Depression has had a different meaning for me roughly every five to ten years. Life experience changes the face and shadow of my depression and adds many levels and layers to who I think I am.
As I approach my half-century I look back over my life and, with the wonderful wisdom of hindsight, can clearly pinpoint what went wrong and where it got worse. As I learn more and more about the concept of mindfulness I realise it brings me not so much happiness – but far less misery, and a sense of unconditional reality and normality.
Although I meditate, “bliss” for me is as remote as Tibet is to the Dalai Lama. If “normal” is just a setting on the washing machine, then “bliss” is just an ice-cream I see in the freezer department of my local supermarket where I get my frozen fish and sausages.