down to the south side of our property and had Delilah roaming freely with her when a mellow old black lab wandered toward them.
Cyndie’s initial reaction was to grab Delilah’s collar in case our girl would behave aggressively toward an unknown guest infiltrating our property, but quickly caught herself. She wanted to avoid radiating her anxiety to either or both of the dogs. She took a breath and sent both dogs thoughts of loving kindness.
Delilah did fabulous. The visitor presented no signs of a threat, so the two dogs calmly performed the typical canine introduction of smelling butts and that was that. No big deal. The old lab came up near the barn and was checking the place out when I spotted a truck pull into our neighbor’s yard and turn around. The driver’s side window was down and the person had his arm out the window. Everything about it looked to me like a person looking for a dog.
Cyndie headed down our driveway toward the road, but the truck didn’t stop near our place and was out of sight when she got there. I last saw the dog headed back toward the direction he had arrived from, and as fast as the excitement started, it was over. We went back to work removing fence to clear the way for heavy machinery that will be creating a more defined drainage swale across that area of our field.
On the surface, it seems like a simple enough project. Take down the temporary fence, move it over to the north side of the driveway, set it back up there. In my mind, it seems as though Cyndie sees it as just that easy. I tend to feel like her antagonist and naysayer, as I am inclined to see all the hazards and difficulties inherent in the project.
- How will we handle the white woven fence tape when we take it off the posts? (We laid it back and forth in the ATV trailer. Needed to add the height extensions because it was overflowing the sides. It ended up working slick, except one moment of lapsed attention when Cyndie was driving over to the north side of the driveway and some of the tape spilled out the back and then got wrapped around a trailer wheel a few times.)
- How will we pull all the T-posts? (We used the 3-point lift on the diesel tractor.)
- How will we attach to the T-posts to pull them up? (I rigged up a chain and hooks.)
- How will we attach the post-pulling plate to the chain so it can be quickly released? (After several tries, came up with a spring-clip carabiner.)
- How will we get the horses in and out of this new grazing pasture? (We will use a gate and wood fence posts that were surplus material left by the previous owners.)
- How will we attach the gate to the posts? (Needed to drill a new hole in a fence post and move an old existing gate support to the dimensions of a short gate we chose to use.)
- How will we bury the posts? (We have a post-hole digger, but that phase is on hold until utility company marks where the electric lines are buried.)
We will need to rig up a system of supplying water to this remotely located pasture, but we have a plan for that. We don’t have a source of power to electrify the woven fence tape, but if that becomes a necessity, we can buy a portable system.
It is a simple enough project, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one detail after another that needs to be considered. It made for a full day, but we believe we now have everything in place to get this new grazing space horse-ready, once the buried utilities are all identified.
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Sad Loss
I have long been a big fan of Robin Williams. Upon learning that his death yesterday was being judged a suicide and he suffered from severe depression, I felt the urge to write about that fact. I came upon an online article at usatoday.com by Karen Weintraub and Dennis Kelly and decided it has everything I would like to have written.
That a “universally beloved” entertainer like Robin Williams could commit suicide “speaks to the power of psychiatric illness,” mental health experts say.
Please follow the link and read the excellent article they have written…
Suicide a risk even for beloved characters like Williams.
Suicide is, and always will be, a permanent solution to a temporary urge. I plotted my own. By grace, I never reached the point of attempting. I sought treatment, learned about the illness, and daily ever since, execute a plan to manage my depression.
I am very sad to learn that Robin Williams was unable to dispatch the illness that led him to make this fatal decision. I am sad for every person who experiences depression and is unable to dispel the urge to commit suicide. Depression is a treatable illness.
Depression is a mental illness, and the mind is one of the mightiest tools for defeating depression. The solution begins with simply seeking professional mental health assessment. Do. Not. Delay. Untreated depression is a dangerous weapon of self-destruction that is not to be disregarded. The power to fix is in our minds and can be unleashed by simply making a decision to claim that power and seek help.
And don’t forget to read the article I have linked, if you haven’t already. Thanks.
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Relative Something 