Sunday, October 21, 2007


When Lulu Gets the Blues

It's been a tough week. I've fallen behind in work on my novel. I've been so dispirited that I haven't been entirely certain that it mattered whether I worked on it or not.

The lingering warm spell has me focused on global warming--the colors
muted here, rather than the screaming reds, oranges, and golds that filled mountainsides when I first moved to New England; the knowledge that certain corporate SOBs are just waiting for the polar ice cap to melt in order for them to move in and mine the minerals that lie beneath it, penguins and polar bears be damned; the fear I feel for folks who already live in the hot tropics whose lives may be altered even more than ours.

You can see where I've been.

Depression has always been a problem for me, and of course, world events are always there to stoke the fires, dig the pits. Several years ago I was propped up on 325 mg of Effexor a day. Since retirement and sobriety, I usually manage nicely on 75 mg. Usually.

Last night I was reading Jennifer Ackerman's wonderful book, Sex, Sleep, Eat, Drink, Dream: A Day in the Life of Your Body, and I remembered that I hadn't been getting enough exercise. So off Maddie-dog and I went to our favorite local hiking trail, Hurricane Wildlife Refuge.

We hiked in and made for the Monument Trail, one of three trails created by the YCC and the Boy Scouts. Sunlight poured
through the trees, and we strode along, pleased with the shush-shush sounds of our feet pushing through the fallen leaves. We roamed through the hardwood forest, then the soft wood firs, the latter opening up to a wide vale that reminded me of a big room with a brook running through, then back through a final stand of hardwood, down to the pond, and home.

On the way back down we passed a little meeting area, with logs laid out for benches... or pews. If it's a church, I'd like to be confirmed in it. Maddie kindly skirted a big, muddy area, the sort she often likes to roll in, and we made our way back to the parking area.

Our modest hike has brought me back to myself, although I am not by any means "over" my environmental concerns. I simply have immersed myself in what is worth saving and am hoping and working toward helping others to see that it is worth saving, too. Caving into depression isn't going to get me anywhere.

There's the church, folks. Let us pray. Actively!

I've only been to New England in the fall (several times) and I too am perplexed by these muted colors.
We are in trouble, ma'am. Deep trouble.
I will pray in your beautiful church. It is good to hear you are feeling better.
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