A State of Mind (as I rode through 8 states)
I read a NY Times article about languishing, the forlorn stepchild of depression. If depression is the valley then languishing is the Slough of Despond (see Pilgrim’s Progress) both are no fun. According to the article “languishing dulls your motivation, disrupts your ability to focus.” It is described as the absence of well-being.
Last year around this time after 6 weeks of intense lockdown I was wading through that swamp. Aimless. Lost. Without hope.
It was then I decided I would take off on my bike and ride to the Pacific coast in Oregon. People say: You’re so brave! So athletic! Little do they realize: I was so desperate. For something, out there, beyond my reach. I wanted to snatch back the year I couldn’t have and regain a sense of control, a bit of well-being. I needed to feel like me.
More from the article:
So what can we do about it? A concept called “flow” may be an antidote to languishing. Flow is that elusive state of absorption in a meaningful challenge or a momentary bond, where your sense of time, place and self melts away. During the early days of the pandemic, the best predictor of well-being wasn’t optimism or mindfulness — it was flow. People who became more immersed in their projects managed to avoid languishing and maintained their prepandemic happiness.
As drastic as it sounds: I needed a challenge, something sharp to poke myself awake and prove to myself I was still alive, like the child who holds his finger above the flame of the candle. It hurt, but the realness of it all made me happy. And exhausted. I was able to throw off the Slough of Despond, the Blanket of Despair, the . . . you get it, extinguish the languish.
I can’t tell you what I thought about all those hours in the saddle as I turned the pedal over and over as I climbed uphill or into the wind; I was too busy being absorbed into a mental and esoteric flow, where I was displaced from my condition by another state of mind.
Last year around this time after 6 weeks of intense lockdown I was wading through that swamp. Aimless. Lost. Without hope.
It was then I decided I would take off on my bike and ride to the Pacific coast in Oregon. People say: You’re so brave! So athletic! Little do they realize: I was so desperate. For something, out there, beyond my reach. I wanted to snatch back the year I couldn’t have and regain a sense of control, a bit of well-being. I needed to feel like me.
More from the article:
So what can we do about it? A concept called “flow” may be an antidote to languishing. Flow is that elusive state of absorption in a meaningful challenge or a momentary bond, where your sense of time, place and self melts away. During the early days of the pandemic, the best predictor of well-being wasn’t optimism or mindfulness — it was flow. People who became more immersed in their projects managed to avoid languishing and maintained their prepandemic happiness.
As drastic as it sounds: I needed a challenge, something sharp to poke myself awake and prove to myself I was still alive, like the child who holds his finger above the flame of the candle. It hurt, but the realness of it all made me happy. And exhausted. I was able to throw off the Slough of Despond, the Blanket of Despair, the . . . you get it, extinguish the languish.
I can’t tell you what I thought about all those hours in the saddle as I turned the pedal over and over as I climbed uphill or into the wind; I was too busy being absorbed into a mental and esoteric flow, where I was displaced from my condition by another state of mind.
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