Snooze Cruise

A Poem and Post About Depression Amidst the Aimlessness of Western Life

Snooze Cruise

A sleepy soul wanders back to this body
each morning
after stretching its prism-bound light
through the night
to snooze in a sequestered snake den
all day
as a material-mind yanks puppet strings, cranks levers
every moment
convinced it's just so bloody important
the time it spends
on this and that and the other things
in life
while that slumbering soul, up from below, sends dreams
ceaselessly
to a heart that would commandeer this automatic sleepwalk
at any moment
with intentions of the purest mutiny
always waiting
to steer a course away from the West
in a heartbeat
sailing toward a land of buried treasure
long ago
planted in the soil of the soul by hands bigger than our own

Jefferdman
1/21/24

Ever since I was a child, I’ve struggled with the format of human life we play out on this planet, particularly in the Western view. Western attitudes toward life have never computed for me, and likely never will. Throughout my years, there is a feeling I’ve carried in relation to this malaise, though I’ve only recently put a proper name to it. Why did it take so long to name it? Perhaps I didn’t want to admit just how much I was impacted by the human-made world around me, as if that would be showing signs of weakness. Maybe I didn’t want to diagnose myself with a label and draw lines around what feels so uncontainable, at times ineffable. Given the nature of my problem, I certainly wasn’t about to turn myself over to the doctors of Western thought who (I assumed) would attempt to medicate me into inauthentic, soma-induced acceptance of this profane way of life.

Anyway, the name this feeling gets is Depression (something too many of us know far too much about, for all the wrong reasons). Both with and without knowing it, I’ve always done a lot of things -some constructive, others destructive- to help myself cope in this area. I personally believe we can do something about depression. We don’t need to be victims to it, and I do not view myself as a victim. I do, however, suffer from it. And while I see the suffering as something I’m experiencing and -like all experiences- it is fleeting, when I am suffering, I am suffering. It’s as simple as that. It can feel crippling and debilitating, making it difficult to take any action steps to hoist myself out. One thing I’ve found useful in helping me move beyond the suffering is to write about it. Although I hadn’t named this suffering ‘depression’ in the past, I was always aware there was a form suffering present, interfering with my life. What a blessing its been to have subliminally learned that, by virtue of the act of giving voice to these feelings, by moving them outside myself, I am committing a salubrious service for myself. I’ve never said publicly that I suffer from depression, so this post, too, is meant as a helpful, health-seeking act.

This poem (and many others) assist in moving the feeling of suffering outside my body, give it expression, while also attempting to clothe it with my flavour of unique beauty. I believe when we bring our own unique beauty into the world, we are taking part in the purpose behind all this magnificence. What is also important though, is giving voice to my valid personal outlook on the human experience. I think part of my depression has a lot to do with the stoic ‘suffer-in-silence’ attitude I’ve cultivated over the years. Throughout my twenties, I was far more vocal about my views on Western life, but my mode of communication, its temperature, wasn’t well received, and I turned myself into a misanthrope. All to often, I ended up feeling alienated and dejected in these situations, circumstances I crafted in my own hands through impatience and lack of awareness. At some point, I just shut down to avoid these additional (self-imposed) feelings of suffering, and let it all stew down inside. But the truth is, it’s OK and it’s healthy to express my true feelings. I guess I’ve learned it’s not what you say; it’s how you say it.

As for my sentiments on Western life: Frankly, it astounds me -leaves me aghast- that in this miracle of human life, in this epic cosmos of wonder, we settle for a life of such mundane aims and concerns, all plodding along in silent agreement that it’s just the way it is. I yearn for new agreements about how we can live, agreements that are conscious, shared on purpose, and that honour the miracle of life, our very existence(!!), agreements that steer us toward what truly has value here in the world; the gold of human connection and community, the glory of Nature, and a chance to participate in the miracle of Creation.

I believe if we found these better agreements (and more), we’d witness things like depression fade away, and we’d all live lives that are full, pregnant, and bursting with meaning, abound with wonder and awe. This glorious existence is just temporary and I strive to make the most of it by immersing myself fully in the experience. My greatest wish is for everyone to join me… really join me, with all we’ve got.