It's That T.S. Eliot Time of Year Again

"April is the cruelest month, breeding lilacs out of the dead land, mixing memory and desire, stirring dull roots with spring rain."

Returning to my car after visiting Joann’s—the wonderland of craft supplies—in Palm Desert, this scene hit me in a profound way. I’d already had two conversations that morning—one in person, one on the phone—with friends who are really struggling emotionally right now. This fence illustrated what I’d heard in those talks: just trying to hang on despite being completely overwhelmed by seemingly unstoppable forces.

This season between 4 PM sunsets and allergy meds is traditionally a difficult time of year for me (and many others). Much has been written in and about this time, i.e. Eliot’s 1922 The Waste Land. However, the seasonal bleakness is currently exacerbated by various walls closing in on people—inflation and price gouging, fear of WWIII, possible economic collapse, AI taking our jobs (and then everything else), hateful “othering,” shitty politics—choose your own nightmare adventure.

As one who’s had serious bouts of the D-word since my teens—and who feels pretty good this year (thank my lucky stars)—the best I can do is to offer my time-tested go-to’s for when I feel like this poor little fence:

• Morning sunlight in your eyes: 10 minutes on a sunny day—30 minutes if it’s cloudy—as close to sunrise as possible. Seriously, watch this video.

• A daily walk—at least an hour—preferably in a park or nature.

• Aerobic exercise—enough to work up a sweat—for at least 20 minutes a day.

• Regular bedtime. Magnesium (350 mg for most) an hour before bed if you have trouble sleeping.

• No screens (iPad, phone) an hour before bed.

• Lose all doom scrolling. For real. Total social media ban. Stop reading or watching headline news, stop reading NYT breaking news emails—just turn it all off until you’re less overwhelmed. You knowing about world events has zero effect on their outcome, but huge effect on you.

• Eat as well as you can afford to.

• Do a craft project or pick up something you used to do when you were little.

• Listen to music that evokes a happy time in your life.

These are not just platitudes; they are medicine. Like all medicine, it only works if you take it.

There’s a bumper sticker that gained popularity a decade or so ago: If You’re Not Depressed, You’re Not Paying Attention. I would counter that paying too much attention causes depression. I’m not advocating for tuning out and pretending everything is fine, it’s not. But our attention is a valuable commodity that nefarious forces constantly compete for. Our job—to my slightly warped mind—is to stay well and healthy and strong, because things have the potential to get a whole lot worse. As Patti Smith said last time I saw her in concert, just staying alive is a form of rebellion.

My dad firmly believed there would come a time when everything in this country would turn to shit. When “roving bands of marauders will knock down your door to steal your tins of tuna.” Yes, that’s a direct quote. Growing up with a guy like that, it’s no wonder I yam what I yam. My point is, our current geopolitical scenario feels closer to this dystopian image coming true than it ever has in my lifetime. I hope I’m wrong about this. In case I’m not, perhaps it’s time we all aim to be more like the sand than the fence.