Thursday, May 21, 2009


Welcome, beautiful traveler. I greet you a bit damp with sweat and in need of a shower.

I jogged tonight, instead of walking. That's because I got some crummy cholesterol results today -- my "good" cholesterol, the kind that's raised by exercise, was in the toilet, and my triglycerides had shot through the roof. So apparently just going out for a walk every night wasn't exercise enough.

I found it strangely harder to think while jogging than while walking. Maybe all the blood was going to my muscles and my heart instead of my brain. But that ended up being a good thing. Sometimes I think too much and it doesn't do me a lick of good, but when I back off and just zone out, things seem to settle into place.

The fact that I bothered to jog, and the jogging itself, and the zoning out while jogging, may have helped a little with my attitude, which has lately been unpleasantly fatalistic. I've been in a major "what's the point" mode for a while now, and although I've kept up with many of my activities, it's been a chore to do so and much less fulfilling that I would hope. 

But I jogged anyway. I jogged because, even if there seems to be little point at the moment, it would really suck to hit 50 or 55 and rediscover my zest for living and then keel over from a heart attack. Even worse would be having one of those heart attacks that leaves you disabled, from a blood clot or other complication. I jogged because I want the chance to enjoy life, even if there are big chunks of my life that I'm not enjoying right now.

I'd like to tell you that I came home feeling great -- riding a wave of revelation, ready to take on the world tomorrow. But I actually just came home feeling okay. And then I sat down and wrote out some notes on the next thing I need to do in my book, which had been eluding me for some time, and I felt okay about that too.

Now I've written a nice big post here for the first time in a long time, and I'm feeling okay about that as well.

And while "okay" may not be great, it does beat the heck out of "what's the point?"

Thank you, goddess of love, for a working heart and for small victories over nihilism.

Lovingly yours,
A devotee


Strumpet said...

This post is so much more than just okay.

You have no idea how much your blog means to me.

I do not get here as often as I would like to.

My own thoughts that tend to overpower my brain and therefore my life keep me from doing so many things that I should be doing in this life to fix the problems that I am thinking about in the first place.

Your blog ALWAYS soothes a beaten-down Strumpet, and for that alone, your posts, your words, your thoughts are so very much more than okay, Devo.

I hope you know that somewhere deep down. I truly hope that you do.

So, please take care of yourself.

Eat lots of sushi, because sushi is very good for you.

And I will always have the ginger to wrap around your wasabi.

xoxo, so much love to you

Devotee said...

Thanks, Strumpet.

And I hope you know that you are a piece of art.

Strumpet said...

Oh, people can put a can of soup on a table and call it art.


But, thank you. You just made me smile cos I don't feel that way at all today.

Today I just feel stupid.

You are always so positive, you always seem to have hope. At least, in your writing you do.

Depression is all about a loss of hope--of losing your hope in things and not knowing how to get it back. I do not see you as a depressive person either. But, I take it at your word that you are. Because, truly, our feelings are unique unto ourselves. I come here because your posts are always so full of hope. Maybe you haven't been posting as much, but even the 'okay' thing is hopeful. It's like a stepping stone to other things. I always read your posts and think, 'Man, I SO WISH I could THINK like that.' I tell myself I will leave here and think the way that you do, but my mind is so messed up that that never happens. It sucks. Cos the way that you think is beautiful to me.

Me? I just feel stupid. I just feel like it is stupid of me to ever hope for anything because I am always wrong in what I hope for. I feel like ...I don't even know. I am not in a good place today.

It's why I am home on a Friday night and not working.

I am in a way sucky place, too sucky of a place to be presentable to the public in any way, shape, or form.


Devotee said...

Well, Strumpet, let me tell you that you are no mere can of soup on a table -- although if I had you on a table, I could definitely see some art coming out of it ...

You're also not stupid, no matter how much you might feel that way. But depression IS stupid. It's irrational, and for most of us, it flies in the face of reality.

The majority of depressed people haven't been told they're dying of cancer. They haven't lost their whole family in a train wreck. They haven't seen their life's work destroyed by the ruthless takeover of a totalitarian government.

There are things that are worth getting depressed over, but most of us who are depressed have lives that are basically just fine.

That's one of the reasons that I write here in the way that I do: to remind myself that depression is a stupid response to my circumstances.

Sometimes it works better than others, but it always works to some degree, and so I should probably do more of it. As you've noticed, though, it's very hard to break out of depressive thinking, and it's even harder to stay out of it.

And that sucky place you've been in? I've been somewhere similar for a while now.

We should find a nice, sturdy table to make some wasabi and ginger soup on, and climb out of our sucky places together.

Be well, dear Strumpet.



Strumpet said...

Oh. My. God.

The smile on my face that you have placed there....DEFINITELY a work of art.


...that table thing sounds fantastic.



Devo, you're just rock-a-licious.

Devotee said...

Thank you very much.

Speaking of rock-a-licious, did you ever read my Trivett Wingo 55 from a couple of weeks back on the other blog? I was very happy with it, but nobody who commented got it (despite the fact that they all said they liked it).

Strumpet said...

I accept that challenge and will now go to read and see if I get it. Ha!