I remember a glorious epiphany I had whilst on a private water taxi from Skopelos to Skiathos. As I sliced my hand through the turquoise waters, donning my shades and head scarf, hoping for an Audrey Hepburn look, I observed the Greek chap who was operating the small boat. He spoke English with a New York drawl and was a fine looking fellow. Conversing with him, I realised a profound truth: should I ever marry, it would have to be to someone with whom I felt even freer than when single. An epiphany indeed.

So, for example, should I decide to strip naked (I'm actually quite prudish but it just seems to nail my point here) and dance around the garden in the summer rain, just because I love summer rain, my husband wouldn't fret and flap about what the neighbours might think. He would sigh, (probably wearily), and admit, 'Ah yes, there goes my Suzy.' Should I decide to slide down a banister in a public place, wave at passing aircraft or have a big rant over a rotten day he would shrug and accept it; accept me. In short, he would let me feel. He'd grasp my need for solitude too.

Whether in a depression or a 'horrible high', the clattering and clanging going on in my mind is of a different quality in sound but equally as distressing. When recovering from either, I find I'm allowed moments of tremendous clarity. Recovery from a depression (or high) can do that. It gives that part of us that has been screaming to be heard (our intuition) an attentive audience and sometimes, just sometimes, it affords sufficient silence/quiet to be heard.

It's like a huge wrecking ball made from feathers and downing coming at you from the middle distance. It hits you hard but not unpleasantly and it comes as if from nowhere.

But does it? Come from nowhere, I mean?

I feel strongly that a depression is our body's way of telling us that there's a whole lot of stuff we've not yet dealt with. If we listen closely, it can tell us where we're going wrong; what feeling/s we're failing to take care of, or worse, ignoring.

"Don't look for beauty. You must let beauty come to you. Those who look for beauty are mere journalists."- Borges

Epiphanies cannot be forced. They come from allowing the feelings; taking care of the feelings. Just as a thorny cactus can sprout a colourful flower, even the messiest of feelings can give birth to beauty.

Ah yes, give me an epiphany over a Tiffany diamond any day.

Suzy

A Moodscope member.