Busy mind on the way in to work this morning. It started when I drove by the raccoon I killed with my car last night. Reliving the horror as I saw the dim shape hurtle into my front wheels, felt the solid thump. Looked into my rear view mirror and saw it still twitching. Turned around to drive back by and saw its beauty, the thick fur ready for a winter that would never arrive, the perfectly ringed tail, the slender muzzle and clever paws. And the slight motion. I knew I’d have to go back and finish the job, so I turned around and aimed for its head. Familiar now with that thump. The anguish too great for tears.
Depression seems to be an attachment to sorrow. I have been exploring the Buddhist principle of non-attachment, not becoming attached to it, but experimenting with it. Somebody suggests that, in the moment, you ask yourself, “Do you have a problem right now?” Points out that, usually, the answer is no. This helps. Brings you back from the dingy back alleys of your mind that you continue to explore while reality is happening unnoticed. Going back over the might-have-beens and the should-haves and the could-haves is pretty much profitless. Even worse, for me, are the might-bes and what I have learned to call catastrophizing – starring myself and playing all the bit parts in intense dramas and fraught dialogues. I am trying to be ready without being expectant. As my yoga teacher Jan asked during class recently, “Are you waiting for something to happen?” The world can happen while you’re waiting. You need to pay attention to the happening, not to the waiting.
