Friday, June 1, 2007

Decided to freshen the masthead. Think it'll do?

I heard a TV news segment this week about the rise of depression, and that got me thinking. My sister used to work in the Walgreen's pharmacy, where she says that she filled more prescriptions for anti-depression, anti-anxiety, sleep medication and Viagra BY FAR than any other meds. Not Lipitor. Not amoxicillin. Not Tylenol 3. Seems that the most popular prescriptions are not to biologically sustain life but improve the perception of one's life (a little pill doesn't change the circumstances, just the way we see the circumstances).

I completely understand that trying times warrant a little sleep aid or maybe a check on a whacked-out chemical imbalance, but sometimes changing our attitudes or breaking a cycle of negative emotional thinking can pack more of a wallop than a pill. Yet, changing our attitudes—developing our souls and psyches—is much, much more difficult work. The world is a tormented sphere; it takes effort to live with joy, effort to change my ugly habits. It's much easier for me to scowl at a rude driver than to smile at him.

Any truly joyous person you know could probably tell you a tearful, personal story of heartbreak and desperation, a story that could have kept him or her mired in misery. Somehow that person has made the effort to seek joy. So fascinating.

I hear a lot about the treatment of clinical depression, but I've never heard a word about treatment for clinical cheerfulness. The antithesis of depression is not nearly as prevalent, is it? Why is that? For example, not enough blood pressure? Problem. Too much blood pressure? Problem. Not so with the idea of the blues. No one ever has a problem with a case of the pinks. And I've never heard anyone apologize for having a happy day.

This weekend Chad & I and his family are participating in an American Heart Association walk in St. Joseph, Missouri. We're honoring his dear Auntie Ann who suffered a fatal, massive heart attack last April at the prime age of 53. She nobly worked as a nurse delivering bundles of joy in the maternity ward of the local hospital. She married the love of her life, raised four vivacious children, kept the faith come what may and loved on all six of her grandchildren. In the short time I had the privilege to know her, she, herself, was a bundle of joy to me, an example of a woman who made the effort.

4 comments:

Karis Morrow said...

One thing that used to always drive me crazy about my mom was whenever we were complaining about someone who had done something mean, illegal, immoral, etc. she always said, "Now, Karis, you should say a prayer for them because happy people don't act like that." Man, I miss my mom!
Hugs from vivacious child #2,
Karis

motherof2 said...

Megan, I have to stand up and applaud you for a moment..you have shown the most courageous optimism I may have ever witnessed. No, really. Even through the most difficult parts of narrating the blog, you saw the good. Myself tempted to be depressed and defeated after partaking in this journey with you all. You stopped me several days with your hope extended. I once heard that happiness is 10% circumstance and 90% response to circumstance. I have been pondering the "something different" post ever since you first wrote it. Part of the something different for me was the "at least" factor to my other losses. You know what I mean? It seems I could always find something to say "at least" about. At least they were older, at least they didn't suffer, etc..I didn't have one for Kyrie. It almost made this world unbearable and why bother with it? Until i caught your contagious optimism! I can face tomorrow if I can make my own "at least!" Someday I will wake up and say AT LEAST I quit being consumed by temporal living and learned what mattered in life, AT LEAST I did something about it. And what if someday Kyrie's foundation helps to raise the survival rate by 30, 40, 50%! And what if more people are comforted by the hand of God or are introduced to Him for the first time because of Kyrie's sweet life!Then we will have our "at least."

That being said, sadness will linger for me, knowing I do not have the control that I thought i did. And no amount of prayer can change all circumstances. My friend Kristi and I had dinner the other night ( she lost her sister to a sarcoma at the tender age of 5), and we started to cry thinking of Kyrie and Kristi's sister, Tracy. In the same sentence we smiled as we discussed what we were going to do about it. We are going to make a difference somewhere in someone. We are determined to create an "at least" for both these girls. And it's going to be good! Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, Megan for your inspiration in this blog.

ksfaith said...

I love the new banner Megan!! Thanks for sharing your thoughts with us, for all the hard work you are putting into the foundation, and for encouraging others to continue doing good. Go Kyrie Go!!

joyce said...

I read your blog and I am so thankful for you and that you have continued to blog. I have gained from it and just want to thank you.