You and Sara are so right. Your courage gives others courage. Your glimmering piece has so many of the elements I love in your writing: funny details( cauliflower contempt as reassurance!), loving shout outs to family (both present and departed), deep faith in the good fight and how good it is to be in the fight together, shoulder to shoulder (wearing beautiful patches and our hearts on our sleeves). Here's to art and revolution, to telling our stories, to life!
Hey Josh, Thanks for this detailed account of what it feels like to be deeply depressed. This is such a common affliction. It's somehow lighthearted and not because you are emerging from this depression -- perhaps it's something about the details, the way you see yourself from outside. May the person who does not like cauliflower prevail. Hope you're up to full stength soon. Keep the faith!
Thank you for daring to write about what you are experiencing. You are not alone. I feel so much that this horrible period since last November has affected me too as a writer and a human. Where do we put all this sadness and anger about what too many mean people in power are doing to our country? And still have the chutzpah to say what we think out loud without fear of consequences. What happened to "never again?" Your post explains so much why my sofa has become a security blanket for my existence. Only I don't get so much sleep. But then most of the women my age that I know don't sleep much. Maybe that's another form of depression that just hasn't been calculated yet! Except our eyes are open as we stare into a terrifying void! I know some kinds of depression are much like that cloud of shmutz that hangs on a character from a Charles Shultz' comic strip. And sometimes a big enough wind comes along and just lifts the dang thing off and blows it away. May your glimmers be wind that lift and blow away the darkness that hangs over you! In the old days, a rabbi or shaman might have been able to exorcise it away like they would a dybbuk! Poof and gone!
There you are, Josh…there we all are, keeping our collective balloons in the air. I’m impressed by your courage and tenacity, seriously. Planning to get to a few more of your shows, now that there are more! Yay, and huge thanks to you and Sara for all you do ‘out in the streets!” See you at the Marsh….RTSO Sara
Amazing post and what an accomplishment - to go through this AND keep writing here AND write and perform the new show! Wish I was on your coast to see it. Never doubt the power of a Kornbluth! Bravissimo!
Thank you Josh, for writing with such tenderness and honesty. You express the fragility many of us are feeling right now. It’s human to feel like a tiny, powerless speck in this vast attack on basic humanitarian values. But you remind me that the little glimmers, when consistent, might be just enough to sustain a short neighborhood walk, a personal transformation, and maybe even a coast to coast revolution of upending our government by prioritizing compassion towards others.
I am so happy that you are glimmering for extended periods of time. And I always love and respect your's and Sara's activism. You are too of my heros in the stuggle with so many of us.
There's something about being 65 years old, retired, receiving Social Security benefits and Medicare, that is simply unmooring. It's kind of like being depressed but I think it's something else. For me the way out is to embrace the vivid impermanence of it all. I care about the world but these are no longer my problems to fix. It's going to be up to those kids nearly running me over with their e-scooters on a daily basis to save the planet. Maybe I should shout, "Thank you for your carbon footprint!" as they shrink into the distance in front of me.
I never had a chance to hear one of your monologs but I really liked your movie, "Haiku Tunnel." It's due for a rewatch.
Josh, It makes me so happy to read that you’re feeling better. I hope the glimmers grow brighter and last longer so that feeling good becomes the new normal!
You and Sara are so right. Your courage gives others courage. Your glimmering piece has so many of the elements I love in your writing: funny details( cauliflower contempt as reassurance!), loving shout outs to family (both present and departed), deep faith in the good fight and how good it is to be in the fight together, shoulder to shoulder (wearing beautiful patches and our hearts on our sleeves). Here's to art and revolution, to telling our stories, to life!
Glad you are feeling better. Having loved ones who actively support you, as well as genuine responses and feedback from engaged readers and viewers of your work, is so important. Much more so than the glib unsolicited advice from strangers often offered to those of us suffering from severe depression, in my experience. I wrote about this recently: https://funcrunch.medium.com/unhelpful-advice-for-the-seriously-depressed-a8a8233623ba?sk=718578629e34c04f98c6539ab31c1f03
Hey Josh, Thanks for this detailed account of what it feels like to be deeply depressed. This is such a common affliction. It's somehow lighthearted and not because you are emerging from this depression -- perhaps it's something about the details, the way you see yourself from outside. May the person who does not like cauliflower prevail. Hope you're up to full stength soon. Keep the faith!
Thank you for daring to write about what you are experiencing. You are not alone. I feel so much that this horrible period since last November has affected me too as a writer and a human. Where do we put all this sadness and anger about what too many mean people in power are doing to our country? And still have the chutzpah to say what we think out loud without fear of consequences. What happened to "never again?" Your post explains so much why my sofa has become a security blanket for my existence. Only I don't get so much sleep. But then most of the women my age that I know don't sleep much. Maybe that's another form of depression that just hasn't been calculated yet! Except our eyes are open as we stare into a terrifying void! I know some kinds of depression are much like that cloud of shmutz that hangs on a character from a Charles Shultz' comic strip. And sometimes a big enough wind comes along and just lifts the dang thing off and blows it away. May your glimmers be wind that lift and blow away the darkness that hangs over you! In the old days, a rabbi or shaman might have been able to exorcise it away like they would a dybbuk! Poof and gone!
There you are, Josh…there we all are, keeping our collective balloons in the air. I’m impressed by your courage and tenacity, seriously. Planning to get to a few more of your shows, now that there are more! Yay, and huge thanks to you and Sara for all you do ‘out in the streets!” See you at the Marsh….RTSO Sara
Amazing post and what an accomplishment - to go through this AND keep writing here AND write and perform the new show! Wish I was on your coast to see it. Never doubt the power of a Kornbluth! Bravissimo!
Thank you Josh, for writing with such tenderness and honesty. You express the fragility many of us are feeling right now. It’s human to feel like a tiny, powerless speck in this vast attack on basic humanitarian values. But you remind me that the little glimmers, when consistent, might be just enough to sustain a short neighborhood walk, a personal transformation, and maybe even a coast to coast revolution of upending our government by prioritizing compassion towards others.
I always love reading your pieces and am happy (and hopeful) to hear you're having glimmerings. May the healing continue.
You're doing your part for tikkun olam!
Josh, long may you glimmer. And long may you keep on fighting the good fight.
I am so happy that you are glimmering for extended periods of time. And I always love and respect your's and Sara's activism. You are too of my heros in the stuggle with so many of us.
Glad to hear you are feeling better.
There's something about being 65 years old, retired, receiving Social Security benefits and Medicare, that is simply unmooring. It's kind of like being depressed but I think it's something else. For me the way out is to embrace the vivid impermanence of it all. I care about the world but these are no longer my problems to fix. It's going to be up to those kids nearly running me over with their e-scooters on a daily basis to save the planet. Maybe I should shout, "Thank you for your carbon footprint!" as they shrink into the distance in front of me.
I never had a chance to hear one of your monologs but I really liked your movie, "Haiku Tunnel." It's due for a rewatch.
Josh, It makes me so happy to read that you’re feeling better. I hope the glimmers grow brighter and last longer so that feeling good becomes the new normal!
To whatever extent your red diaper upbringing helps you not give up, TERRIFIC! We readers got your back, rooting and cheering you on..
Congratulations, Josh! and thank you.
Looking forward to seeing your performance Friday evening. :-)
Woo hoo! So glad to hear!