Recuerdos de Juquila

Recuerdo means "souvenir," and also, "memory." I believe that in our modern world there's a memory of something long forgotten, a call from deep inside that hasn't been listened to in so long it's become hard to hear. A connection to earth and sky and the purpose of things, an internal rhythm, a stirring that becomes stronger during seasons and stages. When I read "anxiety and depression" again and again in the charts of so many of my patients, I know there's something going on in the world, something not quite right.

Vincent van Gogh writes about that call beautifully, here, in a letter to his brother Theo...


A caged bird in spring knows perfectly well that there is some way in which he should be able to serve. He is well aware that there is something to be done, but he is unable to do it. What is it? He cannot quite remember, but then he gets a vague inkling and he says to himself, “The others are building their nests and hatching their young and bringing them up,” and then he bangs his head against the bars of the cage. But the cage does not give way and the bird is maddened by pain. “What an idler,” says another bird passing by - what an idler. Yet the prisoner lives and does not die. There are no outward signs of what is going on inside him; he is doing well, he is quite cheerful in the sunshine.

But then the season of the great migration arrives, an attack of melancholy. He has everything he needs, say the children who tend him in his cage - but he looks out, at the heavy thundery sky, and in his heart of hearts he rebels against his fate. I am caged, I am caged and you say I need nothing, you idiots! I have everything I need, indeed! Oh! please give me the freedom to be a bird like other birds!