Employing enlivening techniques against life’s problems

Jan 28, 2018 Countryman, Features / Columnists

By Dennis Nichols

I once saw a tee-shirt with the crude implication of a message – that we’d better make the most of our miserable existence on Earth before we pass off the scene. It was emblazoned clear – ‘Life’s a B***h; then you die’. Crude, but profoundly true, I suspect, for a few billion people on our planet. It possibly can apply to those of us here who find the daily grind of survival overwhelming.
Every day the average Guyanese can find something to be mad or miserable about. From blackouts to joblessness and forecasts of economic ruin, demons of despair poke their ugly heads into our lives, at home, in the workplace; even when we try to seek refuge in leisure activity or in spiritual retreat. They get inside us, corrupting our thoughts and emotions, and they will stay there unless we apply antidote to their poison. I’ve discovered some simple ‘tricks’ to help reduce or even negate their grip on our sanity, and I know others have too, so for many this is just a reminder that there are ways to fight back.
They say when life gives you a lemon, (a raw/unfair deal) make lemonade. They say when the going gets tough, the tough get going. And I say when GPL throws you a nighttime blackout, look at the stars. Although it’s a metaphor for positive thinking, I also mean it literally. I remember on one of my visits to the Essequibo Coast I did, and though it was only a brief interlude, found it to be an unexpectedly effective stress-buster. Amazed by their profusion and brightness, and thinking of the immeasurable distances that separate them from each other, and from me, I was soon filled with a sense of wonder that no power outage could dim.
And that’s just one of the techniques I have used over the years to combat my own demons of anxiety and mental confusion. Some are as simple as a smile, or the awareness of nature around us. Others may take a good deal of willpower but all are worth the effort. High on the list is the ability to not take life, or yourself, too seriously. Being aware of your human limitations and laughing at your all-too-human slip-ups is a great way to de-stress, and the gift of objectivity is one we should hold on to tenaciously.
I’ve suffered from headaches and insomnia for over 40 years. The headaches have all but disappeared; but the insomnia for some reason continues. I’ve read what the medical experts say about prolonged sleep deprivation and, based on their conclusions, by now I should be a basket case of mental degeneration, or even worse. I’m not. True, I have very bad days, for example when a sleepless night is compounded by an enervating day of distress over a seemingly intractable domestic problem, but I’m still able to function with relative normalcy.
I do remember one such day. All I seemed to want was oblivion. But I love walking, and even along Mandela Avenue where I occasionally stroll, I take the time to engage in a few surreptitious de-stressing activities. Walking in itself does my body and spirit good. And switching my focus from self to others can do wonders. That afternoon I looked at the trees along the way, observing how they stood sentinel-like against a perfectly cloudless blue sky. I listened for the unmistakable kiskadee chirp and was rewarded with an almost continuous serenade of birdsong. As several bush trucks roared by, my mind briefly wandered to gold and the fortune-seeking gold miners in our hinterland. My mood gradually improved, and by the time a roadside vendor hailed out “Countryman” and I responded “Awright” I actually meant it.
But what made my day was the sight of a chubby toddler carried by her mother smiling and waving at me as I approached them from behind, then passed by. I looked back and the little girl continued smiling and waving. Of course I returned both. I’ve recognized over the years that I have a natural affinity for children, and that simple gesture of acknowledgment between two human beings separated by age and circumstance magically lifted my spirits. By the time I reached the Cultural Centre, my heart was lightened considerably, and my step had the spring and vigour of a thirty year-old.
Psychology, religion, and commonsense tell us we don’t have to let unpredictable circumstance embitter us. Apart from the diversions I have mentioned, there a hundred other things we can do to lift our spirits even as we confront life’s daily little tragedies; maybe smile at a stranger, stop and chat with a homeless person, bask in the ambience of our National Museum, the Castellani House Art Gallery, or the Carnegie Library for a few minutes during your lunch break. Or sit on the seawall and imagine as you gaze eastward that you are subliminally transported to the western shore of ‘Mother’ Africa from which so many of our foreparents were taken a few hundred years ago.
What about music, the soother of savage beasts and jangled nerves. On You Tube, for instance, there’s a simple but hauntingly beautiful rendition of one of my favourite songs ‘Unchained Melody’ by a Peruvian duo – two brothers who call themselves Inka Gold. On guitar and pan flute, their music sounds ethereal. I would close my eyes and let the melody take me up into the rarified air of the Peruvian Andes, and soon I’m soaring with the majestic condor. Machu Picchu looms. East Ruimveldt Front Road is a world away.
And then there are memories. Recalling an unexpected gesture of kindness or how someone dealt with unanticipated adversity can give you that extra bit of drive to make it through the day. My storehouse of memories include my friend ‘Nancy’ in the North West leaving his bed at two a.m. to take my wife and I to catch the Georgetown-bound ferry at Kumaka, free of charge, on several occasions. And my sister, dying from cancer, reaching out a feeble hand to touch my face, comforting me even as she struggled with every breath, just three days before she passed away.
But with all that and more, life goes on. Of course the problems are still there, but somehow after employing the aforementioned enlivening techniques, they seem less harsh, less threatening, and much less likely to push you over the edge.