it's cool to read your post . . . and the ensuing debate :) I had this flash the other day that joy or despair is a choice. I might be thinking: he hates me and I'm running out of money and what will I do and where will I go? but this is all of the swirl inside of my head, my take on things that is also based on how much caffeine I had today and did I eat sugar right before bed and am I PMSing and do I have a set list of things to do today that i feel focused around. But behind all this are the facts - he didn't call, they didn't book the job, I still have money in the bank. And as long as I look at the facts, keep going back to those, and then ask myself: is there action I can take? and then take it. To me, that is gnawing (taking action) on the leg (facts) to escape the trap (aimless emotionally charged thought).

Love this spicy discussion, Keri!

A very interesting quote...

In my mind, despair is a form of paralysis. It is a desire for things to be different than they are, yet feeling unable to change the situation, to the point of hopelessness.

Yet....even in hopelessness, some hope must exist. How can we feel hopeless if we don't even begin to cling to some form of hope for change, or the power and ability to make those changes? Without hope, it is truly resignation, and then even hopelessness vanishes.

Despair is an opportunity, a crossroads, a choice. One can choose to resign to the present situation, or one can choose to hope for a better tomorrow and work towards that end. Neither choice is bad nor good, but despair is simply being stuck.

Making analogies to animals in traps is silly. No, the animal doesn't know despair, but neither does it know hope, faith, trust, love, joy, compassion....are you willing to throw these away too in order to merely survive like an animal?

Sisyphus rolls the rock uphill for all eternity, and yet, is unable to get it to the top. It will always roll back down before he can finish. He continues to walk back down the hill towards the rock, fully aware that he can never complete his task....yet he continues to do so.

Despair would be to stop and sit for all eternity in front of your rock. Hope is to roll that rock, against all odds, even in the face of absolute failure. After all, maybe this time, it will be different...

One last comment :-) I'm not sure fight or flight has anything to do with despair. Isn't it a reaction to something in the moment? So an animal caught in a trap who gnaws off it's limb isn't despairing is it? If it was despairing wouldn't it not gnaw, but simply give up all hope and wait for it's fate?

For me "sitting with" painful things is more analgous with gnawing rather than the idea of pondering. Pondering might well lead to despair. Sitting with (ie experiencing the pain or problem as it is) is about the moment. That doesn't necessarily exclude panic (sadly) but perhaps does exclude despair.

Interesting that a simple quote can lead to such a debate. I wonder what sort of debate would go on after reading the whole book? I picked up my copy of Diary of a Solitude last night and read an entry about clutter. Very timely for me just now.

Thank you for reminding me it was on my shelf.

I was laughing more at the idea of a metaphorical knawing. It would definitely embody the idea of 'keeping busy'.

I would not deny the fact that animals experience despair, panic.

Well, I didn't really mean it to be a joke. Animals most certainly *do* despair. And in despair, they resort to desperate measures. Ever been around a frightened horse? Sheer panic. Fight or flight; there's no nurturing or welcoming or embracing their fear. There is REACTION.

And if you think the animal with the foot caught in a trap is busy pondering the ways of life, I can only laugh!

Time for a reality check, folks.

ha ha ha ha ha ha

munch munch.

salt anyone?

Sitting it out, my foot. What about just gnawing off a limb? Isn't that REALLY the answer?

Keri

Thanks for your reply. I've been thinking about my comment here all day since posting it when I first woke up this morning. Worrying that I sounded very negative, which wasn't at all my intension. I suppose what I was trying to say is that there is often a rather trite belief that says something along the lines of "live in the moment and all will be well." Actually on a certain level maybe it is true - I do think it is the way to live a contented life, and authentic life, just not always a happy one.

"Sitting it out," is something I am trying hard to do. It isn't easy. Of course nor is indulging in despair.

Michael,
Some interesting thoughts. I don't think May was implying that one should try to be happy in a time of great pain, but instead try to 'sit it out'. For me the key is to accept that it is painful or difficult and then just allow it to be what it is. My normal reaction to these things is that 'it should be different', hence the despair. This puts me into a place where I am fighting 'what is', instead of just being. I think 'keeping busy with survival' is in part saying, "this sucks!", or "I am really sad right now." Sometimes just saying that is enough to pull some air back into my lungs.

Guess you've been reading my mind, Ms. Smith :). I've been passing through some heavy times as of lately - times of confusion and anguish. To think that they will pass helps me go on. I'm not worried about surviving, I'm focused on living, good and bad included. It's all I am here for.

"Nothing lasts forever but the earth and sky", as the song goes. Guess I shuold have it framed.

Not wishing to invoke the wrath of the wonderful May Sarton by disagreeing with her but many animals in long term captivity do despair. I'm not sure that living in the moment is the only answer. There has to be something in that moment to cherish too. I'm sure sometimes we don't see all there is to cherish (too busy surviving perhaps? :-) ) but is there always something good about every moment?

I do hope that's not too bleak. I know May wasn't a Polly-Anna. She suffered from ups and downs like most people and was perhaps trying to find comfort in her analogy. I do think part of living a reasonably okay life is learning to accept despair as well as happiness. Sometimes the moment isn't the best place to find ourselves in and trying to pursuade ourselves that we should be happy in it too is just another burden - one best left at the side of this long road we're on.

When my son was alive, we lived like that - surviving. But we also lived so very much in the moment and cherishing - really cherishing - every second we had together. I knew it would all end someday and I didn't want to miss any of it. It was a very difficult thing for outsiders to understand, even for other family members - they didn't understand why we weren't more focused on the future and what would happen later. We knew, in our own secret way, that all we had was now.

It was the richest, most amazing time in my life, and the most beautiful way I've ever lived.

The other comments make me wonder - what is survival?

Since the death last year of my brother (44) my mother's cancer and my own ovarian cancer, my focus has narrowed - I definitely live from day to day - but there is a richness is just 'surviving' that I never tasted when I was too consumed with future plans.

Survival for me is knitting and teaching - loving my kids, my husband, my students and my yarn.

Yes, sit it out.

But also sit with it.

Hold it tight.

Whisper to it, tell it secrets, share with it.

Open a dialogue.

Very little, very tender, very vulnerable.

TLC needed (Tender Loving Courage).

at one point in my life, i did exactly that. i'd focus on the fact that nothing was permanent. it was my thing - "this too will pass" - and i survived like that.
but to simply survive is harsh. it's not in human nature. we imbue everything we encounter with human traits and passions. so that any given event may be tragic or enlightening, mundane or epiphanic. we define the world by our perception of it and we can't help but form opinions.
the trees don't have to consider their fate as toilet paper and the fox doesn't realise it's going to end up hanging around a rich woman's neck.
but us - we imagine the worst that can happen to us. that limits us, true, but we can also imagine the best.

That quote reminds me of a movie I just saw, Touching the Void. Have you seen it? I recommend it. An amazing tale of a person putting aside fear and pain and concentrating on survival, so much so that he is reduced to an almost elemental state.

This quote also sums up why I love backpacking. Because it forces me to put aside all the clutter of the world and think of nothing but putting one foot in front of another, finding water and food and a place to sleep. Survival.