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Peace to you and yours,
Blog Moved
{Echo} 9 - Illuminate
Labels: alyice edrich , chrysti hydeck , digital collage , echo , fireworks , illuminate
{Echo} 8 - "Juicy"
I've often wondered, "If winter is so white, then why do I feel so blue?"
Granted, living with BiPolar Disorder means living with a susceptibility to long periods of depression, especially during the winter months. However, a large portion of the population as a whole suffers with SAD, or Seasonal Affective Disorder, which is brought on during long periods of diminished sunlight. Of course one can take medication to ward off the symptoms of depression, but then there is a pill for everything these days. Yes, you sense a bit of sarcasm there. I'm not saying medication is not warranted. I take medication. But I am also a firm believer in taking a mind set that encourages its own well being and recovery. With that in mind, I've compiled a short "David Letterman-esque" list of ways to get through a Blue-Day white day:
Grow and save summer in a jar:
Left © Alyice Edrich / Right © Brenda Lynn
Pull out your paints, your paper, pencils, markers, etc. Heck, pull it all out. Scatter it about you. Immerse yourself in all their succulent, juicy colors and spread sunshine on your palette.
Build an eternal summer on your canvas.
Take long walks on sunny days, even when you feel buried alive:
Always, always search out the beauty in the bleak:
Labels: alyice edrich , bipolar disorder , Depression , echo , juicy
Snowy Sunday #5
The fifth snowy Sunday in a row made me sort of grumpy
Peace to you and yours,
{Echo} 7 - Whisper
I've been unable to take part in the {Echo} project lately. Another blood clot in my leg forced me down, and the resulting depression forced me out. Lying there for weeks on end my body unable to move, my mind gladly took over. It hopped, skipped and jumped. It whirled and twirled and tore across fields and sprang somersaults across my peace. It gladly had the fun my body could not... but really, that sort of mind energy is not so fun. It's nearly maddening, to be quite honest. How fitting the 7th {Echo} prompt: Whisper. Oh, for the softening solace of a hushed whisper, something like a summer rain or a baptismal, cleansing and calming my racing mind.
Staring at the ceiling counting cornered cobwebs for the umpteenth time, I pondered the Whispers so soothing to my soul: rustling stalks of corn reaching the deep blue of late fall skies, lakeside water lapping rocky shores, hummingbirds searching out sweet nectar, loving professions tickling the hairs of your ear, girlfriends sharing all too well-known secrets. But a certain image, a specific time kept creeping in, coming back and playing across my mind like a somersault. A whisper shared only between a certain two, and only once in a lifetime... the soothing whisper of a new mother's love:
Peace to you and yours,
Labels: Depression , echo , whisper
Surprisingly Resilient
When I entered my blog, it surprised me to see just how much time has passed since my last post, and that brought a bit of a cringe upon me, quickly followed by a smile. You see, I've been pondering the idea of surprises lately as that is the topic of the latest Echo challenge. I assume like most folks my first thoughts went to cheers upon entering dimly lit rooms full of family and friends, bright boxes with fanciful bows, the love of your life holding out to you a simple gold band, and even the "+" sign on a pregnancy test . . . all those surprises life hands you as you're strolling along not always paying the attention you should to your own life. I thought to myself, yes, surprises, even good surprises (depending on your position in the matters), but for some reason these things just didn't settle as fine with me.
So, I percolated a while. I do that. I percolate. Sometimes I compost, but that only happens on the really big endeavors. On the smaller notions, I simmer and percolate, and this I did. I started thinking about more intense and unhappy surprises like your best friend moving hundreds of miles away, the engine failing on your only vehicle and you're on thin ice at work anyway, that lump in your breast the doctor says needs "a closer look".
These things certainly didn't settle as fine with me either. I just wasn't satisfied with any of the notions that were coming to mind so, being an exceptionally warm day for late November, I gathered my camera and my dog Delilah and we went walking . . . and percolating.
Now travelling along a country mile always holds a surprise or two no matter the season. This day was no different. First was the orangey-red fungi of which I have no knowledge growing along a downed log. Then there were the lime green hedge balls lying in neat piles under the hedge trees, along with the lone one wedged in a fork of a branch overhead. (As if some late-night fairies had held a rugby match.) Such color for a dead and barren winter pasture! Delilah found her own surprise while attempting to walk into her favorite pond, only to have her feet shielded by a thin layer of ice that had accumulated the night before. To this she growled and scratched until the ice gave way. (Another surprise!) Her antics brought a chuckle, but it was those bright reds and greens springing from the dry browns around me that brought some sort of inkling to my mind, but I just couldn't grasp it and name it . . . not yet.
Delilah and I made our way to the southern most corner of the pasture, turned, then headed back north along the fence row separating the plots of ground. (Funny, we followed the cattle path just like any other herding animal, but that's another story, another post.) Within just a few paces I noticed a tree leaning out from the fence line. At first glance it appeared as any other tree along that country mile. But, for some reason I was drawn to look twice and noticed a scarred notch bulging from its side. It was then I noticed the culprit, the agressor to the scarring which still had it's claws dug in:
And just like any good surprise, there was mine boldly staring right at me. That inkling finally percolated itself to a full simmer and boiled right on over.
~Henry Ford
"There is new life blooming from the dead base. It reminds me of how no matter what life throws our way, and no matter how much we feel broken, there is new life and new strength waiting for us--just around the corner."
And in that I had another surprise yet: my new partner just happened to see things just as quirky . . . or as normally . . . as I did. And that just makes me smile.
Peace to you and yours,
Labels: alyice edrich , delilah , echo , photography , surprise , tree