When I was younger, I embraced every passing mood as real and permanent. If I was in an upswing, I had zillions of ideas and enough energy to carry them all out.
So I thought.
In the early 1970s I started a leather craft business in Ithaca, designing all the products, cutting the leather for belts and handbags, selling at craft fairs, buying heavy equipment and operating it, making repairs, going to trade shows, dealing with sales reps, negotiating contracts, opening a retail outlet on Eddy Street, hiring and managing employees . . .
It makes me exhausted just writing about it.
When the business failed in the 1974 recession, I drank heavily and sank into a deep depression.
At that time I had very little self-knowledge. In fact, I had not yet been diagnosed as bipolar.
All I knew how to do in those days when depression hit was to wallow in the darkness until I could find a way to jumpstart my life again.
And so it went.
Now, through a regular practice of meditating every day, I get a chance to look at the workings of my mind. I see how resistant it is to being still, how much it avoids awareness. But I have those split seconds where I’m able to catch it—to stop the racing thoughts for a moment.
I take a breath and look into my heart. I see the pain. I see the avoidance.
I get to know me better.
The essence of mindfulness meditation—being aware of whatever is passing—knowing it is passing—letting it pass—is exactly what I need to better deal with my mood swings.
When I wake up in the morning feeling shitty and can’t figure out why, it helps to know that this too will pass. But more importantly, not to blame myself for it.
I am my own harshest judge.
When I was younger, I wanted to be better and better every day in every way—to mold my life into a perfect jewel. I thought that if I found the right formula and tried hard enough, I could succeed at it.
My mother always told us that we could do anything, be anything, and I believed her. Our shelves at home were filled with books on self-improvement and positive thinking.
My favorite was How to Live 24 Hours a Day. I interpreted that to mean, how to be an achiever 24 hours a day.
When I fell short, I got depressed.
And of course I fell short.
Achieving things is still my number one hobby. It’s part of who I am.
With insight, I also know that the achiever is not all that I am.
