The Blues

I'm prone to the blues. I've described all that before. Rather than go back into it, I want to suggest, mostly to myself, a couple things that help me get moving out from under the blues.

First is family. When I get involved with the family, when I really dive in, my self-importance shrinks and an overabundance of self-importance is a lot of what leaves me blue.

Ray Charles' first album is pretty damn good medicine. Ray is so deep blue, he makes whatever I'm feeling seem shallow by comparison. Funny, as a kid, I listened to sad music when I was depressed to get myself feeling even sadder. Ray is a whole other deal. I hear hope in his blues.

Being on the couch with a cat in my lap or on my chest works too. The dog takes good care of me too, but she's not allowed on the furniture. I've been reading that cats, dogs, and humans have grown together because a purring cat or a sleeping dog means there's no danger present. The animal's better senses know trouble before we do.

One of our cats knows when something is wrong. If my daughter or I are depressed, she sits on us. If my wife is sick, she comforts her. When our other daughter is lonely, the cat befriends her.

The other cat is just an attention whore, wholly in it for herself if you ask me.

Don't stay too long on the couch. Move and create. Dinner is in the oven and moments away from being done because I chopped vegetables, rolled crust, sauteed things in a cast iron pan, put it all together and into the oven, then cleaned the kitchen. Getting something done eases the blues. Better still, I listened to Ray Charles throughout all that.

There's no cure for the blues, but I'm lighter. A cold night is falling, but the darkness is a warm blanket and the oven is hot, the warm food will soon be on the table. I'll call the family to dinner. We'll feed the animals. We will share a meal together. It's tough to stay blue around all that.