There’s an intermediate stage, a step before the first step that gets wiped away by depression. The trying to try. The memory that things can get better and had better be done by a certain point in time. Time flies while you’re depressed. I’m talking about the long-range look at time, the month-by-month passage, not the minute-by-minute, which can be, of course, an eternity. So, an eternity in a day, but months that fly by. You’re expecting the world to stop along with you. Then, when you get better, God willing, you poke your head up and look around and see that time has passed you by and that the world has not stopped but rather it has sped up, as the world always does.

Never stop trying to try, trying to take that first step toward keeping up with time’s arrow as it flies through space unendingly.