Embrace the Joy
Thanks, Frank, I owe you one.
Frank Sinatra did some heavy lifting at my gym this morning when he showed up to pull me out of a serious funk.I’ve doing been a number on myself over the last few days, lurching into my crackpot hitlist of all the things I don’t like about myself.
I’m not sure what triggered this latest bout with the blues, but I suspect that it might be a simple case of The Bungee Effect, where I’m feeling good about life and my Jungian shadow self gets up out the darkest corner of my mind, roars “Oh, hell, no!” and yanks me back into the abyss.
I honestly believe I’ve been making progress in my battle with depression, but I’ve been working on my emotional highway to hell for so many years that misery has become the path of least resistance.
It started on Saturday when I joined one of my Meetup groups for the annual Gowanus Open Studios event in downtown Brooklyn, where artists and venues open their doors to the public to show the world what they’ve been creating.
The area is a former industrial zone around the Gowanus Canal and there are several of old factory buildings in the neighborhood that have been converted into art studios.
I’ve been on a pretty good socializing streak lately in my effort to break free of my Netflix and Rot routine that has me sitting in front of the widescreen holding the remote instead getting out of the house.
The MeetUp sounded like a good plan—and it was—but I had this dreary drum beat going on in my head about what I was doing with my life and how I should be home working on my many projects.
It got particularly bad on the Ninth Street elevated subway platform as I was waiting for the F train.
Luckily, I ignored that awful voice, met up with the group and had a fabulous time.
Screwball Lane
We spent a good portion of the day in just one of the factory monstrous buildings wandering from studio to studio where I met some very talented and friendly people.
The place was so big that the various crisscrossing hallways were given names like street signs. “Screwball” is the one that stands out in my mind for some odd reason.
After that, we piled into a bus going up Ninth Street where we walked around Prospect Park for a while to eat lunch and enjoy the beautiful weather.
I bailed at around 4:30 PM, picked up some Chinese food on the way home, and yes, it turned out to be a Netflix night (a truly awful movie, by the way) but only after I had made contact with other humans.
“Embrace the joy of simple pleasures this Saturday,” one of my fortunes said, which I think I did.
I went to bed satisfied, but the Mean Reds got up with me dark and early this morning and followed me to the gym like a rabid bloodhound.
It was still gnawing at me as I was slamming around the medicine and then Ol’ Blue Eyes started singing “Young at Heart.”
I’ve heard this song a thousand times before, but the timing was perfect today as I was able to find that it’s hard to be narrow of mind when you’re young at heart.
I got such a lift out of that tune that my shadow self promptly did an about face and retreated to the dank pit from whence it came.
I’m not beginning to suggest that I’m cured and will never think a dark thought ever again. I spent so much time and energy digging this whole that it’s going to take a lifetime to get the hell out of it.
One of my fortunes said the greatest risk in life is not taking one, and I see where the comfort zone risks your emotional and, ultimately, physical health.
I think my favorite fortune, however, was the one reading “allow your confidence to carry you through each day.”
As long I’ve got the Chairman of the Board helping me out, I can’t miss.
Comments
The day really was a success and I'm so happy I went. I am trying to get a better grip on my depressive moods.
Thanks so much for stopping by!