Depression

Dearest Aimee

Oh there is so much beauty and profound truth in what you say !!

Yes, it's so easy to get lost in thinking and talking about, listening to and writing about spirituality and yet not fully practice and live it.  Fixated with the finger, and forgetting to look at (and be) the exquisite moon.   All that spiritual content out there, existing only to point to what is already here, and yet so often obscuring it due to the mind's fixation on it.

Your depression has brought you such profound insights and opened you to such deep love.  How beautiful.

Depression is a regular part of the experience of being this form, and a while ago, I wrote for myself a list of the gifts it brings me (to read in my low periods).  I share it here in case it resonates.

• A practice in accepting, loving, being thankful for what feels unacceptable on the surface - and the deepening of Presence that this brings.  
• An opening to love. Often the flow of love intensifies during these periods, huge outpourings of it, from a heart that breaks open.
• A deepening of compassion for all those who suffer.
• Spiritual insight and revelation and a lifting of illusion that constant peace could never provide on its own.
• A chance to let go of and release old grief and repressed pain.
• Humility and complete surrender to what is and to life's unfolding.
• A realisation that who I Am is vast enough to contain every depression, every sorrow, every joy, every delight.

For me, the most important practice in these times is to be the space for my depression.  To bring deep awareness (and loving acceptance) to the physical sensations of it in the body and in so doing, withdraw attention from any accompanying thoughts.  I've learned NEVER to believe painful thoughts in a low state, as they are almost always distortions.  I've learned never to try to think my way out of a low mood.  

Awareness doesn't get depressed, but it has its role to play in this play of existence and I get a strong sense that it is something that Awareness wants to experience through the human form along with everything else.  After all, how meaningful would a state of constant bliss be without the experience of its opposite ?

Anyway, those are just some thoughts in case any of it resonates :)  

I send you such love and light.

G xxx

Letter to Eve (my therapist in London)

Dear Eve

This is an email out of the blue to say thank you for being the wonderful healer that you are.  Coming to see you back in 2002 was one of the best decisions I have ever made – and I will forever be thankful to you for helping me to put myself back on track.

If you’ll remember I came to see you at a very low ebb – out of work for many months and feeling close to despair.  I felt helpless and trapped and devoid of confidence - and I honestly feared I would never be happy again.  I realised I needed to see someone and I searched for counsellers on the web – and your name immediately appealed to me.  Eve Dolphin sounded like such a wonderful, friendly name!

The first time I met you I was feeling very low – but your smile made me feel much better.  I remember how you emanated such a warm, soul nourishing vibe and I felt good that I had someone to confide in.  You mentioned in our first meeting that you sensed I had positive energy and all I needed was to find a way to channel it and I would be fine – and I rember feeling hugely re-assured by that.  Sitting in the chair next to your lovely garden, with the sun shining through, and I felt  like maybe there was hope after all.  You encouraged me to talk about the things that I love to do – and to think outside the box, making me realise that I do not need to be constrained by tradition or the expectations of others (or myself!) in creating the life I want for myself.  That I am free to do what I dream, that I don’t need to chain myself to a mundane existence just because that is normal and expected of me.

It was thanks to you that I phoned up all those outdoor adventure companies, to find out if they were looking for a tour leader for the summer.  I wouldn’t have dreamed to do this – save for the sense of freedom and possibility that you instilled in me.  And when unexpected an opportunity came up, I was wracked with indecision and stress and pain, not knowing what to do – and again it was your support that helped me to summon the courage to go.

And of course, you know the rest.  It was the most fantastic, wonderful, awe inspiring brilliant time – 6 months in the middle east, leading young people on 5 week trips from Cairo to Istanbul -  a time of tremedous healing and I felt myself grow in confidence and spontaneity and gradually the scared me became confident and refreshed and exhilerated.  I felt free to let the real me out – a zany, funny, cheerful me – who I loved.  By the time I came back to the UK 6 months later, I felt like a different person.  And it was largely thanks to you.  If it hadn’t been for you I would never, never have gone…

Of course, it was tough coming back.  But I was married and Ally needed me with her.  She had been very accepting of me going ( I couldn’t ask for someone more supportive than her) – but understandably she needed her loved one to be present.  When I’d been back for a month or so, of course the Volvo opportunity came through – and again I was wracked with pain and indecision.  My confidence fell back – and I feared going back into a corporate world of responsibility and burden and stress.

And again, you were a saviour.  You reminded me that life was for exploring – and that by trying it out, I was not a captive -  just an adventurer exploring something new.   And you opened up my intuition too and courage through access to amazing spiritual experiences that unblocked fear and doubt and pain deep inside me.

So yet again, it was thanks to you and the sense of possibility that you instilled  that I decided to give it a go.  And again, I have been blessed.  For although Volvo is not the company I will work for for life, it was another example of the perfect thing at the right time.   Last year, I got to travel all over the world with Volvo – helping people to launch sites all through Europe, the US and South America.  I felt encouraged to be myself – zany, and positive and slightly alternative, and I grew enormously in confidence and for the first time (inconceivable), I actually enjoyed a conventional job.

