There’s a summer happening here, in realtime. Greece can wait. The UV is burning and the capital is empty. Everyone has fled the work ethic and dived into coastal holiday mode. I’ve had my share of joyous outpourings and returned to pluck at my canvas. Ah the music is sweet! But first I dropped into a moment of intense solitude, meeting New Year’s Eve with a sober stare and a promise of hanging out another time. I needed to think. Then I dropped into depression. I needed to process. On the third day I rose from these dreamless depths with curiosity. The world still existed post Donald Trump. It was bright and somewhat magical. Politics excepted.
Portals and passages says the woman on my screen.
I am listening to a talk on depression and spirituality… just because. I listen as I sit on my bed, knowing that the words are true but find it hard to budge myself from a dark internal process that has sucked up a few days of my life. It appears that depression causes atrophy in the cortex. Now that sounds pretty grim. Here I am ruminating in my own shit while simultaneously creating more of the fetid mess. I know I’m feeling crap but really, is it that bad? I hear the woman say that there is hope, even though the word has temporarily slipped from my vocabulary. I guess that means yes. But her talk is compelling so I lean toward the dulcet tones. Her next words resonate in my core. When spirituality is embraced, the cortex grows thick as tree. If depression is on one side of a door then spirituality is on the other.
Imagine the door as a metaphor for creativity. On one side of the creative process there is doubt, dislocation and damnation. But once the handle turns and the portal is open, there is another world… παράδεισος.
Photo: Jeni McMillan