Surviving economic changes requires rethinking happiness

How do you stay mentally healthy during the struggles of this economic downturn? I am just laid off myself, and some days the frustration of futile job hunting has me teetering on the edge of the canyon of depression. Heap on top of that the frustration of, "I followed all the rules, just so I would never have to be in this place."

So, anyway ... trying to stay mentally healthy. So much advice is so clueless, and much is hard when there is no money to spare.

* Exercise regularly. Well, it's got to be something you can do in the park (like hoops) or through the neighborhood (like walking or running). The gym is a luxury we've cut from our budget. Luckily, being unemployed, I've got lots of time for exercising now, and it's a way to blow off the steam of frustration.

* Spend time socializing with friends. My house or theirs? Restaurants or bars take a huge bite out of my food budget. Add on top of that the fact that we hardly know how to entertain ourselves in our own homes anymore.

* Eat healthy. Whole grains and fresh fruit are much more expensive than processed, so it's hard under financial pressure.

* Keep mentally stimulated. Thank god for KNPR on the radio, ted.com and our amazing libraries.

* Pursue a new hobby. Only if it is something that doesn't require any new gear or supplies. Hmm, naked eye stargazing anyone?

* Volunteer. This is a powerful one. Gets you out of your own head and that you are not alone in struggling. Can give your day purpose and structure. It's not work for pay, but it is work.

-- C.B. Henderson

Let's start with the "canyon of depression" ...

Once in my adult life, I was unemployed. For a grand total of six weeks. While I'm keenly aware that, compared to others, six weeks is a very short time ... Well, it was the longest six weeks of my life. Vocation is so much more than a means to make money. Meaningful vocation strikes at the heart of human identity. Without it, we float, we flounder, we begin to cave in on ourselves, and we are often tempted to despair.

I'm saying that, alongside of the immediate concerns for groceries, housing and toilets that flush is the deeply human need to contribute, to participate, to engage the world with the gift that is ourselves.

Depression is an all-too-easy place to become paralyzed.

Your sense of "I followed all the rules" is nakedly honest. It points up, I think, the limits in the great American work ethic. To wit: If I am willing to work hard, if I live a responsible life, then things will work out for me. Don't get me wrong, I'm on board with this ethos. It's the right way to live. But not because it will in every case make us invulnerable to economic hardship.

All economic systems are sometimes capricious; they include factors that can't be controlled by smarts and hard work. The brightest and most talented among us cannot always dodge a savage economic Darwinism that sometimes crosses our path.

When we're already feeling scared and depressed, the human ego finds easy purchase in resentment ("This is unfair! I followed the rules!"), or self-loathing ("I'm unemployed, therefore I must be a real loser!")

It's not necessarily unfair or any commentary on your quality as a person. Economic downturns can and do swallow up productive, hardworking people, too. Mental health means telling the voices of entitlement and self-criticism to "sit down and shut up."

Your first five suggested alternatives to "the canyon of depression" have in common your wry observation that attending to well-being is expensive! During economic hard times, we are forced to rethink how we play, socialize, exercise and eat.

For me, the belt-tightening has forced me to examine how mindlessly I have accepted the idea that living healthy, happy and well must be attached to $75 bar bills, NFL tickets and a well-funded Starbucks card.

Living well with less means taking back the power to define happiness and contentment for ourselves. It means relearning how to simply be with ourselves and our loved ones. It's laughing at ourselves for forgetting that children thrive with crayons and storybooks and imagination -- anything, as long as we're willing to be present with them.

If there is a silver lining here, it's in remembering that nobody and no thing ultimately has the power to tell me whether I'm happy, grateful and loved. Even if someday I'm hoeing peas in a neighborhood vegetable garden co-op, because that's the only way my neighbors and I can eat.

Originally published in View News, Oct. 13, 2009.