Back in 2013 when I first learned that my kidneys had failed, I remember having a conversation with my nephrologist about survival. He is often hyper-focused on the physical aspects of surviving. He watches my lab values and wants me to eat right, keep my blood pressure down, try not to gain too much weight or lose too much weight. It seemed as though no one had any grasp of the idea that survival consists of so much more than merely staying alive. Between 2013 and 2015 I lost a lot. My health, a relationship, my parents, my financial security, my career and my home. You might say my life got leveled as though a bomb was dropped into the middle of it, sending all the parts of me that I worked so hard to build flying into shards around me. Physically, mentally, emotionally, there was little left of the person I thought I was. I needed survival, and what I managed to eek out for myself over the last five years was just that. I got by. In some ways, I might have thrived, but as I let my world shrink, my friendships fade, my career goals slide, I also let myself slide in to complacency.
If you think of it as a place, complacency is a location you don't want to stay in for too long. It feels as though you're holding onto things, but in reality, your'e letting them go. It's so easy to do--with a drama-free life, an easy job, Saturdays in pajamas in front of the TV, cancelled dinner plans, it all adds up after a while, and you find yourself in another place that is not at all easy or comfortable.
Regret. I moved this year, from Complacency to Regret as many of the things I neglected tending to for so long bubbled back to the surface. Some things were beyond my control, were not a result of my neglect, but all the same, stirred me out of my lazy stupor. I spent the first three months of the year fighting a battle with the Social Security department over an error made in an old income tax return. Just when that issue was settled and I thought life's wrinkles were about to smooth out again, I got a call from my boss telling me that I was losing my job. My job, that gave me purpose, friendships, goals, comfort and a little bit of income. It's funny how comfortable we can get with the rhythm of our days. A few months ago I couldn't imagine my life without my last job. I couldn't fathom my days without the people I felt so attached to, or the community I'd become a part of. I had this illusion of belonging that suddenly got shattered, and quite frankly, found myself feeling fragmented as well.
Who was I, if not the hard working community focused senior center director? I faced harsh criticism and accusations that I had not tried hard enough at my job, but I know and many others know that I gave it my all. Maybe that's what made losing it hurt more--the fact that I put so much of myself into it and still failed. It was the only thing over the last five years that I poured any of myself into besides my children. Suddenly I was face to face with a lifetime of failure and loss and I had to decide what to do with all of that.
I'm not going to lie, for a while it felt like the only sensible thing to do was give up. Why keep trying when everything inevitably falls apart anyway?
But then I remembered, I need to survive and there's more to surviving than merely staying alive.
I dug into my savings--the savings I needed to live on for a while, and brushed up on my training. I attended seminars and got certifications and learned new skills like teaching exercise classes. I took huge steps outside my comfort zone and found myself, finally moving beyond Complacency and Regret. It hasn't been easy. Moving is always a strain, financially, mentally, physically, emotionally, it has been grueling. These classes and certifications were costly and time-consuming, but I needed the opportunity to expand. Letting go of my old job was heart-breaking and scary, but I needed to step away from it to gain new perspective on my life. Living on a shoestring budget all year was extremely un-fun, but it showed me how resourceful I can be. I had to reach out to friends and family because whether we like it or not, we need other people if we are going to get through tough times. Everything together made for a very difficult year, but it also pushed me ahead, off the proverbial complacency couch and into a place called Growth.
What does it mean to live well? Is it a life free from adversity and pain? Is it a life without risk without the need to step too far from your own back door?
For a long while, I thought so. Bud adversity and change forced upon me taught me new lessons about life and about myself. It ain't over until it's over, and I still have life to live. I learned that I possess a great degree of resilience, that despite my often fatalistic view of myself, I do have a big picture view of my life still. I can still achieve things, I can still dream and learn and overcome. Sometimes I just need a push in the right direction.
It seems ironic that for most of my life I've worked in a field that focuses on giving other people a better quality of life. I brainstorm ways to help people with physical and mental limitations find purpose and joy in their everyday lives, but never stop to think about what gives me those things. I think I'm lucky that the universe gave me this cosmic shove into discomfort and uncertainty. If not for it, I would merely be a survivor.
Living well, for me, is beginning to look more like change. It is learning to accept risk and meet challenge head-on. It is stepping past my own safety zone to learn new things and practice new skills. It is becoming more assertive, learning to stand up for myself and advocate for myself better. I'm not sure where Growth is taking me, but but I think just over the horizon, I might find I've moved past Survival, and on to Overcoming.
No comments:
Post a Comment