In Service of The Heart

A "Careful" Resuscitation

I have been a woefully negligent custodian of these pages.  I realize that.  My lax approach to writing affords me no license to brand myself a "blogger."  Even still, a nagging sense of responsibility impels that I deposit the occasional submission, and I hope there is at least one of you who derives benefit from the effort.  Irregardless, I can assure that when I do have something to share, that information is often precious ---and therefore assigned significance by way of mere inclusion.

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The last several weeks have seen me assume an unexpected (though most welcome) role:  Maid of Honor.  Almost precisely one month to this day my father received a long-distance phone call --on his birthday, no less-- in which the well-spoken voice on the other end kindly requested that he give his attention to a delicate matter.  Fortunately, it was Charlie --my sister's long-term beau-- requesting permission for a proposal of marriage, to be  promptly issued that weekend when taking recess to the coastal destination spot of Bournemouth, England.  Everyone in reach of our family is of course thrilled for the couple, none more so than my father, who wept tears of joy at the news.  With the wedding targeted for the first Saturday of September we were essentially allotted three and a half months to move from planning to execution, and I am trying my very best to devote extra effort to this new position of bridal consigliere.  Jenny is extraordinary on many counts; the strength and surety with which she conducts herself demonstrates the fierce will of a vintage Taurus.  Rarely have I sensed in the past that she needed my help for anything, so to act as her wingman on this momentous project is a unique opportunity and privilege.  It has also provided a focus for the summer, with very specific assignments and goals, the least of which being to improve my appearance.  I am no Pippa Middleton, but I do hope to make for a nice addition to the team flanking her altar.  And unlike Pippa, I would hate to divert attention from my older sister on the day that she adopts her partner's name.  I mustn't stand-out; my bearing needs to blend seamlessly with the other attendants, a company of ever-swelling ranks now claiming five bridesmaids and two groomsmen.  My sickness must not sour the ceremony, a milestone captured by countless trained eyes (if not digital devices).  I owe it to the betrothed to present myself within a degree of normalcy.  I cannot distract from or sully this chapter of their romance.  Don't cast shadows Lorena.  If anything, cast rice.

May Love Be Your Salve

Scout for ways to make a positive impact

Love is the most powerful tool that any sentient being can yield, stronger and more resounding than hate.  Whether carried by man or animal, it is his most valuable currency, capable of enormous impact when exchanged.  It doesn't depend on a certain level of experience or sophistication, having equal potency among all ages.  It is, quite simply, a major key to understanding Life's major whys and hows (or so I have come to conclude).  Accompanied by knowledge and craft, both creative and functional, love might be the illumination Carl Jung spoke of upon declaring,  "As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being."  

Indeed, few make a better argument for love's application than columnist Andrew W. K.  Writing from his weekly platform in The Village Voice, this astute counselor recently responded to a reader seeking relief from a depression so deep and penetrating that suicide had become a very real option.  His answer, while not unprecedented, was equally affecting and effective; I cannot speak for the original correspondent, but it profoundly resonated.  My veins, previously withered from caustic dysphoria, were immediately infused with a rich, burning charge.  Why not redirect some of that attention and energy consumed by depression elsewhere?  Stray outside of your own being and its stagnant concerns:  "[T]urn away from yourself and towards your neighbor.  ...  Give your love to the world and you'll get more purpose and meaning back in your life than you ever imagined possible."  

Please don't laugh, but have long intended to "do good", so to have that confirmed as a valuable, rewarding use of one's faculties fuels me with an extra pinch of brio.  All too often I view myself as burdensome to my family and detrimental to the earth at large; I markedly experience less self-loathing when I have taken pains to improve both houses.  Below, I have excerpted the sections of Andrew's essay that most seized my attention.  His reasoning falls closely in line with the "Thought for today" from June 16th, as opportunely published in Maine's Portland Press Herald the very morning I was piecing together this entry.  By Ivy Baker Priest, former U.S. Treasurer, the quote states:  "We seldom stop to think how many people's lives are entwined with our own.  It is a form of selfishness to imagine that every individual can operate on his own or can pull out of the general stream and not be missed."  If, after considering Priest's words, you are still questioning your place and value on the planet, I implore that you read on...

"It's healthy to think about life and death, even when we're feeling hopeless.  Or perhaps especially then.  We shouldn't be afraid to try and imagine what it would be like to kill ourselves.  Often times, it can help us get a refreshed perspective and appreciation for the astounding adventure we're part of, and how truly frightening and challenging it would be to really end it all.

"...[B]eing dead is an impossibly unimaginable experience anyway.  It might not even be an experience at all, but rather the total void of non-experience.  When I've been in pain, sometimes non-experience sounded pretty good.  Whatever it is to be dead, almost all of us have tried to fathom it, and in times of great anguish, we've probably wondered if it might be preferable to the discomfort of daily living.

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"As far as dealing with depression, I have a simple suggestion that I think could work like magic to heal your soul and lift your spirits.  It's a very simple thing called... Helping other people.  Sometimes setting aside your own troubles and focusing on someone else's in their time of need can have an incredibly powerful effect on relieving you of your own despair.  This is especially true when you help someone you don't know.  Of course it's good to help family and friends, but connecting with someone unknown to you, and being able to simply exercise your good will, can provide a unique and uplifting energy that almost nothing else compares to.

"Some might say that helping other people just to make yourself feel good is selfish and not true generosity.  But I think the fact that it benefits you is exactly the point.  We are all bound together.  No matter how much we like to think of ourselves as unrelated and apart from others and their plight, we are, in fact, all in the same boat.  God or evolution or both have specifically wired our brains to feel pleasure when we help other people.  Our health responds positively to acts of human kindness, whether we perform or receive them.  This reward is meant to be tangible.  It's supposed to feel good to do good for others -- we're then motivated to do ever more good.  To be able to relate to someone else whom you never met before is to be able to relate more deeply to yourself."  

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And with that, reader, go forth and assist!