Thanks Be to Dog
I'm wading through another big wave of depression that visits my life periodically. This is made no easier by the fact that the summer solstice is San Francisco's unofficial first day of winter; we may as well exist in the Southern Hemisphere. The cold windy fog is not what I find disagreeable, however, but that feeling of elemental otherness, how we're not in sync with the rest of the country or the rest of the world. Mild depression mirrors this contrarian stance. It deceives you into thinking that you are all alone on this spinning hunk of rock or that the rest of humanity has something good cooking and you're prohibited from entering the kitchen. Part of this is having to hustle so much in this city and satisfy the needs of the base - or root -chakra (the one that has to do for survival). This is understandable to a certain degree but even though I feel like I'm not hurting financially (even thriving in some respects), I've been so caught up