Whispering of Willows 55

By Dr. Anna Zhao

Autumn has quietly arrived, and the trees in the clinic garden are laden with ripening fruit. The garden is filled with fragrance; bees and birds are flitting among the branches.

Dr. Ali planted almost all the fruit trees in the garden, and yet he always saves the sweetest fruit for us to enjoy, while he himself eats only those that have fallen to the ground or have been bitten by worms. Two years ago, Dr. Daniel and I planted a blueberry tree, a cherry tree, and an apple tree. The blueberry had quite a harvest this year, the cherry tree has also yielded a large handful of sweet, red fruit, and on the stout apple tree, four large apples are gleaming mysteriously.

Since the pandemic, we have seen more people experiencing mental health issues, with a significant increase in the prevalence of anxiety and depression.

C came to us for treatment, with her primary complaint being depression. She had been seeing a psychotherapist for years and taking antidepressants, but they seemed to be losing their effectiveness. She suffered constant pain, sometimes resorting to smoking marijuana for pain relief. She came to us, hoping we could help relieve her physical suffering. Once, after I finished treating her, I went to work in the garden, and she followed me.

As we wandered, I talked, "Ah, taking care of a garden is no easy task. I used to find the weeds the most annoying. They're so stubborn, growing like crazy wherever there is a little bit of soil. I pulled and pulled, but I could never eradicate them. “

Then I added, “Ah, C, isn't worry or depression like a weed to you sometimes?"

"That's right," C responded with a wry smile. "They keep growing, growing, and growing again, never stopping."

She told me that most of the time, her melancholy was like a dark cloud shielding the sun, fleeting and passing without leaving much of a mark. But when her depression grew in strength, it was different. Then, she would doubt and mock everything, as if she was approaching the end of the world. However, this sudden, hurricane-like feeling was not like a fleeting cloud soon to pass away. Instead, after the hurricane, traces of damage remained visible everywhere. To return to where she started, C felt forced to expend so much time and energy focused on the problems, with each successive incident requiring more energy and time than the previous one.

"I don't know much about depression," I said. "I'm not a psychologist, but I have some experience dealing with weeds. The weeds quietly and sneakily intrude into our garden, but you know, I seldom even try to pull them out anymore unless they are taking over part of our garden. “

"Oh, why is that?"

"Because I've realized that weeds are inevitable, and if I focus too much on them, I tend to neglect my herbs, flowers, and fruit trees. I think it's more worthwhile to spend my limited time and energy on what I enjoy. As our plants have grown more and more vibrant, I notice that the weeds have slowed down their growth. Can depression be treated the same way? If worries are like a weed, and you don't want it around, why don’t you just plant more of what really pleases you?"

C looked at me in surprise. "Dr. Anna, you're very humorous. But I'm so busy every day making ends meet that I don't have the time to plant anything. Besides, I live in a small apartment, so even if I wanted to, I wouldn't have anywhere to plant."

"You don't have to plant flowers, C. Do more of what builds you up—that's how you plant happiness, dear C," I emphasized. "Look at what Dr. Ali does! He toils in the garden every day, but rarely we see him putting any effort into weeding. As a result, the garden is now laden with fragrant fruit. Are those weeds still there? Yes, they are. But what does it matter? Who would pay attention to them? Everyone who enters this garden sees the beautiful flowers and scrumptious fruit, not those insignificant weeds."

C was silent so I went on: “My dear friend, like the weather, you will have days that are bright and sunny. But, as the old song says, teardrops and laughter go through the world hand in hand. Like the plants in the garden, we require balance.”

C seemed to understand and remained silent for a long time.

It was a beautiful day, and C offered to help me pick blueberries. We both picked a full plastic bag. Before leaving, she said, "If I'd bent over like this to work before, my back would have been aching terribly and I would have difficulty to straighten it. It's strange, but today it doesn't hurt at all. What's the reason, Dr. Anna?"

I smiled and said, "One moonlight night, I watched a very plump old woman walk unsteadily to a Buddhist temple. I hid behind a tree and watched her for a time. She bowed briefly at the entrance, then walked further in to kneel and worship on the hard cold stone for several hours, tears running on her cheeks, but a smile on her lips.  I was stunned. How could someone that old have such great strength? I suppose, it must have something to do with her focus on what works for her happiness."

"If I'm not a follower of Buddha, then what else could work?" C mused softly. She then pointed to the sky, "For me, maybe it's the soft, warm sunlight. I feel it has a magical, uplifting power."

C’s countenance darkened and she sighed again, “Dr. Anna, often I have felt so broken, every part of me, my body, my mind, and my spirit; if there is such a thing as spirit. Sometimes I wonder how I remain so broken or if I was born defective…  Soon after my birth, my father died suddenly leaving my mother in such difficulty. My adult heart knows mother did the best she could in such a situation. However, I still remember on my sixth birthday, I waited all day for my mother to return home from work, and as soon as she appeared at the door, I jumped into her arms and asked shyly, ‘Where is my birthday gift, Mommy? ’ She pushed me away and stared angrily into my eyes, ‘What gift, you useless thing! I wish you had never been born!’ I instantly felt broken to pieces, and I suppose I haven’t been right since.”

C sobbed and trailed off looking into the distance.

I spoke softly, “C, even some weeds can be herbal medicine, you know? Your pain could be your soul wanting you to slow down and begin healing yourself. Far from being weak or broken, your body/mind/spirit see you as strong enough to undertake this journey at this time.”

As we were chatting, a pink glow spread across the vast sky as the sun chased the remaining dark clouds away. I noticed the sunlight was glinting both on C’s face and in her eyes, as well as on the tiny wings of a bee that buzzed past. The dew on the blades of nearby plants sparkled like diamonds.

I think C is on the road to recovery, and it's not only from the effect of our acupuncture.