My Depression Mindset is Defeated By A Tree

 B"H

Once upon a time, I believed that living an authentic life meant living from a place of inspiration.  If only I didn't have depression and anxiety, I could be inspired enough to live my life like it mattered.  Since I wasn't inspired to do it, certain things like showing up as myself, and advocating for myself, went by the wayside.  My feelings ran opposite to those actions.  And the authentic me was manifesting through my feelings, right?

Feelings have been important to me.  Looking at a tree, I find so much meaning when I feel the gladness brought on by the light in its leaves, the lizard on its bark, and the wildflower nestled between its roots.  Such a feeling of wholeness, beauty,  and unity -- surely this must be the nature of reality!

With this mindset, I naturally looked upon those things that did not spark inspiration as less alive, less meaningful, less worthwhile.  And this created many conundrums in my life.  I am inspired by a flower, but not by digging out the clay to plant it.  I am soothed by a neat tidy bedroom, but not by doing the laundry.  I feel competent when I have enough money, but dread the day's work.

During my intensive depression treatment, I learned about the concept of behavioral activation.  The idea is that sometimes, you have to counter depression by proving it wrong.  Depression says that I can't have fun, depression says I can't accomplish anything.  Depression says that lack of inspiration equals lack of authenticity and meaning.  

By choosing to do something anyway, I prove this mindset wrong.  I begin to change my bank of life experiences.  I chip away at the perception that I'm too depressed to do anything.  I start to see that less inspired accomplishments do make a difference (hello, dishes).  But this means doing things that I may not feel like doing in the moment.

To my surprise, I found that my inspiration was a poor predictor of how much gratification I would feel from my activities.  I can do something that I don't feel like doing, but feel better afterwards.  My even bigger discovery came with repeating the things I'm not inspired to do.  As I have repeated chores that need to be done daily, and prayers that I have the opportunity to say daily,  the difficulty of doing these things has gone down.  And I have begun to grow something that I have long sought but never found in the realm of inspiration: a personal feeling of stability.  

When I look at that tree again, I am reminded that the growing part of the tree is actually just a thin layer under its bark.  Much of its bulk is sapwood, which transports nutrients to be made into sugars to be used in growth and maintenance.  And a small inner core of the tree is heartwood, which is technically dead, but gives the tree much strength.

So too, only a small layer of my life is direct inspiration.  Much more of it is being engaged in the activities necessary to support life.  And some parts may be pure, thoughtless habit.  But the right habits are a strength.