Letter to Depressed Artist

I was touched, recently, by a blog that a fellow artist had posted on an art site that I frequent. I wrote him a response and since it was somewhat revealing as to my new-found passions resulting in starting to write my new book "A Long Walk Home,' ... thought I would blog it to my site. The following is my response.

Hello Paul,

Having suffered severe depression all of my life as well, and similar history of being a writer and sculptor, I can relate to your life-long struggle with depression.

Ten years ago, primarily caused by an especially debilitating bout of depression and corresponding anxiety and desperation, I had decided I needed to figure things out. I took 3 years and did a 5200 mile solo cross country walk (from Miami to Seattle, via San Diego) to benefit pediatric AIDS, but primarily to see if I could break through the depression. I did not. It was, by far, the most rewarding and challenging experience of my life, but I ended the walk in even worse shape than when I started.

It has taken 10 years from the time I started the walk, to start on the book about the walk "A Long Walk Home". Many people have been hounding me, for years now, to write this book. I could not! Why? You may understand. There was no ending. Sure I walked those last few miles up to the base of the Space Needle, surrounded by incredible media, friends, supporters and family, all hailing this success. For me, it was not finished and I had definitely not found what I was looking for. In fact, I could not even realize what I was looking for until a couple months ago.

I was looking for a way of ending the relentless mental pain and suffering. Now, after 50 years of suffering and a great deal of loss surrounding this suffering (alcohol and drug self medicating, workaholism (up and down resulting in two fortunes and two total losses including a very large bankruptcy, many serious health conditions (including over 6 stents for my heart) all of which I am convinced, looking back, were subconscious suicide attempts. I have even had a few conscious suicide considerations - not actual attempts, but for many years, obsessed with thoughts of death, as a way out of the relentless suffering.

Today, unlike any other period of my life, I have found relief through a new diagnosis and treatment and feel, well, born-again would be far too shallow a description, yet I think you will understand. This help came after decades of trying and many times, giving up with little hope in-between. I was lost for so many years.

This last time that I reached out, I had gotten to the point that if 'This' didn't work,' I was seriously considering finding a way that would be a 'socially acceptable' means of checking out. Car accident, etc. I am not a suicidal-type person. Mostly I am an optimist, but again, you will understand what the torture of decades of mental suffering can do to a person. Every man has a limit. I was at my limit.

Like I said, today I could not be more grateful. Today I am free. I am alive, for the first time in 40 years. I am writing again and have many ideas for new sculptural works. This, if you knew me, would amaze you - this is nothing short of a miracle, for me. I never thought it would be possible to regain passion and purpose again.

Today, I can't wait to jump out of bed and get my day started. Again - this is an incredible Miracle for me! I am so glad that I didn't give up totally and had one grain more of hope in which to try, one more time.

God was with me all those years and now, He has delivered me. I am not a religious man, but believe me, I am NOW a every spiritual and grateful man.

If interested, you can read more about my life-long struggles and accomplishments in the BIO-Blog section of my art web site. http://www.rochonsculpture.artspan.com/mbr_bio.php

I wish for you only continued success and pray that you find relief for your depression.

Louie Rochon

Another Letter from Dad

I recently received a letter from my 86 1/2 year old father, Andre' Rochon, a brilliant man that recently moved into an assisted care facility after owning his home in Montreal for the past 3 decades. The following is our correspondence ....

Dear Louie,

I am sending a page of my Journal that I HAD to write last night. I would love your comments on it as I still am not too clear on the feelings I tried to express. I am very eager to read the new chapter of your book.

Love Dad

Monday March 12th 2007, 2.30 AM.
In the course of the last six months I have witnessed a major change in my outlook towards life. I purposely used the word witnessed because I did not search for it, I did not wish for it. It just happened and it seems in retrospect that it was quite sudden.

Six months ago I was still living in my house that I had acquired thirty two years ago. I was still strongly attached to all the worldly possessions that I had accumulated during my life time. I do not know what induced this sudden change in perspective. It seemed that I suddenly desired to live a simpler, less encumbered life. Material possessions seemed to have lost their attraction. I do not mean to say that I had stopped admiring the paintings that I had on the walls or cherishing the books that were filling my numerous bookcases. I still looked at them with great pleasure but at the same time I felt that if I was separated from them I would get the same pleasure at remembering them as I had to own them.

