The flow of life is rarely routine. We can plan for surprises, but are usually unprepared when they arrive. Much of the time we spend on earth is ruled by obligations to family and work. We list our duties and the times they will take place on calendars along with a scattering of ideas for taking breaks from our regular duties. Most of the hum of life is so regular that we almost forget that it is there. We take things for granted rather than being grateful for those days. It is only when some unexpected event changes the course of our journey that we look back in appreciation for times that had once seemed to be boring.
I know about enduring the unexpected much the same as others do. I’ve sometimes found myself speaking to the spirit of Job and telling him that I fully understand the frustrations that he once felt. I often look around and it seems as though my situation is unfair, but then I realize that each of us is carrying burdens that weigh heavily on our backs. Some must face unthinkable challenges like witnessing the murder of a beloved child.
When we are left to deal with the damage of the unwanted moments that tear our lives into tiny pieces we often want to rant about the unfairness of it all. In those times we may feel alone and brutalized by the experience. We see others still busying themselves with normal routines and like Job we wonder why we have been afflicted while they seemingly are not. It can lead us into a darkness of isolation, loneliness and depression or it can challenge us to create our own stories of how we might react to our woes.
A work colleague of mine has been openly discussing the rollercoaster of emotions that have stalked him since the death of his son two years ago. At times he seems to be locked in a perpetual state of despair. At other times he is able to honestly speak of his pain and explain how he is attempting to deal with it. It is from him that I have learned the wisdom of writing our own stories by facing challenges with a different kind of mindset.
Each of us will no doubt face issues that almost destroy us or at the very least sap our energy and joy. We do not have to focus only on the negativity of our troubles. We can find ways to look at the hard times differently than we might otherwise have done. For example, if the cashier at the grocery store is brusque we would do well to wonder what difficulty has made that person so angry. If we are running late to an appointment we may wish to slow down and simply enjoy to sights since our tardiness is inevitable. In other words take the worst that can happen and adjust the ways in which we react to them.
Of course it is impossible to candy coat a tragedy as horrific as the murder of a loved one. Some things that happen to us are just so devastating that nothing can change the horror that we feel. What we can do is channel our feelings over time into the antithesis of the evil that we have seen. We can become so unlike the evil foisted on us that our kindness resonates with everyone that we meet.
One of my recent blogs resonated with a number of my friends and readers who had experienced cruelty from teachers who should have known better than to abuse a child. They wondered aloud how adults had not understood the damage that they were doing with their harsh words and uncaring actions. It is indeed unforgivable for someone charged with the important role of teaching to misuse that responsibility as an avenue for abuse. I took my own memories of bad teachers as a reminder to never use my words or actions to harm a student. I worked from the premise that my punishments should always focus on behaviors, not persons. I often told my recalcitrant pupils that I disliked what they had done, but I would never dislike them.
The past year has been more challenging for me than the years during the Covid pandemic. I have felt more isolated and sad. Mine has been a year of loss including a favorite aunt, a second mother-in-law, a very special friend, and a beloved cousin. My father-in-law has moved into my home changing the configuration of our routines much as a newborn child might do. My husband nearly died after a procedure that should have been a two day affair in the hospital. There have been no trips this year, mostly just long days adjusting to new routines. I have had bouts of anxiety and fear. There are times when I am exhausted and angry about my fate. I cry often and get irritated by small things. Then I get a call from a former students or an invitation to celebrate an engagement. I see that my life is only momentarily in a tiny bit of chaos. I know that this too shall pass because I will ultimately adjust the way I always have.
We may not be able to control what happens to us, but we can always take charge of how we react. If the event is so enormous that we are unable to know what next to do, we can always reach out for help. Being honest about our feelings may bring us to the person who will be able to sort things out. Perhaps a friend will let us scream for a moment. Maybe a therapist will listen to our woes and guide us to a better place. If we are religious we might find what we need from prayer or a visit to church. Maybe if we exercise or clean out a closet we may regain our perspective.
The point is not to only fester and fume. While anger may actually have a place in the process of healing it cannot be the ultimate destination. At some point we have to face down the tragedy and find ways of coping. It will be difficult. It will take time. It will be worth our efforts. We can be the authors of our feelings. We can decide how to deal with our personal realities. We write the stories and hopefully they will ultimately be triumphant.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 