It is one of those “dark cloudy days” today (as were the last couple of days), and when that happens I rack my brain trying to figure out how I can “be happy again”, as if there’s a magic object that will transform the hovering grayness into abundant sunshine. If there was, this would be easy. But unfortunately, there’s not and I must wait for the storm to pass.

During a storm, however, there’s always a few things that can bring comfort. And that brings me here to you.

I’ve been wanting to write about the things I’ve been doing these last seven months that have been able to bring a degree of comfort during the rough days. And what better time to do that than when actually going through a rough day?! ‘Tis fate.

Now that we’ve been able to enjoy spring and currently summer, my Toolbox of Comfort has expanded to include one important thing:

The Garden

Each day, no matter how hard it is to get up and walk around,* I take a walk through the garden. I notice new growth, pinch off and deadhead the old stuff, smell the roses (literally), rub my hands on the lavender and basil and enjoy their beautiful scents floating through the air, check to see if I can eat a fresh raspberry or tomato (lately I have been!), weed a little section here and there, and if it’s not raining, I sit and sip my coffee or tea. Usually with the pups laying nearby. It might only be a 5 or 10-minute moment, but it’s something I look forward to everyday. My garden is my little haven.

Due to my depression, this is the most present and in tune I’ve ever been with the garden, even more-so than at my first house. Although depression has been a burden I wouldn’t want to repeat, it’s also been a blessing in that aspect. I stop long enough to watch ants carry things back and forth across the hilly mulch, and sit still long enough for dragonflies and butterflies to land on me. It forces me to take each day at a time, each hour at a time.

Yoga

Back in 2019, when my depression first began to get the best of me, I finally decided to sign up for a beginning yoga class, something I had always wanted to try. It may sound insignificant, but the anxiety I had just registering for the class was almost enough to make me physically ill. The days leading up to my first class were full of sleepless nights and sick knotted feelings in my stomach.

Leaving our house the evening of my first class was reflective of a child going to Kindergarten for the first time; Paul wished me luck, gave me a big hug, and told me to make some friends. I walked out with my water bottle and new yoga mat in my arms like a kid with fresh school supplies, took a deep breath of Spring’s chilled air, and braved the two-minute car ride to the yoga school down the street.

And like a child at school for the first time, I had no idea where to go or what to do. Do I wear my socks? Where should I put my water bottle? Is there a specific side of my mat I should use? What if I have to pee? What if I do this wrong? What if I’m too much of a beginner for the beginner class? I bet everyone’s way better at this than I am. I should have practiced before coming.

As soon as we sat down on our mats, my teacher asked us all to introduce ourselves and say why we had decided to join the class (there were only six of us, all women). Everyone else seemed to have had some experience in yoga and they mostly said they wanted to focus on aches and pains. I was also there for aches and pains but mine were all emotional and mental. When it was my turn to introduce myself, my voice shook and my eyes began to water. I told everyone I was trying to figure out who I was and that yoga and meditation seemed like a good stepping stone; I hoped to gain clarity and confidence in my life. The other women, including my teacher, were warm and encouraging to my confession. I fell in love with yoga within the first few minutes and wished I had started it sooner.

I still will take the occasional class (I love my teacher), but since my depression became so intense this year**, I’ve been doing more at-home yoga programs using the Daily Yoga app. I love it. It gives me something to do when I’m bored, it helps me become stronger, physically and mentally, and it never feels like a chore. If I don’t feel like doing an intense session, I can complete a relaxing/restorative session instead. Any type of session is better for me than no session at all. Sometimes I just do a quick 6-minute morning wake-up. Sometimes I can complete a long, challenging 45-minute session. Sometimes I’ll do two sessions in one day. It’s been rare these past few months that I don’t do yoga once a day, and I’m so grateful I’ve found something I enjoy doing. My hope is to have a platform in the backyard where it’s completely private and then I can do yoga outside while the pups bask in the sun and robins sing overhead in the trees. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

New Art

My latest piece of comfort has been through my art. Before May of this year, I had only made a handful of acrylic canvases and usually never finished them. After talking to my therapist multiple times about losing the idea of perfection with my art, I decided to simply paint for myself with no rhyme or reason. I blocked out everyone else’s thoughts on what my art should look like or how I could make it perfect or how others would think of this piece, and just painted. Friends, it was glorious, and I haven’t been able to stop. I have unlocked a whole new door to my creativity, and it’s a style I never thought I would try or be good at.

My brain randomly sees colors and then I must go in my studio and put it on a canvas. I never know how a piece will turn out when I start; most of the time I don’t have an idea in my head, just colors. I don’t know if I’m using the brushes or knives right, but I don’t care. I play and play and splat and splat until I truly love what I’m looking at. Sometimes Paul will hear me say “Oh, look at that color,” or “Oh, that’s so pretty.” If it’s something I would like to have in my home, I know I’m painting true to who I am.

It has been a wonderful accident to find that I enjoy this and that others enjoy it, too. I’ve been asked if I’m going to sell my pieces and although I eventually will, I’m just not ready to get back into selling and running my Etsy shop (which I’ve put on Vacation Mode until further notice). I’m having too much fun playing and making. I feel like a kid when I have my brushes and knives (art knives!) in my hand. As I talked about in my last post, I’m Nurturing my art by just enjoying it, by playing and making.

Now that I’ve been able to get words onto paper/screen, I’m feeling even more comfort. I might take a peek in the garden again. Thank you for being here, friends! Happy July to you!

Hugs and love to you,

And what about you, friends? Is there anything that brings you comfort when life just seems a little heavy? A movie? Activity? Favorite book? Feel free to comment below – I’d love to hear your ideas.

*The rough days come less frequently than they did in the beginning, but nonetheless they’re still able to pop up and I have to remember what to do to sit with the storm.

**I still struggle with making plans in advance so I have not signed up for classes since February. Very few things do not cause anxiety when it comes to making plans. Hopefully I’ll get to go back to classes this year. And if not, that’s okay.