I am at a loss to find the proper words to express this change of perspective and even more so to explain why it happened. Sometimes I feel that Louie would be able to shed light on this situation because I think that he has experienced the same shift of emotions several times in the course of his life. Without much advanced planning I decided to sell my house and give much of my treasures to friends and people I felt would enjoy them. I never felt that I was making a mistake and would come to regret it. I seemed to be guided by a strong force that pushed me in this direction.

Some people have hinted that I should try to sell some of my possessions but this thought not only did not appeal to me but was quite unpleasant to me. I could not sell what I loved; I had to give it away and rejoice in the pleasure that I felt from the pleasure I was creating in others. The thought of selling any of the objects in my possessions not only did not appeal to me but it was even repulsive.

Some cynics might have thought that these new feelings of mine were hypocritical. I had not exactly drifted into poverty. My new apartment is comfortably furnished with many of my prized possessions and the sale of my home has provided me with enough money to last me for the rest of my life.
_________________________________________________________

Hello dad,

Regarding my impressions of your journal entry, I must start by telling you that I am filled with great joy at your newfound revelation.

It doesn't surprise me as your underlying character has always rejected material possessions as an end to the means. My life, my character was formed, with pride by your, as you often referred to it as your 'Peasant Bohemian personality' ... which I always thought was an admirable trait.

You know that my boyhood hero was Thoreau, primarily because of his beliefs about material possessions, how they own you as opposed to the illusion that we own them. The very thought of we human beings owning anything is ridiculous in and of itself. I like the philosophy of the Native Americans that lost most of their lands because they could not understand the concept of land ownership - which the white man coveted, cheated and stole from them. They believed, as I do, that we are simply stewards and furthermore, I believe this applies to anything ... People and Possessions ... we simply get to take care of them and interact with them, but we do not own them.

Eckhart Tolle, a modern day philosopher who specializes in the manifestations of ego, believes that we, primarily prevalent in the Western civilization (and I use that word 'civil-ization very loosely) have a bad habit of identifying who we are by what we 'own'.

I also love Tolle's test for egoic attachment of people, places or things ... in that all you have to do is imagine, in your mind, how you would feel if whatever it is that you wish to test, were removed from you. The more the pain, the greater the egoic attachment. He does not say that things are bad in and of itself - it's how we identify with those things that can cause the problem.
I've always loved Thoreau's quote …

"A Man is Rich in Direct Proportion to the Number of Things in Which He Can Leave Alone".

I have learned that I can enjoy someone else's property as much, if not more so than them, as I can enjoy it's beauty, form and function yet don't have to sell my time into slavery for the sole purpose of paying for it, maintaining it, insuring it, protecting it, worrying about losing it, cleaning it, etc.

I have, as you know, patterned my life after this belief, or I should say, the latter part of my life, after I woke up to this reality. I think one must experience, personally, this lesson before they truly understand it and make it a part of their belief system. No one can teach you this. You must live it, and if you are lucky, you will experience complete loss and the potential blessing associated with this loss. I say 'Potential Blessing' as I'm not saying that this lesson is automatic - I have found that it is NOT!

I have lost everything I 'owned' a number of times (people and things), only to harden my resolve in getting it right the next time and building my ownership of 'whatever' even greater, in a vain attempt to find satisfaction and peace of mind. I further believe that peace of mind is the greatest asset that a human being can acquire, and yet it is there, right in front of them all along. But, as I painfully learned for myself, you must find it yourself, if you are lucky.

I mention all this, because my impression of your recent revelation is that you have been given a great gift, the gift of peace of mind - the loss of your egoic attachment to your things. Whether you lost your things or not is irrelevant; it's that you lost your attachment to you things that has set you free. You have just recently realized, personally, that you are NOT your things, that you are a full and complete human being, exactly as you are, right here and right now, and you always have been.
There is another saying that I am quite fond of …

"Enough is Never Enough, Until You ARE Enough"

... and I believe that until we can accept ourselves as enough, in the present moment, just as we are, we'll always chase down people, places and things for our fulfillment and ultimately, disillusionment.

