Dreaming

I grew up in the era of television shows like Bewitched, and I Dream of Jeanie (of the two, Bewitched was my favorite of course. Samantha had a few more brain cells than Jeanie ever did). In my mind, how exciting it would be to possess magical powers. Chores and homework would be a thing of the past! But try as I might, no amount of nose twitching or eye blinking could produce any semblance of magic (much to my youthful dismay).

As I grew older, my fantasies took a more technological turn - which seemed to be somewhat more realistic in nature. Perhaps I could become better, stronger, faster... yup I envisioned being the next Bionic Woman! After that came dreams of transporters and replicators from Star Trek (actually I still dream about those two items sometimes).

I suppose you could say that when I was growing up, I wasn't satisfied with my plodding little life - with the grass certainly greener on the other side of the fence (well, on the other side of the television screen).

In reality, true magic comes from developing relationships with others - not from blinking or twitching. Perhaps someday there will be bionics or transporters as viewed on television. Until then and after that time, there is the wondrous journey from here to there and back again with friends and family to provide much needed love and support. Can't get that from a machine!

Dreams are important. It is the dream of accomplishing something that can inspire me to achieve what was thought to be impossible. Goals are not completed in the blink of an eye, or twitch of a nose. It is the journey - with all the tiring efforts, failures and skinned knees along the way - that provide a fulfillment of dreams. Even fulfilling dreams I never before considered, and now cannot envision living without.

Surviving the waves and currents

Many years ago, in what seems like another lifetime, I lived fairly close to the Pacific Ocean for about five years. In order to more fully enjoy the beauty of the ocean, I became a certified scuba diver. Along with a written test, a big part of the training class was learning basic scuba skills in a swimming pool - prior to traveling to the ocean for open water certification.

We were required to learn how to...

• Clear our masks of water, while sitting at the bottom of the pool. 
• Swim 200-yards wearing a snorkel and fins (not too difficult). 
• Swim 50-yards underwater without coming up for a breath of air (a bit more difficult, took me two tries). 
• Lastly was the requirement to tread water for a full 10-minutes with no support (no hanging onto anything or anyone). 

This last test was easy at first, but as time went on it became very tiring and increasingly difficult to stay afloat. All this was accomplished in the relative safety of a quiet swimming pool.

Now imagine yourself in the ocean with underwater currents, and waves that can push and pull you in many directions. Not to mention dangerous storms; decompression sickness (the bends); possible embolism; being tangled, injured or trapped in underwater vegetation or rock formations; running out of oxygen; or having encounters with dangerous sea creatures. It can be quite easy to injure, or even kill yourself while scuba diving - thus the need for training, and the ever present caution to never dive alone - to always have a dive partner. It is the job of each person to keep an eye on their partner, and be there to help in the event something happens.

Life is very similar to scuba diving - constantly being pushed and pulled in different directions, with a multitude of dangers all around. Our life training manual is contained in the scriptures, and we will all have frequent tests.

Right now I have run out of oxygen, and am desperately trying to keep my head above the surface by unendingly treading water. There are many times when I just get so tired of fighting the waves and currents and want to give up - to silently sink below the darkened surface of the water.

But I have a partner, someone who won’t ever give up on trying to help me. He has a constant eye on me, and allows me to hold onto Him when I am ready to surrender to the darkness. He is able to buoy me up and give me moments of peace and rest. Who better to help me eventually make it to the safety of the shore, than He who once walked on water? My problem is that I frequently tend to rely on the arm of flesh, floundering desperately under my own power to stay afloat - and often fail to reach out to Him who is always ready to save.

In a previous post I mentioned girding on armor and having a ready battle plan for fighting the mists of depression’s darkness that plague my everyday life. Trust me, when in the depths of the ocean, wearing heavy armor isn't such a good idea. Unless said armor is the buoyant whole armor of God (Ephesians 6:11-14).

Now it is a matter of finding His superior armor amongst all the clutter and debries in my brain and life. To put it to good use, and set aside the arm of flesh (reliance on myself, who am truly imperfect) - and always remember to reach out to Him who is perfect, He who saves.

Storm on the horizon

It was the summer of 1977, and I was 12-years-old. My Aunt JoAnn wanted to take three of her children on a road trip to see some LDS church history sites in Illinois and Missouri - but she only had 4 or 5 days total vacation time to drive there and back. Two of my cousins are within six months to a year of my age, and knowing it would be a fabulous experience for me - my Mom convinced my aunt to take me with them on the whirlwind car trip.

My aunt and an older cousin did all the driving - going straight through that first night - the next morning I woke up somewhere in Nebraska. It was the first time I had ever been where there were no mountains to be seen anywhere - just a huge empty sky and unending flatness. I remember feeling uncomfortable, and a bit frightened. I wanted to return home to the safety and protection of my mountain valley - to escape that vast nothingness. It wasn’t at all familiar to me, and I really didn’t feel like I belonged there.

This event of long ago was brought to remembrance last night as I pondered the reasons why I almost seem willing in a way, to slide back into depression when given an opportunity. It came to my mind that the darkness of depression had become a familiar place to me - a place where I have lived so much of my life (decades really). Leaving that state of being behind, now living in this new world of light and color seems almost strange, at times uncomfortable and a bit frightening. This is going to sound weird, but it is almost like a "homesickness" in a way. As miserable as it was (and is) to be in that darkened depressing world, at least it is a very familiar place for me. Better the devil you know kind of thing.

Now that I can better see this behavior trait, I am aware of the need to work harder on accepting this new state of being as my real home - to become familiar and comfortable in a world of light and color. I need to be more aware and better notice when the mists of darkness appear on the horizon. I can sometimes in advance see or feel it coming. That is then the time to gird on my armor, and have a ready battle plan on how to move out of the storm’s path - rather than allow it to engulf me.

I am quite certain this will not be an easy thing to do - but then nothing this past year so full of changes in thoughts, perceptions and attitudes has been easy. The Lord never said life would be easy, just that it would be worth it. I still have a long journey ahead of me - so if you see me sliding unawares back into the darkness... shout out your best sounding battle cry to help me remember to come in from the storm!!

To languish or wallow? That is the question.

What is it about the word, languish that I so much identify with myself? In particular on days like today. I have good intentions, and a list of things that need to be done - and yet I languish in a chair for going on 10-plus-hours now, doing nothing really productive (unless you count attempting to lose myself in online mindless games). Languish: to lose vigor and vitality; to be or become weak or feeble; droop; fade.

On days like this I just want to fade from life - from reality - from stress - from the world in general - from myself. I feel maybe I need someone to encourage me to get up and get moving. But let’s be honest here... I would probably tell them to, "Mind your own business!! Go away and leave me to wallow!!" (now there’s another good descriptive word, wallow).

I languish, I wallow, I simply waste away precious hours and days. In my mind’s eye, days like this epitomize true laziness at its finest. At least that is the way I perceive it - and I berate myself about it over and over again - saying vicious and unkind things in my mind. Things that are directed solely at myself, and my obvious lack of anything resembling worth.

Knowing from whence these false thoughts originate doesn’t always help free me from a mind and body that is constantly fighting against what at times appear to be overwhelming massive blobs of depression. The impenetrable mists that chokingly block out all light, and leave me rotting in a well of darkness. How’s that for descriptive? Care to join me for tea sometime here in my abyss of misery? I thought not... run quickly away from here - run for your life! Please don't worry about me, I'll probably be back to a reasonable semblance of sanity by tomorrow (I hope).