My intent was to blog and vlog every day, not because I think the world desperately wants to hear from me that often, but because I need the practice blogging and vlogging. It’s been hard lately, though, because I just haven’t felt like it, and when I have started to write or record, I too often have been finding myself bitching and moaning about the state of the world, or talking myself from one level of depression down to an even lower level of depression.
I wasn’t in a great place mentally or emotionally at the start of 2020, but then COVID-19 came along and wiped out my job and two theatre shows I was playing. Then came a series of police killings and the demonstrations and occasional riots that followed in response. Throughout both crises, the lack of leadership at the top has been woefully apparent, exacerbating the situation and turning an already tense time into a disaster.
Then, warming to the task, the universe decided to give me one more smack: A spot of skin cancer was spotted on my leg. The operation to remove it took a pretty good chunk out from just above my right knee. It has been painful, and until today has prevented me from doing much walking, which has traditionally been my primary method of combating depression. In short, things have not been swell.
When I think about my own troubles, however, I recognize that they come off as the whining of a not-well-off-but-not-poor white-privileged guy living in relative comfort, who doesn’t have to worry about many of the problems that beset other groups of people. Acknowledging that doesn’t make me feel any better. It does, however, add a layer of guilt on top of everything else.
Maybe that’s good. Maybe I need a little pain and a little guilt. Make I need to have my foundation shaken a bit (maybe even stirred!) I think of a line from Woody Allen’s Annie Hall: “If I get too mellow, I ripen and rot.”
So time to shake off the dust and get moving. No one except flies and worms likes rotten fruit.