Tolle's primary teaching is that of Spiritual Enlightenment. This is a big word, but he breaks it down as follows: Spiritual Enlightenment is nothing more than higher consciousness (another big word) yet higher consciousness is nothing more than Presence and Presence is nothing more than Be-ing present, right here - right now - at this very moment in time. Everything else, which is where we spend most of our lives, is obsession with either the past or the future. As Tolle puts it so eloquently...

“To Be identified with your mind is to be
trapped in time: the compulsion to live
almost exclusively through memory and anticipation.
This creates an endless preoccupation with past and future
and an unwillingness to honor and acknowledge the
present moment and allow it to be.
The compulsion arises because the past gives you
an identity and the future holds the promise of salvation,
of fulfillment in whatever form.
Both are illusions.”

I am so happy for you dad. You are now free and able to truly en-joy your life, without any encumbrances, drink in and savor the sweetness of your memories as well truly embrace those new memories that you will make, in the present moment.

I love you Dad.

Louie

Gratitude for Life - Escape from Insanity.

I am so grateful that this last stand, this last attempt at trying, doubting any possibility of real change, is paying off in spades - a new life, a new pair of glasses, HOPE ... for the first time in decades ... smile on my face and a calmness. Balance, the dreaded 'B' word is creeping back into my life, slowly but surely.

These days, it's not about coping, clawing my way through hell each day, fighting for each second to simply breath in and out, watching the seconds crawl by until that sacred inner sanctuary time - after 8:00 pm, when I could socially acceptably slither back into my cave and relax, basking in the comfort and sick safety of my aloneness - my self imprisoned retreat, and not have to do the excruciatingly hard work of pretending to the world, that I am OK, so that I don't call attention to my inner suffering, always fearful that someone, well intentioned or not, would add even more pressure to an already impossibly explosive pressure situation, threatening to add that last straw that would plunge me into the very depths of hell - insanity, a world where my greatest fears would envelope me, choking the last breath out of me, allowing the inevitable result of the last gasp of hope - gone, resigning all that is and was me. Insanity - my greatest fear.

This climb out of darkness, this reprieve from mental illness, is nothing short of a miracle, for me. I look back, even a few months and can hardly believe what I am reading. Who was this person, bleeding words onto those pages, purging his soul of that heavy, dark, cold and hopeless state of mind, body and spirit? My God, it was me. It is me. It is a chapter in a long life of inner suffering that is every bit a part of who I am, now.

Looking back, as painful as it is, clearly shows me that this suffering was a critical element in the transmutation of the person I have become. I am a more compassionate, loving, accepting and non-judgmental person. Gratitude is my prevalent mood, and how could it be anything else, rescued from a world a endless emotional pain and suffering - insanity itself.

The greatest gift of all - Life itself. Born again, or perhaps better said 'Born' ... period!

Journaling these thoughts in my daily entries, I have decided, after re-reading these last few paragraphs, that I will cut and paste this into a new blog, to share with my world, the world, and perhaps further good can come from my pain.

This writing, this daily 'good dog' and the blog is a form of healing, for me. It is a way of reaching out, being more transparent and allowing the love of people that have always been there, to experience the real me.

This is very much a part of my recovery - showing up and being seen after a lifetime of hiding and pretending to be someone I wasn't. Never intentional hiding, but from a deep foundation of never ending fear, that I was less than, worth-less and was doomed to be that way for the rest of my pathetic life.

I am not bitter or resentful to God that it has taken me 53 years of suffering to finally breathe in the beauty of life - I am eternally grateful that I have been given this gift of life itself. These days, my days are months. I savor each second of this new life, perhaps as a man deserted on a lonely far away island would after a lifetime of isolation.

I am alive today. Thank you God.

Letter from Dad

This is a letter I just received from my 84 year old dad, Andre Rochon, who recently moved into an assisted living facility to join his wife (after selling his home which he has lived in for decades), in Montreal, Canada. My reply is located below ...

