examining the blurred line between surrender and depression
This title, Why Bother, even describes how I’m feeling in this moment as I attempt to put these thoughts in writing. On one hand I’m sick to death of my own inner voice. On the other hand, I know I have friends, colleagues, clients and students who might share these sentiments. Is this just what happens as we approach our sixties or is there something more afoot?
In short (who am I kidding, I’m never short with my words), I have arrived at a place in my life where daily I’m faced with the question, “Why Bother?” while also acknowledging a deep sense of letting go combined with an even deeper sense of surrendering to what is (or what seems to be). Some might call it acceptance. Others might accuse me of being depressed. Yes? No? Maybe so? Does it even matter what we call it when it just simply is?
For the vast majority of my almost sixty years, I have worked my butt off! As a child, I pursued academics with two specific goals in mind: to become class valedictorian and to get into the college of my choice where I would pursue Engineering just like my dad. In the end, I achieved neither, but I worked hard in pursuit of those goals. In college I did the same. I worked hard, studied, hard, all with an end-goal in mind – get a good job that makes lots of money. Again, none of these goals panned out, but not for lack of trying.
Somewhere around 1994, I experienced a profound change of direction and found myself called into what I believed to be my life purpose and mission. I pushed myself in my studies. I developed opportunities to put my learning into actions. I gained respect in my field and eventually landed a job that I planned to pursue to the highest rank possible for a woman working in the Church – Parish Director. As these goals began to bear fruit, the rug was violently pulled out from under me and I found myself again, on another path.
We plan and God laughs!
Before going on about career stuff, I must also acknowledge my marriage. I had a vision. I had goals. I worked my ever-loving ass off to make the impossible succeed. I did not fail -but the marriage did. Again, not for lack of trying!
Then there’s my kids – yeah – I won at that. No, it’s not a contest, but I can confidently acknowledge the role I played in supporting my children in being the absolute best versions of themselves as they could possibly be. No, I wasn’t perfect. I sometimes lost my temper. I occasionally yelled at my kids. My anxiety often got the best of me. I’m sure they are carrying around conditioned thoughts or behaviors influenced by my own unhealed wounds. BUT, I look at them today and I could not be more proud – of them, and myself for my attempts at loving them into being who they are today. In this I can say I succeeded.
Back to the career stuff – without boring you with the details about which I’m sick of speaking – I worked hard, really hard, at what I understood to be my mission and purpose, and worked even more vigorously at it after the Church rug got pulled out from beneath me. I pursued further education. I voraciously consumed books on personal development, grief, and shadow work, etc. all while building, promoting, and managing my own business offering resources and support for individual self-actualization.
- I wrote and published books. Eleven to be exact.
- I created and facilitated over 30 courses in personal development – both in-person and eventually online.
- I worked with countless students and clients who felt called to pursue their own inner work.
- I networked with and collaborated with other people in the field in support of our shared mutual growth.
- I penned thousands of blog posts to support the visibility of my work and to educate and inspire readers.
- I wrote for myself and was guest writer for many online and hard-copy publications.
- I put SEO practice into my work.
- I did what I was told to do by various so-called experts.
- I gathered a strategic team to help support a necessary rebranding.
- Speaking of rebranding – I’ve done that too many times to mention.
- I believed in the promises offered to me by influential people in the field to “help make my business successful.”
Since 2003, I have done all this. I’m grateful for all those who received from the gifts I shared in the world. I acknowledge the benefit my sharing has been for many. I’m humbled by the relationships that have blossomed out of the simple act of me sharing myself in the world.
Yes, great good has come from thirty years of pursuit. And yet, I have nothing of a material nature to show for all my hard work. I have zero savings. No investments. I own nothing but my car and the contents of my apartment. To heap on additional frustration, as of 2020, my work, my passion, my mission, my business has all but died. Yes, there have been a few new students and clients popping up from time to time along with the return of those with whom I hadn’t work in years. But for the most part – not much to nothing has been happening.
At some point in the last several years, I have been forced to increasingly acknowledge that what I thought was my mission and purpose is over. It’s complete. Perhaps all I pursued was simply for my own sake and those clients and students were only along for the ride (as one of my Zen friends reminds, “We’re all just here in our own sit.”) I sometimes wonder if the search for and pursuit of meaning and purpose is simply an illusion that feeds our big fat egos.
But I’m really good at what I do/did. There was a passion that drove me. My gifts became enlivened and additional gifts were discovered, cultivated, and shared. St. Paul says this is what we should be doing – using our own unique gifts in support of the mission of love. I’ve done all that.
And yet…..and yet…..what do we do when there is nothing left? No one coming forth to receive our gifts. No inspiration to create anything new. No energy or excitement about diving back in to try reviving that which is already dead.
I got nothing. I’m spent. I have nothing more inside of me to promote, advertise, or feed my business – and at this point I wonder, “Why bother?” I’ve done all I can. Perhaps it’s lived out its life and that life has come to an end. Maybe it’s time to hand the baton to the young ones who still have the energy to start a new life.
I do not. I’m done pushing that boulder up the hill only to have it roll back down over my own dying body. I’m tired. I’m spent. One some days I feel defeated, but mostly I feel resigned. In spite of all my efforts, nothing can reverse the direction of a dying tide. It is what it is. I did what I felt called to do. I ministered to those who found their way to me. I gave my best effort and brought my best self forth. Some enjoyed the benefits of my sharing. Others found their way to another path. Some gave up the work for reasons I can only guess. Some turned away because it was easier to blame me than to face their own demons and do the deep inner work of personal healing and transformation. And I was there for it all.
So what happens now? I have a part-time job that has its frustrations but at least it helps me to pay the bills. Beyond that, I’m not sure I care. Not because I’m depressed, but because if there is one thing I’ve learned in the 59+ year journey is that WE ARE NOT IN CHARGE! Some other force is driving the boat and we can either exhaust ourselves fighting against it or go along for the ride. At almost sixty, I’m choosing to go along for the ride because any other choice is futile. This is where the “Why bother” comes in. In going along for the ride (surrendering/accepting), there’s nothing left to do, only something to be. The something I choose to be is peaceful, living with ease, gently, lovingly, and with kindness toward myself and others – or as one friend recently shared: “There is nothing more to do other than to be that which cannot be seen,” which as it turns out might just be a fancy way of saying, “Why bother?”
Lauri Ann Lumby 