Be Happy (or Manic Monday, past)

Just Another Manic Monday. Don’t Worry, Be Happy Now.

I’ve mentioned, here and there, my wrestlings with depression. I say wrestlings knowing darn well that I’m no Jacob, and my adversary is no angel. But I kinda wish I were a warrioress of biblical proportions, with long, lean muscles, indomitable red braids, and a stern, penetrating gaze. And I really, really wish a more angelic depression would wipe its brow, sigh, and say (preferably no later than this coming Friday), “Yeah, you bested me. I’m done for. Wasn’t sure you could, wow, who knew. Well. Here’s a ladder. So you can–you know–swing from a star, babe. Carry moonbeams home in a jar.”

I don’t have brilliant, wise things to say today about battling depression.

I don’t want to explain why I wake up feeling like someone just ran over my pet kitten (to use my daughter’s words)– Mostly because I’m not sure I know (though I do have theories). While it doesn’t seem fair at all, it happens. And I cope. In some ways, I guess I’m grateful that I have to cope…I am urgently motivated to create, since creativity helps keep my demons at bay. So does running; so do mean green smoothies. So does seeking out and relishing connections.

Yesterday (Monday) dawned with boundless opportunities and clear, sunshiny skies. In my studio/treasury, I had piles of thrifted clothing waiting to be refashioned. Running outside, the snow capped Rocky Mountains (Ben Lomond in particular) offered themselves as my personal comfort vista, love letters from God. The road lent a soft shoulder, thawed and not too muddy, to my feet and knees. My sister called. I love it when any of my sisters call.

And yet, it was a hard day. Maurya is terribly unhappy lately, and I am haunted with the suspicion that as a longtime resident of her mother’s house, she inherited her mother’s cumbersome dark angel (it’s oddly comforting to speak about myself in third person here).

Today Monday is well behind me. The tumbling to the skies pile of refashion fodder awaits. I am grateful that despite the mangled kitten grief that nestled under my sternum yesterday (and honestly, today a bit too), I am still able to savor snippets of sweetness. Maurya and I contemplated fabric for a coat together, settling instead on irrelevant orange and green buttons, a book of writing prompts, and late lunch at Zuppas, where we shared dessert. Nora and I read Skippyjohn Jones together (Skippyjohn, a Siamese kitten with a Southern Belle mama, has yearnings to live his life as a Chihuahua: El Skippito Friskito poochito). Finally, Michaelyn stopped by so we could all go to the movies together. I took in the breathtaking “Life of Pi” with my whole, entire (!) family at our favorite cheap seats theater. Ezra admitted he cried…as a matter of fact, all of the kids were eager to recount their favorite crying scenes. See it! It is beautiful!

Here’s Some of my Manic Monday Don’t Worry Be Happy Bright Spots:

Lunch with Maurya

Proof that Winter is Waning (this snowman is now a small heap of snow in my neighbor’s yard…not quite as photogenic anymore)

Button, button, who’s got the button?

Ran across this Halloween photo from last fall, and smiled at my fairy child who has since lost her front teeth.

My darling goats, before their coats started looking late winter. Even with their late winter coats, they are my cloven-hoofed darlings.

Ez the pez, your depth and breadth are a lovely mystery to me

Found a pony painting in the buffet drawer (don’t ask). Meisha painted it long ago…I love it. Which may be why it was in the buffet drawer, with other random but uncatalogued treasures.

Well well well what have we here? What shall I do with you, my pretties? I Love refashion fodder.

My favorite shoes. As you can tell. I’ve since cut off the fray…not that it helped much.  Still.  I might as well have a puppy on a leash when I wear them:  complete strangers (even little girls) stop and stare and have to tell me how cute my shoes are. What is not to love about that?