Tuesday, June 29, 2010

The dance

My last post only went an inch deep into what I was feeling. For the past month, I have been struggling mightily with the sucking vortex of depression. It has been hanging like a leaden cloud over me, and I have been trying to espcape it. I have been two steps ahead of it, if that. Wily Coyote and the Roadrunner have nothing on me and my depression. Beep beep.

Last week, my body started showing signs of this marathon of psychological running I was doing. Stomachaches, headaches, a general feeling of fatigue. Being able to lie down and sleep at any moment of the day. Being awakened at night and not being able to return to sleep. Thoughts that are running, running, running.

This is not new. I have always battled depression. I have always been Eyeore. I have tried with herculean effort to push the dark away and let in the light. And for the past few years, it has worked.

But this last month has been hard. If I had to pinpoint a reason, I could not. My father's hospitialization began it all, yes, but then along with the anger from that situation comes the spiral of thoughts...all too maudlin and melancoly to record here.

And the past two weeks, the longing for someone to care for me has been wrenching. The need for a mother, for memories of a mother, for a tangible hand to hold or somebody who is biologically chained to me, and therefore HAS to listen to my trouble has been overwhelming. I don't ask for help with my sadness or pain, because I want to be neither pitied or to burden anyone else with this mess I am.

Getting off the plane here in StMaarten, I heard a voice clear as a bell speak in my mind. "Let it all go, now. Be HERE, in this place. Put pain behind you. Enjoy."

And I felt that voice into my toes. This has always been difficult for me. I go through life with a running list in my head of what needs to be done. I am always on the hunt for what it is in me that needs to be fixed or uprooted. My most profound prayer to God, te one indured with the most meaning and emotion, is "Fix me, please."

So to just be? Mightaswell ask Michaelangelo to fingerpaint. I have made busy-ness and self improvement my Sistine Chapel, friends. A monument that screams "HEY WORLD, I AM TOTALLY EFFED UP."

But here I am. As I write this, Sam lies net to me on a big king sized bed. His lips move, nuring in his sleep, or as my in-laws say "eating rice with the angels". I can see the bay with it's splendid colors right outside the doorway. The light flashes silver, turqiouse, blue, green. Boats lie moored, swinging back and forth together like lovers. Palm trees graze just the bottom of our balcony. I can hear children calling, laughing, from the pool below.

The first night we were here, my mother in law made me bascilla and roz (peas and rice), just because I love it. She served it to me without a word. No boasting. No calling attention to it. Just put it on my plate with a smile. And in my mind the voice whispered "THIS is love." And I FELT it. I ate, and was nourished, body and soul.

My mother in law makes me tea, because she knows I love it. She asks me, everytime, how much milk and how much sugar. She wants me to know that she WANTS to do this for me, to give this to me. She wants me to be nourished. She wants me to be peaceful and know that I am cared for. And in my mind the voice says "You have a mother."

My daughter will only know one grandfather in her life. The idea used to upset me- but just now, as I watched Lily sit on her Gidu's lap and talk to him, taking his hat off, putting it on, again and again...the voice said "It is enough for her. This one man, this one grandfather. It is enough".

And so here it is- God chose every aspect of my life. He chose my childhood, and he chose my adulthood. He chose my pain and he chose my joy. He had laid it out before me. I need only walk through it, relying on Him to know more than I know. I need to remeber what was before, because it is important. I need to remember the valley, and the darkness, the tears and the lonliness...because they are vital to who I am. But I also need to open my eyes to the joy. To the people He has placed, lovingly and with great care, into my life.

I am like the water here. I am changing. The tide comes in, and pulls out what is no longer useful. The tide returns, bring new life and vitality.

I may dance with depression again one day- after all, biology is biology. But in those times I can remember THIS time, when my eyes were open, when I saw clearly.

I have a family. I have a mother, and a father. I was not born to them, I was brought to them. They were a gift to me. There is no darkness that can diminish this blessing.