I planted a garden. That was an amazing feat all by itself. I do not have a "green thumb." I once killed a cactus. Did you know they need water?
Just outside my home I came across a circular-shaped, herb garden. The only problem with herb gardens is a horrible lack of color. Herbs tend to be green. Green is a lovely color but by itself it's well.... green. I think if it could speak it would apologize. "I don't dance, I don't sing. I'm jus t g reen."
Before I could plant a garden, I first had to commit herbicide. It took me the better part of an afternoon working by the sweat of my brow, but out they came, and soon enough I was staring at a sea of soil.
"Plant one eighth inch deep and one half inch apart." the instructions read. That's too much work. I brushed away the topsoil and tossed the seeds like a farmer feeding chickens. I then covered the seeds and stood back to watch the miracle of life begin.
"Takes seven to nine weeks to sprout." SEVEN TO NINE WEEKS! I'd be standing there a long time. I've heard that plants like to be talked to so I prayed, I sang songs, I read aloud to my seeds, hoping against all hope that they would be encouraged to come out A LOT sooner, but alas, my defiant seeds would require seven weeks and not a moment less!
What the package doesn't tell you is that when they finally do come to life they resemble yet another herb. I almost pulled the thing out, but something inside me said, WO TONTO! Not so fast." So I prayed and sang more songs and waited. And waited. And waited. Then one morning it happened. I opened the door and there it stood. The Hallelujah chorus rang out in my head. One lowly flower with petals outstretched. "Here I am. Am I not the most beautiful sight you ever saw?" I immediately ran to re-read the package. It said nothing about a talking flower. It was a sight to see in all its simplistic glory. Deep purple outlined with white, standing tall against a terra firma tapestry. At last, the sweat of my brow had produced a gorgeous, flowering flora. I was tempted to invite all of my friends over, if only to boast over the fact that I got something to grow.
A season or two has past since that summer day, and looking back, what I realize is how much a garden reflects life. The soil is the human make up and each flowering plant, whether there be one or an orchestral arrangement, is the result of what's happening within the soil.
Some flowers are annual and pretty much blossom all year long, and others are perennials, and blossom only a t g iven times of the year when all elements are working together to favor the flowers growth. I bet you figured I didn't know that!
Sometimes a foreigner invades, and the flower is diseased and may die early, and only a careful and knowledgeable horticulturalist is able to save the flower from a premature death. Like that diseased flower, millions of people suffer from depression, an illness that little is known about, but the effects of the disease are pretty clear. Signs of fatigue and disinterest in everyday life are written all over the person's face, in his mannerisms and in his actions as he isolates and has little interest in anything.
One of the reasons so little is known about depression is because i t g rows deep within the "soil" and only the effects can be seen. The person suffering suffers very much alone, and even the most well meaning comments can often cause more pain.
I was diagnosed with depression only two years ago, and have been through many ups and downs in that short period of time. Depression is a silent stalker that creeps up and before you even know it, you are in the throws of it. But it doesn't have to be debilitating; in fact, it can be a blessing. For one thing, i t g ives you an excuse for napping.
I've been able to cut many a conversation short with the excuse that I needed to rest. "I'd love to continue this conversation but I just don't have the energy. Let me call you later." It's not a lie; as most of the time you don't have the energy. You are now on your way and what the other person doesn't know won't hurt him.
Depression also makes you a good listener since most of the time you have no desire to speak to anyone anyway. The Bible tells us to "Be quick to hear, slow to speak and slow to anger." I've been amazed at how my listening skills improve when I'm feeling low, and being slow to speak and slow to anger, makes everyone think you are a very caring person, when in fact you may be a real bugger when they aren't around.
Depression is a good conversation starter. "I have depression."
"Oh really. Genetic or clinical?" The next thing you know you're discussing favorite hobbies and past times. "I like to go for long walks when i t g ets bad."
"Me too. Let me take your number and we'll go walk together and maybe grab coffee afterwards." Your social life increases and things start looking up.
