The psychologist and author Adam Grant provides an explanation:
Languishing is “the neglected middle child of mental health” and “the void between depression and flourishing — the absence of well-being.” He concluded: “By acknowledging that so many of us are languishing, we can start giving voice to quiet despair and lighting a path out of the void.”
Mr. Grant nails what some of us are experiencing as we stumble towards Earth’s third anniversary of Covid Freaking 19.
Personally, I use a stronger word for what I’ve been dealing with since the latter part of 2021. I call it “malaise.”
From the Merriam-Webster dictionary: “a slight or general feeling of not being healthy or happy.”
I’ve been “off” since November 2nd, right after the neighborhood “Pusher Party”. The days seemed too short and the nights too long. I questioned myself each and every date. “Is this the 5:30 time when I click on the coffee pot or the 5:30 time when I pop a top of an IPA?” I guess that’s to be expected when you’re averaging less than a handful of hours of sleep/night.
It didn’t help that my engagement calendar was mostly devoid of events to look forward to. (An appointment for a Subaru oil change isn’t socially satisfying). I felt isolated, lonely and listless. Just like in the Covid lockdown days of 2020. No bueno.
This past summer,I wrote about Covid hangover. In case you missed it:
I began counting down the days for a three week getaway to Snobsdale, AZ. (AKA Scottsdale). Well, I made it. It’s not that I’m in love with the fabulous shopping at the nearby Snobsdale Fashion Mall. I like it here for simple reasons. I’m outside more and hiking on ice-free trails. It’s been warm enough for flip flops, tank tops and baggy shorts. I’m catching up on my sleep. There’s hummingbirds, flowers and leaves on trees. I’ve seen lots of blockbuster holiday movies and have enjoyed a few Happy Hours with some old buddies. My time here flew by. I never once had to think is it 5:30 am or pm? For my mental health this was the right thing to do.
After Snobsdale my winter avoidance will continue.
In a few days I’ll be in South Florida visiting the world’s best brother and sister-in-law. (AKA Mike and Robin).
Then a short return to Durango for a Push Back Pizza Party. (Sanctuary Too will awake from hibernation.) Two days later, we all will be in Organ Pipe National Monument with a BUSY itinerary of hiking, reading, staring at desert scenery and drinking IPAs. In other words, working on my tan more than anything.
Followed by a few weeks in Death Valley National Park. By then, Durango’s daylight will be longer and the temperatures will be more moderate. Plus, I’m not too far away from desert camping.
Soon, I’ll post my predictions on what the new year and beyond might bring.
Here’s a preview. In the wee days of 2022, all 329.5 million Americans will gather on the perimeter of our Great Nation. While holding hands in a continuous circle, we’ll all belt out a rousing rendition of Kumbaya. It’ll be the start of a Second Age of Enlightenment and the New Renaissance.
Well, not exactly.
Wishing you and yours a languishing-free New Year.
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