On the Path

It’s nearly three weeks since I began taking that increased dose of the thyroid-boosting drug and, if I’m honest, nearly three weeks since I began also taking an antidepressant. Who knows whence cometh my help as the Bible says? Will it have come from those loving individuals who reacted to my last post? For sure. Will it have come as well from lifting up my eyes unto those hills that the Psalmist talks about, especially now that their trees have set their petticoats to flouncing? Very likely. And it also seems that the process of paying closer attention to everything outside myself will help. 

For example: 

The other night I sat parked next to a 100-foot stretch of bike path that emerges from a wooded glade to create a small ‘stage’ before disappearing back into the foliage. This path passes through a number of towns just north and west of Boston here, so in itself it is far from rural. In fact I found myself beside it in this parking lot because I had just met my grown daughter and her two babies for an early supper. And when I returned to my car afterward, the light of the May evening was just billowing so that I had to pause and watch as an ever-freshening stream of people passed. 

Here zipped past a whippet-thin cyclist curved like an apostrophe over his handlebars.

Now here came an identically dressed brace of young women, high-stepping like a couple of drum majors.

Now I watched a man lope by at an easy trot, plugged, like almost everyone I saw, into his ear buds.

As I sat I saw that for ten or 15 seconds at a stretch, the path would be empty. And the sky was so blue. And the light was so golden.

I watched as an older lady in a sari appeared. She paused as if winded, settled her fists on her hips, and called out repeatedly the name of an unseen child. It was like watching a play, for now, as if on cue, came the long-awaited child, a boy of perhaps five, zooming into sight on his little scooter to describe several small circles around his exasperated companion,  

I watched these folks and others for some 25 or 30 minutes. I would have gladly stayed another 30 but the light was now changing, growing both more luminous and more coppery and I knew I didn’t want to see it fade.

So instead I came home, tucked away the memory and remembered again that as the old Irish adage says, it is in the shelter of each other that the people live – and find freshly, every time, a sense of peace.


17 thoughts on “On the Path

  1. I wondered, Terry. Figured you had moved on to other activities.
    Hope the meds will help your thyroid levels and the ennui. This combined topic is important to explore. Thank you for addressing it.

  2. Yeah, persistent negative moods are often chemical and maybe age related. The depression itself can prevent us from taking action to alleviate it. Glad you have a perceptive doc. Truth is your writing has often lifted me out of it, Terry, by making me laugh so hard, and see life from the perspective of a truly creative writer, a lover of words, a crafter of sentences that delight, one who revels in the often ridiculous details of the present moment – and laughs at herself to boot. You need a writer who can do the same for you! But you are inimitable!

  3. Hey, T: Welcome back! (Or even partway back.) So lovely to have you again as observer and sharer. Sharp eyes and an open heart – we’re blessed. Rick

  4. Been on thyroid meds for years and anti depressants for almost 20 years. But now, since my sister became ill with dementia, I seem to stay in a funk. New meds? More meds? Not sure what direction to go in.

    1. Oh Susie I am so sorry to read this. What a loss to have your sister slipping into the mists that way. Who will help you remember your early days? Maybe you and I should resolve to cheer each other up. Bless you!

      1. Yes it is pretty awful. I was up in April for a quick trip. We went to lunch…… was like sitting with my six year old Granddaughter. We did visit a lot about my Moms Dad who passed in 1956….. I hate everyday I never went back to New England. Was NEVER my plan to stay here. Now that she is failing daily I hate not being there even more. Her husband is doing a wonderful job of caring for her and does not want to put her in a home but, he is 78 years old in July. Time will tell. So sad indeed!

  5. look at you!! You still have an amazing way with words!! So glad you are feeling more like yourself!!

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