Having a good outlook toward depression is merely a matter of perspective. It's seeing the glass as half full. As humans we only wan t g ood things to happen to us, and our definition of good things is having plenty, never in want of anything, always being loved, feeling secure and the lis t g oes on. The "weeds" in the garden of our lives help us to appreciate the flowers. What we don't realize is that the weeds are there for a purpose. They get us out into the fresh air where we get exercise, and possibly meet our neighbors, who are out weeding as well.
If there were no weeds we would spend very little time gardening, since flowers can only be planted once, watered and pretty much left to themselves, but because there are weeds, there is a reason to spend time out of doors. Very few people go outside, take a deep breath and just stand there for lengthy periods of time. A garden gives you a reason to stay outside without appearing to be lost in your own back yard.
Depression is just another weed in the "garden of life." I can let the weeds overtake the garden, choking out everything else, or I can see it as an opportunity. For one thing it can be a real work out just staying ahead of it, staying involved in activities and pacing myself to not overdue it.
It helps me stay focused. This is the one time in my life I can be self absorbed and no one will deny me the "me" time. In fact, most people are happy that I'm am maintaining and no t g oing off the deep end. People will even ask you, "Are you taking care of you?" "Are you getting enough rest?"
Depression is educational. There are five thousand, two hundred and eighty feet in a mile, four pints equal a quart, and Pluto is like a gazillion miles, to the inch, away from the surface of Earth's atmosphere. Little bits of trivia I threw in for fun. What I have learned about depression is that there are four chemicals in the brain that affect the thinking processes of depressed people. When those chemicals are out of alignment, stuff starts to not make sense, feelings get out of whack and pretty soon you've got a chef salad of chaos going on that doesn't taste much like a salad. It tastes more like bad salad dressing.
There is very little that is worse than bad salad dressing, especially if you eat it thinking, "hmmm, this tastes weird," but you keep eating cause you're hungry, and in the not too distance future you're gonna taste it all over again, and then it really tastes bad. Depression is that bad salad dressing.
When those chemicals in the brain are in alignment with the rest of the universe, the sun comes out, the flowers grow, and you, the salad dressing, are bad, so you don' t g o there. But the trick to keeping brain chemicals in alignment with the rest of the universe is understanding what keeps them aligned in the first place. This is where i t g ets interesting.
I did a little homework and read up on the whole deal. As it turns out, the main two chemical culprits are serotonin and noradrenalain. They almost sound like rejects from a book of Greek goddesses. These guys are supposed to be dancing back and forth between transistors in the brain, and when they are in step, it's a regular ballroom up there. When they get out of step, oh baby, they're trippin' on toes and knocking each other down and the domino effect takes over.
Occasionally a garden needs to have the soil stirred. Don't ask me why, I don't know. But when the soil gets stirred the flowers are happy, the June bugs have a nice place to play and the bees are well, behaving. Sometimes the brain chemicals have to be stirred as well. They just need a little extra "umph" to kind of get things going again. I have discovered that staying away from really bad salad dressing and just a little exercise will help things to hum along quite nicely. It also helps to make an appointment with a doctor at some point as well. But when I lose focus, I forget to stir the "soil", and all too soon, things are well, out of focus.
It's easy to lose focus with all the stuff that's going on out there. What, with keeping up with the Seahawks during the fall, I just know that next year is their year, and watching the Superbowl because the quarterback for the Carolina Jaguars is really good looking, it's easy to lose sight of what really matters. What really matters is that for whatever reason, the Lord has blessed me with depression, yes I said blessed and maybe one day, I can pass on some of what I've learned to someone else who is hurting. That's what really matters. It's weeding through the garden so that when winter has breathed its last for the season, new flowers can spring forth.
A guy is walking along and falls in to a hole. He looks around for a way out but the walls are too high and he can' t get out. A doctor walks by and writes out a prescription and throws it down in to the hole. A moment later a priest walks by and writes out a prayer and throws it down. A regular guy walks by and jumps into the hole. The firs t g uy says, "What are you crazy? Now we're both stuck in here." The second guy says, "It's okay. I've been here before and I know the way out."
