I thought I was just being lazy. I mean, I called it being tired and getting some much-needed rest, but in secret I was snickering at my deception and just enjoying being lazy. This will be known as the Summer of Much Sitting. I have, as previously posted, binged my way through British television series and crafted until my eyes were as crossed as my stitches.
I have seen all of Sherlock, all nine seasons (and the in-between specials) of Doctor Who, and today will finish the BBC Robin Hood series.
And then a few days ago, I realized I was wrecked. Wrecked. The dark cloud of depression had crept over me unchallenged and there came a point when I had to choose: Do I give in or use the energy I have left to fight this thing? In the irony of depression, I didn’t even have the oomph to make a true decision and could only maintain basic function, nose barely above the water line.
And, oddly, as I went through that day, it was images of these shows that kept coming up in my mind, especially the most recent – Robin Hood. (I have always been a sucker for this story. I have watched every movie and television incarnation of this hero that I’ve been able to find.) As I thought of the shows, I’d actually feel worse, more burdened. I’d see the peoples’ adoration for Robin Hood, his invincibility, the camaraderie and brotherhood of him and his men. Then my thoughts would turn to me.
“I am nobody.”
The thought shocked me on two levels. One shock was that, even as a poetry lover, I had never in my life quoted Emily Dickinson and was perfectly okay with that. But the main shock about the thought was…well, the THOUGHT.
I am nobody? Even in the throes of my darkness I knew better than that. But that cranked up the battle and truth I was embarrassed to admit even to myself began to come to light. I want to be Robin Hood. I am a middle-aged teacher and grandmother tucked away in suburban DFW and I want to be Robin Hood.
Mind you, not the arrow-shooting, sword-wielding part. Good heavens, I don’t want to put pants on to drive to the Chick-fil-A drive-through for lunch. And I swear I’ll vote for the first presidential candidate who promises to approve drones delivering Starbucks to my house. No, it’s the brotherhood – the love of his people. The adoration and loyalty. He MATTERS.
Come on. We all want that, right? It’s not just me. Instead of going through our day in relative obscurity, knowing that at any moment of the day someone is thinking of us? Someone is wondering about us, cheering us on, desiring our company? Loving us so much they would sacrifice anything?
So, driving home that day, I knew I had to cancel watching those shows. Back to Dr. Phil. If watching my heroes simply makes me aware that I ain’t one and makes me feel that defeated, then it’s not worth it. Better to get my head back in the real world.
And that’s when “Daystar” came up on my shuffle feed of music and “when I see You standing near me, shining with compassion in Your eyes” is the only line I heard and I began to sob. And that broke the hold of darkness just enough for my Hero’s voice to come through. And He gave me permission to be Robin Hood.
Well actually what He said was that, for now and in the foreseeable future, as I’m watching or even thinking about those shows, I am to remember that I am seeing Him and me. I have His love. Constantly. He is always thinking about me, always cheering me on, always desiring my company. Always loving me so much He sacrificed everything. Instead of being devastated for the lack, allow the show to remind me of my true reality.
As I watched the young hero last night (while cross-stitching my newest project and trying to will that whole drone thing into existence), I watched how his people loved him and I smiled.
Oh Robin, you don’t know the half of it.