Today, I Choose Happy

On Dec. 10, 2007, I awoke from my sleep faced with a well known dynamic: things had not gone as I'd expected, financially, and I began to feel myself on the precipice of an all-too familiar abyss that, should I have chosen to fall, very possibly could have plunged me once again into the depth of winter depression.

Some brilliant psychologist coined the term SAD, or Season Affective Disorder , in an attempt to categorize a natural chemically organic phenomenon; the tendency for homo sapiens to seek the inner cave when it's dark and cold outside in the season of winter. At least, like me, for humans in the northern hemisphere. I started noticing about five years ago that what my soul sought in winter was retreat, to go within, introspect and more than anything, REST.

I talked a good game for several years about doing that; going into my natural desire for hibernation. I've tried and tried not to work in the winter, but the nature of the artist is so damned compulsive!! Might as well just expect the birds will stay in the north for the winter, where they will die of freezing temperatures and starvation. To NOT create is the artistic equivalent of staying in the north, or not retreating to the bear cave where the simple warmth of the body (or all those blankets on this bed of mine) is enough comfort to nurture a mind and body in search of peace, a soul in search of reflection and deep contemplation in order to see more clearly the inevitable clearing of the path come late March, when the stretch of road ahead is cleared of snow, and the heart, like a seed, well rested and open, will begin it's onward journey into the mystery of the unknown.

It seems to me, in my 50th winter, that I truly come to a place of recognizing that focused creative and artistic work earns and deserves this time of natural inward turning. My work has kept me so connected to the outside world all these 20 years that I continued to put the needs of others in front of my own natural inclination to retreat, out of fear that those who needed me couldn't wait for my return. Jeez, how egocentric is that? I can be so arrogant at times, I'm telling you, it humiliating!

So back to that morning of choice on the edge of the abyss. That old familiar darkness...that depression? I chose to flip that thought over and said," I choose Happy". And so I have. And since that Monday morning, when I find myself slipping into that familiar skin of worry, I stop and I tell myself, "No, I choose happy today." Indeed, that is what I find I create.

And so it is. And for this I am very grateful. May you choose happy today!

Namaste`,
Connie