Artistic Temperament

Hans Christian Andersen, Charles Dickens, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Henrick Ibsen, Sylvia Plath, Robert Lewis Stevenson, Hunter Thompson, Mark Twain, Virginia Woolf.

This is only a short, partial list of writers who struggled with psychiatric disorders such as depression and bipolar disorder. There are many artists, writers and composers who suffered from mental illness. Some committed suicide. In her book Touched with Fire: Manic-Depressive Illness and the Artistic Temperament, Kay Redfield Jamison tackles the subject at length.

I have loved to read for as long as I can remember. I don't read as much for pleasure as I used to, but still this year I have read Walter Isaacson's excellent book Steve Jobs, E.L. James' Fifty Shades of Grey,  The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, and I'm halfway through Fair Maiden by Joyce Carol Oates. I also have been reading some poetry online by the brilliant Anaïs Nin.

It makes me sad that those who gave me so much were themselves so troubled. That those who gave me so many hours of happy reading were not happy themselves. That those who enriched my life, in some cases made the choice to end theirs.

Today we understand diseases of the mind much better, and there are interventions and medication available now that were not back in the day when some of these brilliant artists lived. The ability to create and express oneself is a priceless gift. It should never come at such a high cost.

Susan

"What the Water Gave Me" written by Florence Welch and Francis White

A Christmas to Call Your Own

It is, as the song tells us, the most wonderful time of the year. Except when it's not. Christmas can be a stressful time. The financial pressures of buying gifts can be too much for people who are barely getting by. The sadness of that first Christmas after a loved one passes away. The pressure applied by family members who want you to be in three different cities on Christmas day. The stress women put on themselves to have the perfect meal, the perfectly set table, the perfect Christmas tree. Our culture sets the bar really high for merriment and jolliness, and feeling neither merry nor jolly, we decide there must be something wrong with us.

Like all things in life, Christmas is what you make it to be. It is completely open to your own unique interpretation of it. When you take away the expectation of what you think it should be, because your parents did it a certain way, or your culture celebrates it a certain way, you can begin to make Christmas truly your own. I personally don't celebrate the religious aspects of the holiday, but I adore Christmas. A Hindu woman I met is blending our American Christmas into her life and ethnicity. She started out doing it for her children, so they would have a tree and presents and Santa Claus like the other kids, but she is really finding joy in it for herself as well.

What is Christmas to me? The magical fantasy of Charles Dickens and Charles Schulz. Red and green and blue and silver. The tinsel in the carpet and the raw cookie dough on my tongue. Shopping for gifts for my grandkids: getting them what they want and not what I think would be the most fun for me to play with. Remembering all the people, near and far, who are dear to me. Believing, really believing, in peace on earth and good will to men. Maybe not throughout the world (not yet) but making it a reality in my own life. Hearing Elvis sing "Blue Christmas" and watching innumerable you tube videos of "I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas."

There is no perfect Christmas. It doesn't exist, no matter how much money you spend or how much stress you put yourself under. You will never have the perfect Christmas. But you can have a Christmas that is perfect for you.

Susan