Wednesday, February 28th

Dear Louie,

To-night, I have finally been able to relax. For months I have been stressed by a number of events that have not only perturbed my life but have totally changed my mode of living. I seemed to be looking from the outside at a new me with whom I had difficulty associating.

I will not start again to list all the events through which I have been through, not only during the last four months, but even since Jeanne (his wife who went into an assisted living home) left home to be placed in a residence a year and a half ago. To-day, I think that I have resolved the last problems associated with my move and the sale of the house.

To-night, it was pure bliss. After an excellent dinner consisting in a heaping plate of excellent muscles eaten with mayonnaise and accompanied by a glass of very ordinary wine, that nevertheless, given my mood, gave me the pleasure of a grand cru, I returned to my apartment. I settled in my Lazy Boy and for the first time in months I listened in the dark to my favorite classical music program. There was a magnificent program of Bach’s music. I gradually drifted to sleep listening to the Wedding Cantata. It is now 9 o’clock and I have awakened to the gracious marvel of an oboe concerto, another masterpiece of the same composer. I just opened my e-mail to find another masterpiece, a charming biography of Danielle (my sister).

BLISS! ..…….May it last!....... I am now going to bed with a good book until I dissolve into pleasant dreams. I hope that that this is the start of a new era.

and my reply ________________________________________________

Dear Dad,

What do I think?

I think that you have finally arrived at that place in your life in which you can absolutely and completely en-joy your life—all the grand memories as well as the not-so-grand, realizing that you have survived and now have the luxury of peace, contentment, satisfaction and gratitude for a life well spent.

I think it is as if you have collected these gems over a lifetime and now have the opportunity to be able to carefully remove them from the bag and truly enjoy them.

I think that you have made peace with your past, look forward to collecting (and savoring) a few more precious gems in the future, but most importantly—you are thoroughly experiencing the bliss of the present moment.

Yes dad, I think that I can understand your bliss and I couldn’t be happier, more grateful and honored in being able to share in your joy.

I love you dad, always have and always will.

Louie

An Awakening - Freedom from life-long Depression

From journal entry 3/07 ...

Still riding the high of no highs and no lows - VERY strange sensation, just kind of going about doing your life - VERY strange! But I gotta say, I kind of like it. Never thought I would or could. I used to always compare people that just went about doing life in balance to mediocricy, condemning it for it's lack of passion and spark, when now looking back, seems like simply another means of coping, explaining away my lack of being able to live balanced, stuck in that hyper or dead state.

I really can't describe what it is I'm feeling - kind of like waking up yet not remembering what it was ever like to be awake before I fell asleep - I guess you could say it's more like being born again, with little memory of the first life. All I can do is go about living in it, one day at a time yet without the enormous handicap of anxiety and depression to cope with, as if a ten ton monkey just jumped off my back. It's like smiling at the world for the first few times after you have just had your braces taken off - a little scared, a little self conscious, feeling as if the whole world will notice that you are the new kid in the class and that they MUST all be staring but a harder look and you see, they don't even notice - which makes me think, how good I have become at pretending to blend in, as if I was apart of 'them'. More coping skills to mask a life snuffing illness.

A lot of world to rediscover. New feelings. New sensations and I mean - brand spanking new!

Perhaps it is this immediate contrast that is so difficult to adjust to - as if you were hidden in a cave for 50 years and you got used to this cave and almost suddenly - this bright light shines on you and you leave this cave, to find a entirely new world, a world that you physically resided in, yet weren't apart of, a world that makes no sense when considering old sensitivities. A world worth adjusting to.

Hard to trust what is real, and having faith that it may last - maybe, hope-fully. I can't imagine the horror of having to go back into that dark, choking hell, having tasted the fresh air of freedom. I can't imagine the horror. I can't. I won't. I will only move forward, one day at a time, the same way I have managed to survive 50 years, doing the best I can with what I have to work with and be grateful that today, I have been given the gift of life.

I've earned this gift - I've paid the price, for freedom, for life. I want to stay.