Blue is Beautiful

Sadness and depression aren't the same thing.  Ever since I came back from Peru where I had my demons of depression purged, I've still had moments of real sadness.  But it's okay, because sadness and grief, as painful as they may be, aren't bad.  Depression is.  I learned that distinction in the Amazon rainforest drinking ayahuasca.
I've never been much of a news hound, although I like to stay relatively informed.  But since my return home, I'm deliberately more out of touch than ever.  Now that I'm back in my home and native land, I pay less attention to the news because it's so bloody depressing.  I do my best to avoid distressing pictures and stories, but the Internet is in my face and every day I'll see something that saddens me.

I get requests and exhortations for signatures and money from various agencies because I donate regularly to animal rights and environmental groups, so my name and email are "out there."  One morning last week my mood took a nosedive when I checked my email. I was assaulted with a horrific picture of a dead elephant with its trunk and half its face cut off.  This abomination was done in order to "harvest" its ivory tusks.  So I did the right thing and signed the petition to stop the slaughter, but it didn't make me feel any better.
I felt true grief for what we are doing to these magnificent animals in the name of greed.  But as genuine as my concern and sadness is, it's still not bad.  In fact, it's good that I feel that way.  Even deep grief for the loss of a loved one isn't bad.  It's painfully hard, but it's right and it's necessary. 
When I  railed against the hardship of drinking ayahuasca at the retreat in Peru, the ayahuascera told me not to judge an extremely difficult experience as "bad." 
Healing is difficult.  The more severe the injury or illness is, the longer and more painful the healing process will be.  Realising the difference between something that's bad, which implies judgement, and something that's arduous, which is a descriptive term, was a revelation for me. 

I am saddened by "bad" things, such as animal abuse and environmental destruction.  In fact, they may even depress me.  But they don't make me feel worthless and ashamed.  They aren't a reflection of who I am.  The things I deem "bad" reflect what I believe is right and wrong.  When I'm saddened or even horrified by what humanity is capable of doing, it means I care, and that's a good thing.  Rock bottom depression means the sufferer is beyond caring.  Depression renders a person self-absorbed. 
Nowadays, if I shed tears for the suffering of others, and that includes all living beings, it's because I'm no longer trapped in a morass of self-centred gloom.  I've been liberated from the prison of self-pity so that I can feel genuine sorrow for someone or something else, and perhaps do something about it, even if it's just showing some compassion.
Although grief and sadness usually happen because of a significant loss, love is at the very core of these  undesirable but necessary emotions.  Depression, however, is a result of a lack of love, whether it's for the self or another.  Andrew Solomon, author of The Noonday Demon, a brilliant, biographical tome about his depression, says that the opposite of depression isn't happiness, but vitality.  And William Faulkner famously said that "given the choice between the experience of pain and nothing, I would choose pain."  Depression immobilises and atrophies the soul.  Grief and sadness, however, move the spirit, even though it may hurt like hell.  There's a stirring in the soul that allows for emotional clearance and eventual healing.
Although genuine sorrow makes the heart and soul vulnerable to more of the same, it also exposes the goodness and beauty that lie within.  It's a sign that life and love still matter.  And that's a good thing.
- g.p.