Highs and Lows

Why the domain solely of manic-depressives, formerly, now called bi-polars?
Since the current thought is that we all should dwell somewhere in between ecstasy and misery, then what of the highs that inspire?
I mean the natural ones, of course.
It's a cosmic thing, allowing oneself to feel things strongly.
Without this sort of passion, the fuel necessary for attainment, for creating great works of art, and for simply being able to navigate life is lacking.
We need not go as far as a Van Gogh in our passions, nor in wrong directions, but as long as we are sane and sober, allowing oneself the flights of fancy that children feel almost all the time is mandatory both to open healthiness and to accomplishing what we were born to do.
The lows that often accompany or follow the highs of achievement or of temporary failure are merely a time for the body to heal in between major pushes toward creating the life one wants, and can easily be turned into restful, regrouping period.
Viewed as a natural sequence, like waves on the sea, instead of compulsively, as those who pursue the highs constantly, every ebb and flow seen as riding on a constant current toward our goals, rather than as a depressive state, the lows can be as useful as are the highs.
After all, we're not automatoms and we all need rest.
Mental rest as well as physical, and actually, we need to take time away from creativity in order to bring a freshness to our tasks.
While taming our need to take wrong directions, and realizing that the highs have great power, like lightning bolts, using self-discipline to use this lively state that either we have summoned randomly or that we have learned to cultivate, is the way winners actually win.
Those whose lives stay amid the gray areas might plod along nicely, but they seldom reach the height of achievement that their more passionate fellows can.


In another posting I'll addres the cultivation of these passionate, creative states.
For now, realize that where there is no depth, or height, of feeling, there is no greatness, no flights of fancy, and no wild joy without its' counterpart of coming down.
As with Icarus, we cannot aspire to remain higher, so we must, at times, admit defeat, if only in the tiredness of our bodies, so accept in peacefulness and gratitude the down times.
We need them to remind us of our frailty.
Our egos need these respites and grounding.
Not as fun, perhaps, but necessary, these gray times, in order to scale new horizons, to gear up for those wayward, colorful, and sometimes uncomfortably high heights of passion.