Essays About


By a confused instinct, depressed people often overeat. Their mind is empty and hungry, but the only food they have is for the body. The body gets fat because the soul is suffering a famine.

My mornings begin with fifteen minutes of depression. Startled from slumber's nothingness by my alarm, I see what I must do today, but not why I must do it. My mind is as calm as a Buddha's, examining my planned activities with passionless clarity, surveying life without yet quite belonging to it. All my business has an air of empty busyness. Toasting breakfast, commuting to work, responding to emails—all normalcy seems a costume of the preposterous.

By the time I step from my shower, my philosophic why? has given way to what order should I run my morning errands? Practicality clouds my clairvoyance, curing my depression not with hope, but a to-do list. Small thoughts rescue me from large thoughts.

Doctors recommend physical activity as a treatment for depression. Souls are like airplanes, they must keep moving in order not to crash.