
I want you to tell you a tale of two beavers. Two very ordinary wood-gnawing, water-splashing, dam-building beavers. If you need names to tell them apart, let’s call them Beaver Lou and Beaver Pierre.
Now don’t think I’m so dense I don’t know that beavers use to work together as a family, as a team. But for the sake of this particular story, let’s say that Lou and Pierre were solitary-working beavers, each working all by himself.

(The Story)
This was the time of the spring rains. The river banks grew green again. The water level was rising. The stream began to flow faster again. This was the right time for a Great Work!
So this morning, Beaver Lou and Beaver Pierre wobbled out of the water onto the shore, looking for Wood. They both found themselves a nice wood-promising spot, not very far from each other, and they each began gnawing the chips away.
They gnawed and gnawed and gnawed and the chips fell and fell, all morning and into the afternoon. They both worked very hard, like beavers need to do. Gnawing and gnawing and gnawing. They were not far apart: if one of them stopped for a moment to take a breath, he could hear the other one’s gnawing nearby.
But that afternoon, while Beaver Lou still kept gnawing away happily and enthusiastically, Beaver Pierre’s gnawing slowed down. In the end, Pierre stopped completely. He sat still and sighed.
He asked himself: “Why am I doing this? What’s the point?” He felt sadder and sadder, as if he himself was a totally pointless Beaver. A failure.
Pierre looked at all those futile chips on the ground, and felt even worse, felt like a total loser. Should he stop and go home? What did it matter? Did anything matter at all?
(The Diagnosis)
Beaver Pierre was suffering from a sudden bout of depression.
He heard how not far away, just around the corner, his friend Lou was still enthusiastically gnawing and gnawing and gnawing away. Pierre suddenly felt very alone. He closed his eyes because the daylight suddenly was sharp and hurting.
He felt so tired and defeated. He wished he was not here but somewhere else. He wished he was asleep or something like that. He wished he had not been born as a Beaver. He wished he didn’t exist. Yes, Beaver Pierre now was very, very depressed.
– I don’t know the end of his story. When I myself walked past the traces of Lou and Pierre’s work, near the evening, both beavers had gone home. I hope that the beaver family managed to lift Pierre’s spirits from utter gloom and doom again. I hope there was a happy end.
But what had triggered that sudden bout of depression?
To show you, I took two photos.
(The Analysis)
Here is the spot where Happy Beaver Lou had been gnawing:

And here is the spot where Depressed Beaver Pierre had done his best:

(The Conclusion)
All yours.
(The Music)
Where on earth would I find music about beavers? After thorough and fruitless research, and some less desirable results, the very best I can come up with is this.
Near the town of Shidler, Oklahoma, runs a stream that is called Beaver Creek. In 1938 an abandoned power station near that creek was converted into a dance hall: the Big Beaver Night Club (admission 80 cents a couple). It soon became a success and was popular until in 1946 it burned to the ground, never to be rebuilt.
One of the most popular bands that performed at the Big Beaver Night Club was Bob Wills & His Texas Playboys. With Tubby Lewis on trumpet, they recorded a tune that was called Big Beaver after the nightclub. This record actually became a hit.
So, thanks to those nameless beavers who once built their dams in that nearby creek, here is the Bob Wills band with their 1940 dance hit Big Beaver:


Click the green “Play” button – if it’s missing, install Flash.
For a full StayOnTop playlist, go to the Music page.

• tip: You were supposed to figure out today’s tip for yourself. Hint: it has something to do with scaling your ambitions and activities in such a way that you avoid feelings of hopelessness, inadequacy or failure.
• note: I took these two photos today, when (pfff) shlepping myself through my obligatory daily anti-depression walk.











In the first place there are the many Inspirational apps, that try hard to convince you there’s still a glimmer of hope in the dark: for example by presenting religious or generally uplifting quotes (sometimes they combine this with what they think might be soothing background music). I myself really wouldn’t give a cent for all these Inspirational ones: at best they’re naive and paternalistic; at worst they will make you feel even more out-of-touch, misunderstood and depressed.
But the most simple aids, um, apps, are often the best. I found this out a few weeks ago, when I was not just a little ill but also very depressed – so much, that for several days I had great trouble to keep myself going or even to take a few steps outside my room.
So if your own depressions tend to create a whirling time vortex too, I really recommend you give one of those chime apps a serious try. At the bottom of this post you’ll find a link to the one I installed on my phone.




All over the Web, you’ll find people advising you to “break your routines”. It has become a kind of popular meme: it keeps cropping up on improve-yourself sites, and even buzzes around on Twitter. You want to be more creative? Happier? More productive? Change your life for the better? Well, this is offered as the simple answer: “Break your routines!”
Point 1: There are good routines (like taking a healthy walk every morning) and bad routines (like smoking a packet of cigarettes every day). Breaking a good routine may be unwise, while breaking a bad routine may be a good idea.
Well, this is a typical example of Point 4 above: a bad routine in one situation, can be a good routine in another situation. A routine of watching TV for some hours each day may be bad if you have the energy to do more demanding, more productive things. But watching TV can actually be a fairly good routine if you are suffering from severe depression.
Or if your weekend shopping routine includes walking the same route through the same supermarket picking up the same items almost on autopilot, bend that routine a little by trying another supermarket where you don’t know the exact location of everything. This asks for a little more energy and effort, but it also means that you’ll do your shopping routine in a more “mindful”, conscious way.
May 25, 1965 –





