Languishing - is it all a load of Blah?

 

I’ve learnt a new word, well maybe not exactly new but a new meaning, recycled and repurposed for the times we live in.

languishing adjective

failing to make progress or be successful.

 

Interestingly I never thought it had such negative connotations until just now when I googled the definition. I see it more as lazing by a deep blue pool sparkling in the sunlight or a woollen jumper languishing at the bottom of the washing basket waiting for a careful handwash. There’s some kind of luxury to the word as it richly flows off the tongue.

Let’s keep hold of the positive, glass half full strands as we dive into something a little murkier….

the seemingly never-ending pandemic!

I came across the word “languishing” by chance scrolling through Facebook, as I stumble across most things these days. It was an article published in the New York Times

There’s a Name for the Blah You’re Feeling: It’s Called Languishing

https://www.nytimes.com/2021/04/19/well/mind/covid-mental-health-languishing.html

Well I can certainly relate to the “blah” feeling so I clicked and read further and you can read it too by clicking on the above link, but here are my own thoughts with some pretty pictures…

Languishing is described as the middle child of mental health somewhere in the no man’s land between depression and thriving.

It seems to be where a lot of us are at just now, we survived 2020 and had high hopes for 2021, after all the roadmap appears to be on course and life is getting back to some sense of “normality”.

But I know from talking to people that there just isn’t as much sparkle in the world at the moment, particularly for those of us who are extroverts by nature, who usually thrive on company and interaction with others. We’ve retreated so far into our comfortable shells that even the idea of poking our heads out is agonisingly daunting.

Let’s just lie on the sofa and binge watch some more Netflix until all of this goes away and if it doesn’t let’s just binge watch some more – languishing in the cosiness of the familiar.

And that’s OK, we’re not really depressed.

I have some experience of depression; I’m still taking a tiny tablet each day to keep me balanced and Andrew had bad depression that cast a long black shadow over family life for many years. This is certainly different.

But we are stuck, and I keep saying “we” because I know this applies to others. We are just not thriving as we might do in better times.

The garden this year offers an interesting illustration.

 Compare last year's vibrant blooms...

...with this year's tight buds and reluctantly unfurling lily

photos taken exactly a year apart of the same plants.

Last year we had a very sunny spring, both warmer and wetter, much more conducive for plants flourishing in the garden.

And we desperately needed the sunshine last year as we began to grapple with the very first lockdown and the idea of staying at home to save lives. We were, maybe not filled with enthusiasm but at least we seemed to have more purpose and resolve to achieve things.

Sadly, the pandemic is no longer a novelty, in the sense of being new rather than a frivolous bauble (oh how rich our language is?). We are a bit bored now and even if we know there is light at the end of the tunnel with vaccinations and tumbling figures over here, we can see the virus still raging out of control in other parts of the world. It will impact all our lives for a very long time, maybe forever.

So how do we flourish again?

Maybe we need to go back in the garden, the daffodils are shrivelled and well past their best, some tulips sadly droop, other plants have died in this dry weather.

However, there is resilience, buds are appearing with new growth, good things are around the corner. And some plants that haven’t blossomed this year may get another chance, there’s always next spring.

One thing I know for sure from experiencing early widowhood, being a single parent and surviving cancer is that you can bounce back.

It would be flippant to say you ALWAYS do, maybe you don’t bounce so high, hard knock chip off some sparkle and you have battle-scars.

But just like that real wool jumper languishing at the bottom of the wash basket, with some tender care and attention you can be revived.