The pictures above is from a small mountain a couple of miles from my little town in Southwestern Vermont. The grey thing in the center is the slate quarry across from my little miners house in West Pawlet. I have no idea how it looks to you. Too vibrant like a post card from the fifties? Clear and sharp and realistic?

I can tell you that to me it looks like what I see. But to get the picture to be what I see I have to add in some saturation with software. For decades now, ever since I began taking my antidepression medicine, I have seen things more vibrantly than my camera. I’ve never known why. Do I see things more vibrantly than most people? Over the years as I have bought new cameras it has been the same. And so for decades I boosted my photographs to match what I see.

I am pretty sure it has something to with either my depression, or the depression medicine. When I was first diagnosed they put me on some medication that worked pretty well. But even better than beating back the depression, it seemed to enhance how I saw color. And not just color, it enhanced how food tasted. I cannot tell you how crazy good food tasted when I began that medicine. I often told the doctors that I would take that medication even if my depression went away, just for the vibrance of color and the way food tasted. I do not think everyone who takes it has that reaction. If they did we’d be fighting to take it.

A few months ago I began to show signs of a little heart issue. Nothing huge. Nothing (at this point) deadly. But not good. I found myself faint now and again and my blood pressure and heartbeat was just this side of zero. A bit of investigation and they figured out that it was my beloved depression medication. My “happy pills” as I called them.

So they banned them. And switched me to something else. A month into it and I was so-so depression wise. But the heart was happy. My eyes and taste buds however were pissed. Life was dull. Food was “meh”. I wasn’t taking pictures much. I wasn’t eating as much. Beause none of it was anything special.

Not being satisfied, I went back to the doc. We tinkered. Changed stuff. Changed doses. Another month or two of trial and error. The depression got better still. But what I saw and tasted was still…. dull. I had come to the conclusion that this might just be what I would have to settle for. “Stick with it.” the doc said. “Another 30 days.” Trust me i was ready for another med. Instant gratification is us. Or me anyway.

And suddenly, yesterday, on the drive from my Rutland church, I suddenly realized how bright the trees were. Even though we are a week past prime up here, the trees were brighter than they had been all season. And today they were bright again.

And today? Food suddenly had it’s taste again. I am not kidding when I say I almost cried in happiness. At my age, I am very aware there are things that become less. It’s normal, even when fight it. (and I often do.). But I have my vibrance back. My heart is good. My depression is back to it’s old manageable self.

It just took a while. Longer than I would have liked.

The temptation is to give in and jump into something new. A new path. New tools. New meds. A new relationship. A new job. New, new, new. But sometimes that is no the solution. Sometimes the solution is time. Trying ONE new thing and giving it the time to work. More time than you want to give it.

I preach that to my coaching clients. I preach it sometimes to my parishioners. But I know, first hand, just how hard giving it time is, how hard working on something when it does not seem to be working is. I am not saying don’t change things – hardly: I think changes is good. But give that change time to work.

In my own life, if I gave a new path time, a few months, a year – I found myself succeeding in whatever I wanted in my life. When I did not give it the time, I did not. Took a while for me to learn it but at my nearly 70 years of life, it’s pretty well embedded finally, and I use it to move myself foward. In life, work, art, faith, love…. in everything, actually.

I am reminded of a coaching client that every week when we talked, had read about some new approach, and wanted to try it. We never got anywhere, until I told her “Pick a path. Work it for a few months.” And low and behold, she made progress – using the path we had chosen when we started. The truth is, most any approach to growth will work if you do the work and give it time.

But most of us don’t. We’ve become instant, doom scrolling, easily distracted, impatient people. It’s not you. It’s not me. It’s our culture. But it does not have to be. We can pick the culture we want. We can choose a path and walk it. Patience is not a virtue, it is a path. And one that works.

Be well. Travel wisely, And enjoy the color.

Tom