Graphing the Glory

Sometimes after a time of goodness in our lives, there is a space where we are without direction or orientation. It comes when we return from inspired travels to a dusty apartment, and are unsure what to do next with ourselves; when we graduate, and there are no employers knocking at our doors; when race-day finally arrives, we run as fast as we can, and then wake-up the next morning to sore legs; when the sun has set in an opus of breathtaking colours, and we must find our way back from the beach in the dark. In each of these instances, the goal has been achieved, but what happens next is often unclear.

The time after the glory is fascinating… and potentially scary.




For myself, a linear question that often accompanies reflections of happy times is- must every high point be followed by a low point? In other words, if we are to experience adventure and joy and achievement, is it logical that there will be a slope going back down afterwards? And if so, how do we manage these times?

I ponder these thoughts because I have just had “the summer of my life”. It was incredibly great for many reasons: adventure, romance, education, and the visa bills to prove it all. So according to my motley theory of karmatic emotional equilibrium, I should be experiencing a major mood crash any day now. By the weekend, I should be listening to old-school country music, drinkin’ Jack Daniel’s out of a Dollarama mug, and recounting exaggerated tales of the dog days of summer.

However, mercifully it has yet to happen, and knock on wood, I think that I just might be in the clear. The trick has been to set my eyes on new potential highs and to start climbing towards them. Somehow, for me, knowing that I am building towards a goal or ambition can be as fulfilling as achieving it.

So if you are one of the many people experiencing the pandemic of post-summer depression, leaving you daydreaming in class, staring out the windows, and wondering if afternoons in the park are all but a fading memory. If you are forcing yourself to meander up the mountain, plan a picnic, and squeeze in a siesta, all in a desperate attempt to maintain the fair-weather high that keeps the winter blues at bay… know that you are not alone. I too am avoiding the valley of after-glory lows. But next summer is only a winter away, and it’s never too early to start pondering new projects and thinking about taller mountains to climb.