No SSRIs? Cry, Cry, Cry

Things that make me cry now that I’m off SSRI antidepressants: pretty much any song in a minor chord, poetry, playing piano, the ice cream truck going by and reminding me of childhood, art.

I’ve been crying in some Zoom meetings as I wrap up my final weeks as a highly paid and highly burned-out copywriter to jump into the unknown, following my dharma with no real income stream lined up. I’ve always had something lined up. I’ve always been stable and responsible and reliable, having had only two jobs in the past 19 years.

But I’m a wild animal. And each meeting destroys my soul a little more.

One of my yoga teachers, Hansa, says if you don’t follow your dharma (true purpose/duty), you court chaos. If you do follow your dharma, the universe will support you. Here are my intentions as I jump off this cliff, trusting I will be caught: I will be part of a mass remembering that we aren’t machines built to toil under capitalism but are unbound awareness experiencing form. I’ll do this by guiding mushroom journeys, providing microdose coaching, teaching more yoga and facilitating more retreats and ceremonies. I will connect with nature deeply and spend time with the beings I love most. I will write another album with my band. I will teach more piano to kids. My words and music and presence will resonate with people who want to remember with me.

As I follow my dharma and share what I love and give freely and naturally express myself without limits, I open myself to receive in the sacred cycle of reciprocity.

And maybe I cry more along the way, and maybe it makes some people uncomfortable. But it no longer makes me uncomfortable because it’s all part of my journey to remember what I really am.

Re-reading: “This Perfect Day” by Ira Levin

Playing: “Perfect Day” by Lou Reed