We are all bipolar. The difference lies in the range of the pendulum swing.

What we see when we are on top of the world and what we see when we are at the bottom of the pit

are both true faces of life:

its magic and promise and its persistent refusal to be perfect.

We are animated and ruled by two opposing forces, one for life, the other for death. Vishnu and Shiva.

Let’s focus, for now, on the nadir-bound swing of the pendulum. I didn’t bring this topic up during the winter season because I knew many people would thank me for not reminding them of the giant elephant in the empty, desolate room. Now that spring is here, an occasional mercury plunge notwithstanding, it’s perhaps not a bad idea to check out this windmill – the adversary, the adversity – in close proximity and treat it as an adventure.

I’m not a psychologist. I’m a narrator of my own thoughts, no more, no less.

The keyword or, for many, the taboo word here is depression.

People tend to react to any talk of this ‘problem’ in the same way they turn pale at the mention of tiger.

But by being depressed, you are probably closer to the true state of our being than those who are or appear to be free of any symptoms associated with depression: that ours is in essence a programmed and conditioned existence in thrall to our genetic compulsions, and is completely devoid of inherent value or purpose.

This happens when you have ‘graduated’ from the bliss of ignorance. In some sense, congratulations are in order.

When you grow tired of wallowing in the dark mire of depression, you are ready for the next step and there, you have many options.

Death is one, obviously, but hey, let’s not go down that path – just look at how perfectly each part of your body works with every other part, how ingenious the design of (for example) your eye is, how your brain processes information and generates thoughts… and how miraculous it is that your heart beats with that rhythm of cosmic march, quite independently of your volition and, if you have children, that you are able to produce adorable human bambini by just feeding yourself, having sex once in a while and doing nothing else… No, our life, our body, is just too good to throw away.

Another option is to pick a belief system that resonates with your mental vibrations and emotional needs, and embrace it wholeheartedly. And if you are game, smart and committed enough, and bipolar enough, develop it a little and create your own denomination. I’m not joking. Cult leaders are seriously bipolar, almost without exception. Having a congregation of diehard adherents provides a cosy cushion against violent mood swings.

The third option is to be engaged in quixotic conquests to keep yourself engaged with life. If you see no windmills on the horizon, invent them. They are otherwise known as adversaries, adversities and adventures. They can be enemies, competitors, politicians you don’t want to vote for, rich people you envy, actors you hate, the perfect job that always eludes you, the next spiritual height to scale or the next million you are destined to make. Or ideologies that go against your grain. We are conditioned to commit ourselves to taking on, tackling and taming them, thus losing ourselves in the process. Fighting gives us purpose, and having a purpose in life is as important as having a life.

The fourth option, equally serviceable, is the opposite of the last one and is the easiest and the hardest of them all. Let your cynical side take over: That ‘life is precious, ergo life must have a noble purpose’ is the most successful narcotic drug humanity has ever known. Nearly all of us are zonked by it, to varying degrees. It’s very deceptive because the first part of that statement, about life being precious, is a truism, so we, without thinking, accept the assertion as a package and implicitly subscribe to the second part of the statement, i.e. a noble purpose being intrinsic to life.

You can try and detox your mind of this drug’s influence by acknowledging and accepting that

EXISTENCE IS SUFFICIENT UNTO ITSELF.

Once you’ve achieved that, the rest is easy:

From moment to moment, I experience my existence, measured by my breaths, in and out

mirroring the in-breath and out-breath of The Force that drives the wheel of creation and destruction.

I ride the ebb and flow of the cosmic dance

with abandon, with fluidity, with the pendulum held in that perfect position just left of the midpoint, the position of spontaneous, visceral joy.