Our family has a history of depression and melancholia. Recently I have felt that genetic link pulling on me. I, the eternal optimist, am struggling to understand this state of mind. I tend to fight my way out of moods and situations that trouble me. When I am feeling melancholy the fight ebbs from me a bit at a time. I recognize it at some point and begin to practice the ways I know that rescue me back to myself. The surprise is that this is happening to me on a regular basis. My sister says I simply have the family malaise. It is, in some ways, inevitable. Genetics are wonderful and they suck. Trying to pretend that I do not closely resemble my paternal grandmother is tatamount to the ostrich sticking his head in the sand. Someone had to do the job, and I say that with a smile, as I have learned to appreciate her good qualities along with her extreme eccentricities.
So, I have to get up early in the morning for work. It is 11:30 p.m. Time to take night meds, put on jammies and go to bed. I wish sweet dreams for myself. I would like to dream of Sonny, my dear doxie, who passed away in February of this year. I would love to see him running and playing with the energy of a puppy. Do you believe animals go to heaven? I do. I'm gonna see my Sonny again and he is going to live with me again.
Life is strange, isn't it? I am 61 years old. I was born a few seconds ago when compared with the span of history and the depth of the universe. In many ways we pass through this life experience like a meteor speeding by the earth. A glimpse for a moment or two and gone. Am I being morbid? I think not!
Where is my owl? He will set things straight if I can manage to hear him or see him on the tower.
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