Skip to main content

Brigid.....meet Joy.....Joy....meet Brigid.



One of the first things I think I have to do is acknowledge that bad things do happen.  Just look at the news any day.  But by tempering any joy with a sense of foreboding doom you can't experience the true "Ka-POW" of ANY joy.  Whether it is a matter of I don't think I deserve to be happy (something I struggle with now while being off work ---and getting waves of feeling like why can't I just suck it up and get back at it) or I believe that being joyful is tempting fate to dump a truck load of misery on my doorstep--I am not sure.  Probably a bit of both working there. 

So assuage foreboding joy--I guess I have to slowly, cautiously invite Joy in--while employing lots of positive self talk.

I remember on my first day of the adult day treatment program, the recreation therapist rolled a cart full of pains and paintbrushes, sticker, markers, pots, boxes and other craft supplies into the room.  She explained the importance of recreation in recovery.  There were maybe 16 of us -- and for five of us it was our first day. had one hour for arts and crafts.  "Senior" patients rolled out a paint splattered tarp over the table and began to converge on the cart.  I was going to sit at a table with these strangers and do a craft for an hour ---really??

"You are never too old to have a happy childhood!  You need to think about what makes you happy and do that!"  I had no idea what made me happy other than being left alone.  Seriously, I could not think of a single thing (well snuggling my 8 year old but...) something just for me?  Blank stare....

So I painted a clay pot--blue and green--and added stickers--and put a clear coat over top.  The hour flew buy and I couldn't believe how much I had enjoyed painting.  I was always a bit crafty but Ka-POW--there it was---a moment of Joy.  No time for the foreboding...it just snuck up on me. 

Tapping into joy, without foreboding, means you are opening yourself up to emotions in general.  This is the tricky part because it opens you up to being vulnerable.  Fortunately, I never thought about how I might feel if I got paint on myself....if someone criticised my work.... I just painted. 

And what happened was, the other patients said they liked what I did, they thought I did a good job, and it was pretty.  I felt great!  Hmmmm Joy feeds Joy and it grows.  By the end, everyone was complimenting each others work, or efforts at least.  Woah.  This was new......

So painting connected to the artistic/crafty me that I had forgotten about.  One of the common signs of depression is when you stop doing what you love.  I loved being creative, I loved using my hand...and any item I have made whether if brings me joy or made me laugh has a story attached to it and was born from a passion to create. At the time, I definitely wanted more of that.

How can I bring more Joy into my life?  One way is through creative expression.  And while the finished product is good--the process of creating is even better.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Keeping Afloat in Darkness - When Robin Williams is Gone

A few weeks ago Robin Williams was everywhere you looked. People were desperate for details; to find the one thing that assured them that his situation was so different from theirs that they are safe; that it could never be them. But if you suffer from depression, the suicide of such a brilliant, successful, individual; part of our lives for so many years and responsible for so many laughs; looks like a leak in your boat. A friend asked me, "Ok but no one knows what the future holds.  Could he not see that?" For someone drowning in the dark spiral of depression, there is no future. There is only now. There is only nothing.  The boat is gone.  You are under. It is not about your spouse or your friends or your kids or career or fans or dogs or anything.  When the darkness squeezes it is all about now.  And now is nothing.  It is bleak and empty and so dark, you cannot see a bottom, or edges or surface ---just darkness. "Some...

Being Enough

I am grateful that the chapters in The Gifts of Imperfection are short.  Each one overflows with concepts that ask you to reach down to your very core and dig around a bit with a sharp object.  Sometimes you have to pull back and take a break.  Like at the dentist...when you have to put your hand up...they let you close your mouth for a minute....you stretch your jaw....rinse maybe.  "You ok to continue?" You lie back, take a breath, try to get comfortable, open up, look at the outline of the hand holding the drill backlit by that horrible light...and nod. Not to say it is all bad.  But this chapter on Exploring the Power of Love, Belonging, and Being Enough made me uncomfortable in my skin.  I squinted a lot.  Really, really trying to get at what she was saying without having to feel what she is saying....which is not the purpose.  So I had to read the chapter a few times.  Then I fiddled around on Facebook and Outlook to avoid sta...

Camping vs. Yellow-Orange Summer Sleep-away Haven

It has been made abundantly clear to me via my 15 year old step-son that setting up a tent in the backyard is not camping.  In fact, he goes so far as to 'air quote' camping each time he refers to my now obsession with sleeping in a tent in the backyard.  He claims camping occurs at a campsite, in a campground.   (I am sure anyone who hikes and sets up in the wilderness is now 'air quoting' his use of the word 'camping'.) It is all a matter of perspective I suppose.   Nevertheless, I get what he is saying.   So it seems to me that this now begs the question---what do you call it when you set up a tent in your back yard and sleep in it for a month? (minus the two days that there were extreme hail and thunderstorm warnings)  Bohemian backyarding?  Tenting?  Suburban Sleeping Out?  Lazy Stay-cay? Whatever it is called, I am forever in love with it.  Which is an amazing thing to me because: a) I am a light sleep...