For many people, it seems life as a human is a positive ride full of adventure and spirit. I’m not naive enough (or perhaps not brave enough) to think that any life is all good and pure. But for me? Since I can remember, this human life has been a struggle.
Not in any outward way. I have lived a privileged life in a beautiful country. I was raised in a nice suburban Vancouver neighbourhood. I went to school. I went to university. I traveled. I met amazing people along the way.
Those facts alone make me wonder why I have not lived a great life. Instead, since the day I first realized that I saw the world through a different lens, I have struggled to find any joy. To hush the thoughts in my “unquiet” mind. It wasn’t until I was in my 20s that I even realized other people didn’t walk through their days with idle thoughts of darkness and depression, that thoughts of suicide were not part of their mental synopsis.
That realization was a harsh one for me. I looked back over my childhood and teen years and saw how darkness clouded so many of my memories. That I had never really felt loved or love. That I didn’t even know what it felt like to be happy. But, it made me pause. I put my life on pause for a few fleeting moments, saw the long road ahead of me and acknowledged that I needed to try and change. I needed to accept that my mind was not a normal one and I needed to do something differently or it was going to be a long dark road or — worse — a very short one.
I didn’t find any magical cure for depression. Instead, I found the blessings in the tiny moments. I learned to narrow my lens. To see life in the present, instead of seeing hurt from the past or worry for the future. I picked up my camera and started to take pictures of objects I would have otherwise overlooked, finding bliss in the smallest treasures and later the largest ones — my children.
Eventually, I learned to see those moments more often.
Even in my darkest days and hours. Even from a hospital bed, I was able to see something somewhere. Sitting alone in the morning, sad and lonely — looking up and seeing a single feather floating on an invisible breeze is enough to make me open the blinds and trudge through another day.
“Heart Clover foxrosser @ flickr.com. Creative Commons. Some rights reserved.