...Winston Churchill called depression his black dog....couldn’t relate to that at all when I first read it...thought what I was feeling, there in my mid-20’s, must be something far worse...more like an unstoppable white whale, swallowing, mutilating whatever tried to stand against it...nothing, certainly, small and domesticated enough to be held in a lap or walked on a leash...
...my metaphors have come a long way since then...no rainbows or unicorns, but still don’t quite get the black dog thing....depression’s more like a cat I'm highly allergic to, but know well...this thing of darkness I acknowledge mine....shedding all over clothes and furniture...dropping dead birds and mice to be found when I least expect them...that I push gently out the door but always seems to find its way back inside...
...sometimes, to calm my mind, I imagine a dog...when consciousness madly flips through topics, surfs fantasies, tells itself outrageous jokes, working with such frenzy that any attempt at following the breath or simply drifting away seems like tilting at windmills....
...floppy eared and friendly, gamboling calmly into the room...an older, wiser dog, most likely...perhaps sniffing around just a little bit before resting...seeking only quiet companionship and warmth...unconcerned with any of that...
4 comments:
While I, thankfully, can't relate to depression, I also can't relate to metaphors involving dogs and anything other than the spirit of your last paragraph. The expression that so-and-so "is a dog" has always irked me.
Please tell Bella to not take offense...Churchill probably just wasn't a dog person. :o(
I like what you've done with her photo, and I'm thinking !album cover!
…seems that I am just now discovering unicorns.
Dogs are awesome! And I still question the hierarchy of metaphorical dogs being somehow superior to whales, rainbows or unicorns…
I wish you great healing whether it's under the metaphor of toad, shaft-of-white-light or sphinx.
Having just come back from my Sunday am Kundalini ritual of being wrung out and reset for the upcoming week, this piece left me warm and fuzzy and definitely dreamy, all while having my little back dog who is the antithesis of depression occupying my lap.
Sat Nam
In all the years I've dealt with depression, I've never thought of it as a dog. Or any animal, actually. I've always associated it with the color grey. The feeling of being stuck. The uncomfortableness of any awkward situation I've ever been in.
But never a black dog. In fact, my black dog now is reason enough to never suspect that black dogs can bring anything but love.
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