“I wish I felt well enough to enjoy this beautiful day.” — That was my first low-mood thought of the morning… ten minutes after a strong thunder shower swept the sky clear of anything but blue. The humidity was gone, the temperature was in the high seventies and there was a cool, fresh breeze.
And here I was, somehow thinking my physical condition wasn’t up to the task of enjoying the day. The second after this thought crossed my mind, I saw it for what it was: low-mood thinking brought about by several acute sources of physical pain. There is an enormous advantage to understanding that low moods can only generate low thinking, almost none of which is likely to be true. That advantage let me see I didn’t have to believe anything I was thinking at that moment. As a result, my day turned out to be far more enjoyable than it could have been if I’d just assumed my thinking about “needing to feel better” was true.
What Low Moods Can Make Us Forget
I’m writing this several days after having written the last two paragraphs, and it’s a reminder how quickly I, or anyone, can lose sight of the built-in psychological resilience each of us was born with. As I re-read those paragraphs that resilience comes back into view. I’ve sure lost sight of it for the last few days. Unfortunately that’s often the result of intense, persistent physical pain that medicine can’t adequately address, and that’s what I’m dealing with right now.
Today is another brilliant, gorgeous day in upstate New York. We don’t get too many days like that here; low humidity, bright blue skies, a light breeze fragrant with the smell of the tiny blossoms on Linden trees. It’s another day to be enjoyed regardless of how my body feels.
Isn’t it strange that the moment my attention jumps from the pain I’m experiencing to the beauty of the day, I’m released from what feels like a mental prison? A sense of perspective frees me from the “my world is made up of pain” mindset, and I can see beyond whatever pain I’m experiencing. It’s a reminder that we can’t expect to be at our best when our thinking is focused on ourselves and what we believe to be our “problems.” I thought I’d learned that lesson! It’s one I don’t mind being reminded of over and over. Underneath the pain is all the well-being I, just like you, were born with. I just lost sight of it for a while.
If this reflection resonated with you—or you’ve been noticing your own patterns of low-mood thinking and want to explore what’s underneath—Please reach out. I work with individuals who are ready to see life from a new perspective.
You might also enjoy his earlier post, “Broken? or Just Broken Open?” , which explores how pain—when met with presence—can open us to a deeper sense of well-being.
