Well, where has the time gone?

I’m still trying to figure out how it already November. Still testing every hypothesis on how time simply flew by. Still wondering how I let this blog sit idle for so long. I stepped away from The Happy Depressive in order to focus on my growth as a yoga teacher. When I realized how hard I pushed myself to teach X amount of classes in a week while also balancing a full-time gig, I soon found very little time to focus on what brings me joy.

To say I’m tired is an understatement, but after a work trip to Seattle and Portland I find myself cleansed of any residue left over from all stress leading up to the trip. I needed an honest reflection with just myself and traveling alone was the perfect way to do it. I needed to think about the next move, my path as a yogi and not just an instructor, the career move I made which, to me, doesn’t seem all that right anymore. I had to analyze The Happy Depressive not just as a blog but the person behind it.

Was I happy? Or, was I becoming just the depressive?

For a while, the wheels spun but produced nothing constructive. I was on the verge of another meltdown, rushing from one place to another and feeling guilty if I let just one hour of my day be totally open. But you know what’s great about going to therapy? You have all these tools in your pocket to help you cope. You realize the detriment of putting your body and mind through the ringer and the mental brakes grind you to a halt. You are then left to ask yourself, “What am I doing?”

And the biggest thing for me now is if it fulfills me. I recently re-took the Myers-Briggs and went from an INFJ to an ENFP. The word associated to an ENFP based on 16Personalities is The Campaigner, probably the most accurate description of who I am right now. One line in the description stood out to me though.

Don’t Lose That ‘Little Spark of Madness’

That single line resonated so deeply. That “spark” of madness I’d nurtured and tried cultivating into a wild fire was now being snuffed out. The fine line I’d walked between madness and ordinary curved more towards the latter. I felt that in the midst of trying to play it like a twenty-something professional I was also losing a key part of my identity, briefly pausing to consider what others would think of me if I decided to dive head first into something without thinking it through. I once did that with this blog, putting myself out there, baring a huge part of my soul to strangers and friends.

The last couple of months have been a lesson in self-study, or Svadhyayaas the Niyamas discuss. I studied my identities as a depressive, as a yogi, as a yoga instructor, a daughter, a partner, a friend. In this process I found that breaks from passion projects are necessary for the depressive, inevitable really. It allows us to come back stronger and with a clearer understanding of what is attainable.

I’ve allowed the battery to completely drain only to recharge and come back more in tune with what I’m capable of. Over the holidays, I will be giving this blog a massive reboot. A “cleaning house”, if you will. I have not been able to sit down and give myself fully to this space in which it deserves, in which readers deserve, and that fault is mine alone. I’m excited to lay out defined plans for this blog as a commit to being a better advocate within the mental health community. I’m feeling inspired to focus on the actual blogging and discussing depression in a more in-depth way. I’m also scared shitless, but I think all aspiring writers are.

Circling back to the yoga portion of this blog, I promised you all a series of yoga videos some time ago. That has not fallen off my agenda, but I realized I bit off more than I could handle, especially with teaching taking up a huge chunk of my free time. No excuses though. It’s coming online and I hope to start posting videos January 1.

I leave you with this though. Yesterday, I rode the train to work–a commute I sometimes take for granted when my eyes are glued to my iPhone. But I had the pleasure of sitting across from a woman meditating with what I assume are prayer beads. Eyes closed and lips moving ever so slightly, I studied her for several stops, watched her work her fingers over each bead while reciting something inaudible. She reached her destination before I reached mine, but I stared at her now-empty seat for a little longer. This woman was manifesting some energy or good vibes. She was literally taking the power within her into her own two hands and I thought, I can do the same…

So here’s to the madness that ensues. The glorious, brilliant sparks of genius rising up like a phoenix in the night sky. To transformation brought about by self-study. To the wild ones with even wilder imaginations. And to being able to hold it all in the palm of our hands.

 

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