The Pits of Despair and Back Again

Riding the waves of emotionality; riding the waves of life.

Life seems intent on me learning to ride the waves of emotionality. Since I was a child, I’ve been moody and broody; I was sometimes called “island weather girl”, cycling from clear skies to tropical storms, for any reason, or for no reason at all. I’ve given up pathologizing this trait—it’s a part of me, it colors my life, and it’s here to teach me.

The flow from high to low is unpredictable, sudden or gradual. I can sense my mood dropping, I feel myself moving into a kind of frantic hollowness, and then my thoughts get cloudy: they become despairing, intensely dramatic, and are usually untrue. I can’t trust what I’m hearing inside my head, but because I feel low, I’m much more inclined to believe them. Why are fear and despair so compelling? Why are these states so distinguished in our society?

Attaching myself to a thought or a feeling always makes it worse. Identifying with any particular narrative my mind is churning out allows the low to continue with a vengeance. The mood then dominates my life instead of being background music.

The practice is to find the line between restricting the feeling and overindulging in it. The practice is to experience what’s there, without identification, and to let it change—because it always, always changes. The more I practice watching things change, the easier it is to trust that things will keep changing.

Despite this lesson I think I keep learning, it still feels surprising when my world suddenly elevates after feeling terrible. How fantastic and confusing. No matter how many times I watch my mood shift from low to high, and my mind clear up with the light of a different perspective, it still comes as a sort of shock to realize that I won’t be living in despair forever.

. .

We are each a microcosm of the great whole; I can see how my internal chemistry similarly maps onto the patterns of life: things go up and down and then cycle around again. I’m not sure that there can ever be times of great fortune, bounty, and joy without being intertwined with some kind of crisis or devastation. Expansion and contraction walk together. The highs come with the lows.

To get to the other side of something difficult, you must experience it. Knowing this symbiotic nature of highs and lows can make crisis easier to bear, if only just a little. The faith that things can get better and will be ok may sometimes be the only thing worth searching for and holding onto.

Regardless of if you’re experiencing a high or a low, get out of the way and let it happen. Remember, it must change.

Maggie