rounding the bend
by Elouise
rounding the bend
tiny gold leaves lie scattered
on dark damp asphalt
* * *
It’s Monday, Labor Day, two years ago. I’m out for an early morning walk. It rained overnight and it’s still dripping and overcast. But I’m restless for a walk. Like the weather, my mood is unsettled.
The day before, late in the afternoon, I was so distressed that I sat down and began writing nonstop in my journal. Here are a few excerpts that capture my mood:
Fear, anxiety, teary, scared of depression, scared about [my] eyes and my appointment this week with the eye doctor. Distracted, unfocused, feeling I’ve ‘wasted my time today.’ What have I done? Church, cooked kale, washed dishes, read news articles, searched for and copied good eye exercises, took a nap—longer than I wanted to, did Bible reading, frittered away my day! The last phrase says it all in terms of my feelings….
Where is my focus? My mind goes to writing and reading about [depression] and how deeply this has infected . . .my family and my growing up years—a silent reality—unacknowledged and, for years, undiagnosed….
I probably feel a bit sorry for myself right now. Definitely a bit crabby and out of sorts. H.A.L.T. Hungry? Yes. Angry? Yes! Lonely? Yes. Tired? Yes! Tired of the same old up and down swings of ‘nearly normal’ even ‘upbeat,’ and not normal, downbeat/downward spiral. It feels as though I’ve made no progress, am stuck in more of the same old [you-know-what]—and it just keeps getting deeper….
It’s 5:39. I’m hungry. I need food. Now! No matter how I’m feeling about other things. God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. Amen.
The next day, all this and more is on my mind as I walk along, saying a few choice things to God and tearing up as I walk.
On my way back home, I round the bend and there they are. Perfectly gorgeous tiny oval-shaped golden-yellow leaves. Not more than two dozen. Sparkling against the dark, freshly laid asphalt.
A little sign. A bit of food for my whole self. I still see them in my mind’s eye and smell the damp, clean air. Gold dust from heaven. A harbinger of better days to come.
By the time I get home, the haiku above has already taken shape in my mind. A benchmark of more than the changing seasons.
* * * * *
Haiku written 3 September 2012
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 1 October 2014
Telling the Truth 
Beauty. One writer put it that beauty is like the trace elements in our bodies – we cannot live without it (them). It is remarkable that God’s still small voice sometimes come through his physical creation, an antidote to the undertow that depression brings. Or perhaps a life preserver when the undertow threatens to pull one out to sea. The shackles of depression will one day be undone, and it will be none too soon. Blessings, dear sister.
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Thanks, Meg. I love the line about beauty being like trace elements in our bodies. I also agree that physical creation gets through in ways other things don’t. A vision of what God sees us in us? I’m just back from a late afternoon early fall walk. Spectacular!
Elouise
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Thank you, Elouise, for sharing your feelings that day of aimlessness and frustration. It reminds us (your readers) that we’re not alone in feeling that way sometimes and attempting to cope with it as best we can. Thank you as well for sharing the wonderful moment when the beauty of the leaves lifted your spirits.
And thank you, Meg, for those remarks about Beauty and God’s Creation. Such true words.
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You’re so welcome. I appreciate your comment about not being alone. Finding others who’ve been through days like this is comforting and strangely encouraging. Every now and then I feel like a newbie to the human race!
Elouise
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What a beautiful haiku you’ve given us today. You are so honest about your depression and various other issues such as your eyes. I’m so sorry you struggle with these, but please know that so many others do as well. Depression can grab you by the throat and hold you close and then suddenly release you. You’ve turned your emotions into the wonder of finding those small golden leaves waiting ’round the bend. I love that imagery and metaphor, Eloise.
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Mary, Thank you for your kind, supportive comments. Yes, so many others struggle. I’m grateful for this outlet that allows me to make visible not just the struggle, but the wonder that strangely accompanies it. I’m also grateful for readers just like you!
Elouise
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