This year, Ally and I have moved to Cambridge and I’m still working for Volvo, as their e-commerce manger for europe.  In the meantime, Ally and I have been accepted into Australia (we applied two years ago),  We plan to work for the rest of the year, then backpack round South America for 6 months (one of my biggest dreams) – and then settle down in australia.  All in all, things are going great – I’m keeping balanced, re-awakening old passions like movies and bird watching and travel, and growing tremendously spiritually too though meditation.

The tough times; the pain, the anguish - I can see now - were all a catalyst to new life and healing.  For it was thanks to those tough times that I got to meet you and try something different and get out out of my comfort zone.  And now I honestly feel like anything is possible.

So thank you Eve – you are an angel.  I often said I thought you were a true healer – and time has proved that to be so, so true for me. Whovever comes into your life is truly blessed.

Wishing you all life’s happiness…

Graeme Myburgh

PS – I really like your site, that’s how I found your email address!  I’ve just started blogging so if you want an update on what we’re up to, it’s all at http://graemex.blogspot.com/

Cheerio  / G

My Wound

This poem was inspired by the helplessness I felt with Investec managing my money badly (causing my wealth to seep away) but their being unconcerned because I was such a small client.  

My wound

It seeps away
like lifeblood
from a wound
my doctor raises his eyes and sighs
he doesn't give a shit
you are an effort his eyes say
i have more important patients than you
the more blood you spill the less you mean to me
why dont you die and go away
my wound hurts so
festering for so long
the blood seeps out,
sometimes just a trickle
other times a gush
but always out it flows
and with it, my life force
my confidence
my wealth
and the pain constricts around my chest
i look away, put my hand over my eyes
cannot watch the spilling wound
just close my eyes and wait
for the end of life
to take me away
or a miracle to happen.

Written 2003

Fear

Niggling fear
like a worm that wriggles, and hisses like a snake.
Shivers in my heart in the deep of the night.
Burgeoning.  Out of control.
Hot, writhing, rods in my bowels.
Want to hide - anywhere dark.
Away from this hell.
From the scrutiny that will come.
From the pressure -
the pressure that is being tightened like a vice around my skull.
Got to be perfect.
But I'm stupid!   Inferior.
They'll find out!  They'll know.
Oh, the pressure.  Time, so little time.
Round and round and round, no escape.
Got to prove I can. 
Squeeze it out.  Try harder.  Come on.
An agonised cry.  What is wrong with me!!!!
They will watch.  I feel so useless.  Helpless.
The vice tightens.
I feel my skull pressure.  I feel the bones crack.
I sense my hand as it tightens the screws.

Written: 1997

Out there

They laugh and joke out there;
the unselfconscious fun of the free;
their cheery voices mingle
and jovial banter flows.
All the time,  I lie in my hut
timid like a mouse
scared of being judged
as my mind judges  -
and hiding from the pressure
to entertain and impress
with confident wittiness.
Oh self imposed pressure -
Crack and Break!
Let me leap forth from my lonely hole
to sit and be with friends
relaxed and open and free
as me - just me - and no more.

Written: 1997

My first depression (aged 17)

I experienced my first depression at the age of 17 when I was in Std 9 at school.  

It started with a sudden attack of doubt as to whether I really wanted to study Zoology after I left school. It mushroomed from there and I suddenly found myself consumed with a deeply heavy and contracted feeling that I could't shake off. I was unable to experience pleasure of any kind.  I became very quiet and withdrawn, and mum asked me what was wrong but I said "nothing" as I had no ideas why I felt so awful.  There was no rational reason for me feeling this way.  I had no knowledge of depression and didn't realise that I was in the grips of it.

I forced myself to focus on my preparation for the coming exams (exams always being a source of real anxiety for me) although this was a real struggle.  But I persisted with my studies, day by day, almost obsessively, and slowly the depression lifted as I regained a sense of control and momentum. 

An obsessive compulsive phase I went through (aged 14 - 17)

When I was 14 (in Std 7 at school), I did my school work on a pine desk in my room that had a lift up lid. At some stage, for some reason, I put some bars of  Nordika soap into my desk which spread it's scent to all the books and stationery there.  Then, suddenly one day, I found myself inexplicably disgusted by the smell of the Norkika. I removed the offending soap, but the smell remained.  If I handled an item that was in my desk, I felt it was infected with the Nordika and I'd feel compelled to go wash my hands. This compulsion developed into an absolute  obsession.  I found myself washing my hands multiple times per day with soap, and then later with even stronger detergents. I felt more and more anxious about contamination by the dreaded Nordika soap. It made me feel absolutely helpless.  

I can't remember exactly how the obsession ended. I asked my parents if I could move rooms and this helped a bit but the obsession diminished very slowly. By the time I was 15, in a higher standard at school, the obsession was a little easier to manage but it persisted several years.  I didn't think I would ever get over it. It was a very difficult period of my life that co-incided with being emotionally bullied at school.  I've often wondered if the obsessive compulsive phase I went through was related to that.  In retrospect, it probably was.

My obsession with contamination reared it's head again, but to a lesser extent in Std 9 (aged 17) when I became revolted by the smell of the hamster urine in our outside room and I was wary of handling anything that I felt had been permeated by the smell.

Also, in Std 9, we used a microscope to study uni-celled organisms in pond water. I had a beaker of pond water in my room that I used for the study. I was suddenly revolted by it, leading to more obsessive behaviour.  This was a factor that played a part in precipitating my first bout of depression.

Periods of difficulty and renaissance

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