Today I visited with a usually upbeat, out-of-town friend. Typically she tells me of the latest inspirational book she has read or of her attendance at a motivational seminar. During this phone conversation, though, she told me she feels like she has given and given to her friends and family, so much that she has nothing left to give. As she described her emotions, she specifically refused to call it "depression," almost as if to do so would be a failure.
Upon following several blogs over the past several months, I have noticed that some authors do not share the difficult or negative circumstances they encounter. I'm not suggesting that's bad or wrong. In fact, it's nice to know that I can surf over to specific sites for a guaranteed laugh, or at least a good chuckle. However, that's not me (or "I"--whatever the correct grammar may be).
I pencilled a letter to my out-of-town friend. Following is most of it:
"...I assume that in your profession--and life in general--positive thinking is very important, even expected [she is in sales]. Bookstore shelves are filled with self-help manuals that stress the power of positive thinking and promote the philosophy that what we think about we bring about. And I agree.
At the very same time, though, I think those philosophies and ideals leave a part of us hollow. They ignore our humanity, or at the very least they give me the disconcerted feeling that if I suffer a period of sadness, I must have character defect.
You know the verses from Ecclesiastes:
To everything there is a season
And a time to every purpose under the heaven...
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
A time to mourn, and a time to dance.
The truth is: I'm going through a season of weeping and mourning. I mourn my loss of mobility and I sometimes weep at the challenges Hannah presents on an almost daily basis. I know I haven't been in contact with you much lately, but frankly -- grief is a private and embarrassing thing for me and it's easier to hide here in my small town, behind my computer screen, than it is to show myself openly as I am right now.
I don't tell you this to solicit pity, though I'm aware of how pity-full I sound. Actually, I have hope, because all of the above verses are true. This is only a season, albeit an extended one. Just like the ice-damaged, barren trees and gray skies outside will soon all be greens and blues and visions of healing, so will I eventually experience a season of spring again--a time to laugh and to dance.
Well, maybe not dance.
Then again..."
3 comments:
Thanks for this post... we are going through some extended challenges with our son and this is a good reminder that 'this too shall pass' and he will meet and win against these challenges. But we have to dance too, even if to only laugh at ourselves. =)
Beautiful and touching post. You speak the truth in a very eloquent way. Thank you for sharing this with me. Hugs!
After my father died, I wrote so much about my grief. I don't know how people could stand to read it, but they did. Writing about it allowed me to find a way out of the fog. The grief remains, but I control it better.
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