It’s a Process

Have you ever found yourself in a place that you didn’t quite recognize?  I’m not talking about a physical location.  I’m talking about a state of mind.  I’m talking about waking up and realizing that something feels not-quite-right.  Feeling sad, depressed, or on the edge and ready to fall.  And, quite frankly, not caring if you do.

For me, November of 2016 was the end of a slow downward spiral that I was beginning to think would never end.  Every day seeming lower than the day before.  Each day I silently hoped that the next day would bring relief and yet it did not.  Of course, I didn’t share this with anyone.  How could I? I didn’t understand it myself.   So, I just kept it inside.  But, of course, I smiled on the outside. 

Until Thanksgiving Day, when I felt I couldn’t wear a fake smile any longer.  It was just too exhausting to try.

A few months prior to this, I had called my old therapist and told her how I had been feeling.  Toward the end of our conversation, she asked if I had ever considered taking medication for depression.  I could almost see those stark and startling words hanging in the air.  Unsettling words. Words that I did not want to hear.  For me, medication was not an option.  I lied and said that I would think about it and then hung up the phone.  I felt more depressed than ever.  I knew there had to be a reason for the way I was feeling.  I didn’t believe that medication was going to make the reason go away.  What I wanted were answers.  I wanted to know the cause of my depression and I wanted a plan to make things better.  Let me also say that I am certain that medication can be very helpful for people in many different instances.  It just wasn’t the path I wanted to take.  Not if I could help it.

Not knowing how to stop the perpetual flow of sadness, I began to wonder what was going to happen to me next.  I felt that I couldn’t continue on my current path.  I didn’t want to continue at all.  Anywhere.  Anytime.  I wanted to give up.  On everything.  I knew that I was really in trouble when the thought occurred to me that if something drastic were to happen to me, not of my own accord, it wouldn’t be so bad. It might actually be a relief.  That state of mind is exactly where I found myself on Thanksgiving Day 2016.

Fortunately, my sister had come to visit on that particular holiday and I told her how utterly hopeless I felt.  She asked me if I had tried meditating yet. She had been meditating for a while and had even given me some different meditations to try in the past but I had never really given it a chance.  It sounded too hokey, too weird, too out-there, just plain silly, like a waste of time, and it probably wouldn’t work anyway.  I mean really, who does that? How in the world could something like that be helpful? 

However, at this point, I felt like I was out of options.  I was ready to give anything a try.  I had already hit rock bottom and I had no place to go but up.

This was also about the same time that my office had moved to downtown Atlanta.  Another thing adding to my sullen state.  I was riding the bus every day.  A forever journey each morning and each afternoon.  I dreaded the ride.  I hated the commute.  I disliked giving up my ability to come and go as I pleased.  I was not a happy camper.  But, definitely a camper with a lot of extra time on my hands.  At a minimum of two hours a day, oftentimes longer, it was the perfect opportunity to meditate.

So, I started meditating.  There’s an app for that you know?  Actually, there are lots of apps for that.  Each morning and each afternoon I boarded my bus and got situated.  I got out my headphones and I listened.  I listened to everything.  Literally everything.  Good and bad.  If it was bad, I moved on.  If it was good, I tagged it and listened to it again.  And again.  And again.  I sat on that bus and listened in early morning hours while it was still dark, while it rained, while the traffic crawled.  I listened in the afternoon while the sun beat through the window, while the bus broke down and while we waited in the heat.  I listened while people got on and off the bus, through good weather and bad weather, day in and day out. 

After some time, to my surprise, I started to smile a little.  When I listened to something that touched my heart, I started to feel a little more like me again.  I started to connect to myself.  Cliché as it sounds, I found myself.  Right there on the #490 bus headed south to Atlanta.  I found out who I was.  And I found out who I wasn’t.  Who I did and did not want to be.  My likes and dislikes.  And several surprises along the way. 

I started making conscious decisions about how I viewed myself and how I viewed others.  Slowly, very slowly, these small changes started to occur.  I dropped out of social media and anything that took my focus away from improving myself.  I listened only to podcasts.  First radical and motivational.  Then spiritual and more knowledge-based.  I was searching for inspiration, peace, and identity. I listened to Tony Robbins, Oprah Winfrey, Martin Luther King, Brene Brown, Wayne Dwyer, and countless others.  Some good, some not so good but anything and everything I could get my hands on.  Nothing was out of reach and I couldn’t get enough information.

Eventually, I started to figure out which voice in this crowded field of meditation and podcasting resonated with me.  Who made sense to me and inspired me.  What made me feel better. And then I found more of that person or that genre and kept on listening. I regularly forwarded these posts and podcasts to my family and friends.

It’s a process. And I am still spending those spare hours listening and learning.  Taking notes.  Praying.  Seeking.  It’s been an incredible change in my life and the change is still taking place.  I feel so much better.  So. Much. Better.  It’s almost like a miracle.  No, wait a minute, it is a miracle.   I feel like I am on the edge again but this time on the edge of something incredible.  Something spectacular.  I feel as if I jumped off the edge now, I would fly.  It’s hard to believe, isn’t it?  Of course, it is.  Sometimes it’s still hard for me to believe.  And, yet, I do.

There is so much more to say about this journey, so many twists and turns.  So many things I have learned and I am only getting started.  I never imagined or would ever think this would have been possible.  I am so incredibly thankful that I started this process.  And I keep learning new things every day.  Now I look forward to tomorrow just to see what is going to happen next. 

I share this story because I think it is shared by countless others.  I share it because I have to.  And, I believe after all this searching it’s time to be authentic.  If I can walk this path, you can too.  Start small.  Meditate.  Find what resonates with you.  Trust your intuition.  There is not one path but many.

I’m not here to tell you that this journey is easy because it’s often hard. But anything worthwhile is going to be hard.  I won’t tell you that it will happen overnight because it will take time.  But time is going to pass either way.    I will tell you that it is a journey worth taking.  It is life-changing.  And, once you start the process, you will be amazed at how it will fill you with faith, hope, and love. Love for life and love for others. But most of all, love for yourself. And once you find love for yourself you will also find that is where the real journey begins.