Depression – Breaking the Log Jam

It’s been four days since I felt the first break in the log jam. And today was Monday—my riding day with Robyn. 🚴♀️🌲

For years now, we’ve carved out Mondays for mountain biking. She heads to her cabin in the summers, so we pause, but every fall we pick it back up. I didn’t realize until this past year how profoundly healing it is to have a friend who dedicates hours each week just to be with me—doing something we both love.

When I first met Robyn, she was a hard shell to crack. There wasn’t much sharing between us about life or deeper emotions. But over the years, as we kept showing up on these rides, the shell softened. The conversations opened. The connection deepened.

What started as two women pedaling down trails became something else entirely: a ritual of life. A practice of friendship. A way of remembering we are not alone. 🤝

Today we drove to the top of Brian Head, Utah. The air was so cold my hands turned to icicles before we even began. ❄️ Fog clung to the pines, and we pedaled through it, breath clouding, the trail damp but not muddy enough to scar it.

Robyn, who is a pastor, made a request: to stop at every awe moment. She told me that in all her years of ministry, she never had what she would call a spiritual practice. Today, awe was her practice. ✨

And there were many awe moments.

The first overlook opened to a valley of pines and aspens at their peak—brilliant yellows, deep oranges, fiery reds. 🍂 Elk bugled in the near distance, their calls close enough to wonder if we might meet them on the trail. Later, the path turned golden, blanketed in leaves, and I laughed—it felt like riding the Yellow Brick Road. 🌟 At one point, a deer trotted past as if we were part of the forest itself. 🦌

This wasn’t the kind of ride where adrenaline drove us forward. It was a ride of pausing, of laying in holy dirt, of streams and silence and friendship. A ride that reminded me how restorative beauty can be—and how vital connection is, especially when everything in depression urges you to retreat and isolate.

Thoughts, Feelings, and Senses 🌀

When depression takes hold, thoughts, feelings, and senses get muddled together.

Thoughts loop: You can’t handle this. You’ll never get out. You’re stuck.
Feelings pile on—fear, grief, hopelessness.
And together, they become too heavy to separate.

We retreat to what I call the comfortable discomfort—a couch, a bed, a darkened room. For me, it’s a closet. 🚪 A small, shielded space that feels like protection from the noise, the light, and the too-much of everything. But while isolation feels like safety, it’s rarely helpful.

And yet, if you’re reading this and you’re not ready to reach out—that’s okay too. It’s normal to feel like maybe you’re a burden. That feeling can be very real inside the heaviness. Sometimes people do struggle to hold space for deep pain or dense emotions—and that can make us pull back even more.

But feeling like a burden doesn’t necessarily mean you are one. It’s one of the things depression whispers. And it’s still okay if that’s how it feels right now.

It’s also normal to not want to be seen. Which is why I’m offering something very simple. Something you can do on your own. A beginning of rebuilding courage.

A Gentle Practice: The Sense Walk 👣

This is a practice I’ve used before, and one I’m returning to now. It’s gentle. It doesn’t require hours of energy—just a small slice of bravery.

👉 Choose a color. Any color. Let’s say purple.
👉 Set a time—5 or 10 minutes. That’s all.
👉 As you walk, let your eyes search for that color.

If you see purple flowers, walk toward them. 🌸 Smell them. Notice the shade. Notice the shape of the petals. Take them in for a moment, then keep going. Find every purple thing you can. Count them. Let your senses, not your thoughts, guide you.

When your time is up, you can return to the couch, the bed, or even the closet—wherever you’ve been. But something will have shifted.

Because the senses—unlike thoughts or feelings—offer us a way back to presence. To life. To light. ☀️

And this doesn’t have to be only through sight. Sometimes I do this with my ears, walking and simply listening for birds. 🐦 It’s amazing how many you hear when that’s what you’re focused on. You could do it with touch—running your hands over tree bark, leaves, or stones. 🌳 Or with smell—pausing to notice pine, dirt, or flowers. 🌿

This is the gift of the body. You can step into any of the five senses and become present. Not in the anxiety of the future. Not in the sadness of the past. For 5–10 minutes, you can anchor in what is here, right now. And in that space, the mind softens. The feeling body softens.

🌱

✨ In the comments:
If you try this, or if you have your own “sense practice,” I’d love to hear what it opened for you.

#DepressionAwareness #MentalHealthJourney #MethodOfStillness #YouAreNotAlone #GentlePractices #HealingJourney #BreakingTheSilence #CompassionOverShame #SufferingInSilence #FindingAwe