Yesterday, in order to change my mood, I decided to visit Will Rogers State Park, one of the magical places in Los Angeles that reminds me why we continue living here.
Although I had intended to take a hike into the mountains so I could see the coast, once I sat on a wooden rocking chair on the porch and started writing, I didn't feel like moving. As I looked out on the lawn, I remembered my childhood--oh so many years ago--when my mother, father, brother, sister, grandmother, and I used to picnic in the park on a Sunday afternoon.
I began writing a poem about my grandmother when I heard the clop clop clopping of hooves on the driveway. It took a few minutes to register and when I looked up, I saw a man on a horse walking right up the middle of the lawn where we used to sit.
An hour later, when the sun was no longer keeping me warm, I moved to a bench and table in the picnic area, and continued writing. Again, I heard a noise, and looked up. This time it was a deer eating grass about 20 feet away. He'd scampered down the mountain while I wasn't looking. And a few minutes later, his mother and siblings joined him.
All in all, it was a glorious day. While I'm not always sure what my life's purpose is, or how to end a depressive episode, I do have these wonderful family memories to sustain me, an ability to experience great joy, and a deep love of nature and the outdoors!