These past couple of weeks I’ve been learning how to settle into the depression that’s made its home in me. I’ve been practicing dropping resistance to it. I’ve been learning how to walk the fine line between honoring my desire to do absolutely nothing and honoring the thoughts that say I should get up and go do things.

For the first time I’ve been finding moments when I love the depression; when I see and appreciate its lessons. There are moments when I feel caught under the surface and it feels torturous. But sometimes I find I’m able to stay on the surfboard, up above. During these moments it doesn’t feel like the depression is gone. It feels present and I’m simply alive with it. I see it and I let it be. I don’t confuse it for who I am. It’s like a very strict teacher who just happens to be in the room with me. I sit quietly and ask, “what are today’s lessons?” I practice listening to its silence.

A week ago I talked to a friend who lives a cluttered life. His mind is cluttered; his room is cluttered too. I suggested that if he wished to clean his mind, he might begin by cleaning his room. Perhaps the outward cleaning might stimulate the process that’ll begin an inward cleaning.

Yesterday as I laid in bed I looked around my room and realized my advice to him applied to me. My room was cluttered and dirty and my mind has been out of shape. Naturally, the thought arrived that I should clean my room! I also had the thought that I should simply lay in bed all day and do absolutely nothing. I had no energy and was feeling depressed. In the end I chose to give myself the freedom to do absolutely nothing. The complete freedom to be lazy! The freedom to lay in bed all day long.

And despite giving myself that gift, within an hour I found myself up and deep-cleaning and rearranging my room. The process took longer than normal. I took several breaks and had one long nap in the middle. But in the end I had a clean and better-arranged room. It’s been a joy to be in this space since; in this hibernatory nest.

It seems clear that the energy to clean came from surrendering to the thoughts that said “don’t do anything.” Had I resisted them, had I swirled all day in the storm of “you should” thoughts, I think I would have laid in bed all day long feeling miserable.

Surrendering gave birth to the action.

I’ve seen several posts online about the Fall and Halloween and how it’s a season of death and renewal, of lessons and the shedding of old skins. It’s a season for hard growth and looking inward. And I think this depression is right on schedule. I am learning to relinquish my resistance to it. I wish to be alive with the seasons, to honor and learn from them, to be excited for their arrival. I wish to move freely within all the cycles of life. I’m learning how to open my ears, how to open my eyes, how to open my heart.