Mar 132015

Up before five as usual. Have java and Pandora music. Four days till surgery. Feeling ok.

Suddenly I have several teachers. I guess when the need arises, the teacher will come, something like that.

I am thinking about the importance of humor as a tool or manifestation of mental health. It has been in my life, anyway. I see some people seem incapable of humor. And I see that I am unable to express my humor in situations where I don’t feel safe. And now I am thinking about Robin Williams, and the tragedy of his suicide. It still haunts me. As you can see, humor is no panacea, but neither is anything else–drugs, medications, therapy, whatever.

What keeps us going? What keeps us striving? What keeps us creating, when the going gets tough? Is it love, genuine? Is it the Great Spirit? Is it ambition, the desire for fame? Is it just a habit, to keep moving forward? I know some people reach out to others and share their creativity and spirit, while others hide it away, or “charge for admission,” so to speak.

I think that capitalism could be killing our spirit. Not that I am a communist. I’m neither. I’m a garden variety moderate-liberal Democrat. Nothing special But so tired of political extremism tearing the country apart. It is so dangerous, when we start thinking that we have all of the answers. And so dangerous when we put one person on a pedestal and think that person is going to lead us to the doorstep of nirvana. We all have flaws. We all have struggles to content with. No one has it all together.

All I know is that music inspires me, nature inspires me, people inspire me when they shed their masks and let others in in a genuine way. Which brings me back to the subject of humor. When we can share unselfconscious humor with another, this suggests that a level of trust has been achieved with that person. Real laughter, when it comes, is a gift and is cleansing of the soul and can heal a relationship.

Which brings me back to Robin Williams. God, what could have led him to the point where he had to kill himself? Like so many others, I grew to love him, though I never met him in person. But somehow his spirit lives inside me. Not that he had all of the answers, obviously. But I feel that he manifested true compassion. Along with sadness. I can see that. Peace, brothers and sisters…

%d bloggers like this: