Sometimes I carry my sadness like a mom carrying her cherished newborn to Whole Foods.
Sometimes the papoose is strapped to my back and sometimes it's tied to my chest so my heart can do childcare while I go through the day pretending that I'm a fully functioning adult.
But none of us really are. When it comes to emotions, we're all semi-pros in the fantasy league of life.
Every morning I check my emotional temperature to gauge my percentage of sadness vs contentment and I adjust my inner core like my Uncle Murray adjusts his belt after his third Thanksgiving slice of pumpkin pie.
Sadness often feels like a lingering cold to me. It's like my soul has a mean case of the sniffles. It's not as debilitating as full blown depression which is basically the flu times pneumonia times ten.
No, sadness is the room mate that you just have to learn to live with and no matter how much your want to eject them from your room, it's just not going to work.
What our parents teach us is to just get over it. Look how much you have to be happy about. But I always sense that sadness is not really the enemy that most of us think it is.
I think of it as a kind of Anne Sullivan teacher, with little black glasses and long black dress waiting day after day after day to find a way to teach me how to sign the word "water."
I know that most of the time I treat my sadness like it was the gym. I think of a million reasons not to go there.
But when you finally go, man does it ever feel great. You HEAR your heart, FEEL your breath and then the endorphins come roaring into town like a small town circus parade complete with clowns, jugglers and pretty baton twirling girls in hardly there, sparkly, for sequined costumes.
When you feel that high all you can think is: man do I ever want to run away to the circus.
And then life comes pounding on your door like your tyrannical mother when she thinks she smells pot smoke in your room.
So my equally sad friends, the answer to dealing with sadness is effort. It's up to you how long you let it float around your dark heart sea like a long discarded coke bottle. But here's the thing: inside that coke bottle is a message just for you. If there is a God he just may have the power, to guide you to that little note which just may have been written in his very own hand. And no matter where you live or what language you speak what is inscribed always says the same thing: You are loved.
Love is a very hard gift to receive because the minute someone wants to bestow it on us, we immediately in the moment, assess both it's intrinsic value to us in direct proportion to just how much we think we really deserve it.
That is called judgement.
And the judge sitting at that particular bench is a composite of every single person who has ever made you feel bad in your life: your mother, father, sister, cruel teacher or borderline personality disorder girlfriend,
In that moment they become the CHORUS OF YOUR LIFE with the ability to wipe out ALL the good feelings that you do indeed richly deserve and replace them with a litany of indictments and then they coil backwards ready to persecute you with all the fire and brimstone they got.
This is why our lives feel messy. We just spend so much time either sitting with the prosecution or with the defense and running back and forth from table to table is just exhausting.
So be like the couple in Adam's Rib and find a way to talk to the loving part of yourself underneath one of the court room tables.
One last mistake to discuss: looking for love in all the wrong desperate places like suddenly finding someone whose job you should be doing is one big Harry Potter magical wand or right/left Tinder swipe away.
But here's the thing: Relationships are just a meeting of the messes with occasional moments of genuine bliss.
Food will not save you. A closet full of clothes that you will never, ever wear will not save you. Drugs will not save you.
They will temporarily medicate you until the feelings return.
So for those of your who are tortured, suicidal or just plain scared here is my remedy for you:
Take long walks. Smile and be engaged by drunk happy toddlers Greet all dogs like you are the official canine ambassador of your neighborhood. (Have you ever noticed that dogs only seem to feel sadness when you are gone? That is because they KNOW how valuable you are and cannot wait to tell you! Every tail wag is code for I LOVE YOU MAN. I often wish that people, women in particular, came with tails attached so I could figure out exactly what they hell they are really thinking and feeling).
Listen to music that has always moved you. Music after all, it's the time machine of our lives that can transport you without having to wait for the train to arrive or for the plane to take off.
And most importantly realize that being alone is an illusion created by the TV industry which is the false prophet of joy. What they have to offer always comes with a price, whether it's cable bills that are longer than the US Constitution or commercials where most actors act like they are borderline retarded which has always made me suspect about buying any product that makes you act and feel like a fool.
The "i" in the iphone is lower case. Do you not get it?
So go forth and capitalize yourself. Don't believe a thing you are saying, stop distracting yourself with excuses and go live your life like you are a returned soldier running towards the child that he has never seen, with wide open arms.
On your mark, get ready.
Go.