Letting go and finding peace

Ego says, "Once everything falls into place, I'll feel peace." Spirit says, "Find your peace, and then everything will fall into place." (Marianne Williamson)

I came across this quote the other day, and it resonated with me, especially now after many years of struggling to make work-related issues fall into place. Sometimes they did, other times I hit the wall or fumbled the ball and had to come up with new strategies. I kept thinking that once work issues were solved, I’d be in a better place psychologically and then I could find peace of mind. I discovered that it didn’t work that way for me. Things didn't 'fall into place' (work out as I wanted) no matter how hard I tried to make them do so, and I had to learn a new way of being. Additionally, the idea that we can make things fall into place by exerting control over situations or people is an illusion that is sold to us as sound advice over and over, in advice columns, self-help books, via well-meaning colleagues and friends. We're often told that 'we choose our lives or the situations that happen to us'. That may be true at times, but it is not an absolute. People want the best for us--I do believe that, at least the people who care about us. They mean well. But their words cannot guarantee a desired outcome any more than can our attempts to control that desired outcome. Things in life don’t always fall into place; we can't mold life to suit our desires. We don’t always get what we want, when we want it or how we want it, but we have to live our lives anyway, dealing with the jumble of stressful feelings that the struggle for control and order create in us.  

Although we can hope that things will fall into place, we cannot make them fall into place. I think another way of saying this is ‘let go and let God’. In all instances, the realization that we can have peace of mind without striving for full control and order, is freeing and peaceful in and of itself. During the past few years, I have rediscovered the joys of just being—something I was more in tune with when I was a teenager--not always having something to do or somewhere to be. When I am out walking in nature, I am with nature, looking and listening to the birds, watching the clouds go by, enjoying the warm sunshine in the midst of winter. I don’t want to be connected to social media; I don’t even need conversation sometimes. I just want to be. I think that is peace of soul and mind. When I find myself wondering or worrying about how situations are going to turn out and what my role in them might be, I tell myself to let go and to take a step back, so that I can view the situation from afar. It helps me maintain perspective. Perspective helps me maintain objectivity, something that gets lost when I get too involved in worrying about or trying to force the outcome of a situation. Perspective gives me peace, and the odd thing is that when I feel peaceful, I am much less concerned with the outcome of a particular situation, perhaps because I realize that I do not have complete control over anything. There is too much to obsess over in modern society, too much to chase, too many goals, too many material things to distract us and destroy peace, and too many interruptions. There is too little time for reflection, stillness and solitude. I want peace more now than I want any of the other things. At this point in my life, peace is worth gold.

The books of M. Scott Peck and Rollo May

Years ago, I discovered the writer and psychiatrist M. Scott Peck, who wrote a book that helped to change my way of looking at some important aspects of my life. ‘The Road Less Traveled’ (published in 1978) was an eye-opener of a book, one that I have recommended to many people through the years. The book’s basic tenet is that life is difficult and that personal and spiritual growth is a lifelong process involving hard work, struggle, pain and introspection. Reading it made me realize at a fairly young age that it was possible to change your life; that the hand of cards you were dealt was not a permanent hand. It was possible to rise above personal and family problems and the inefficient and often stagnant ways of dealing with them. But the key was to be actively invested in doing so; it was important to understand and accept that the work involved would be difficult and that there would be no immediate gratification. Peck is one of the few authors to whom I have written; I was so enamored of his book. Even though I was disappointed to subsequently learn about his alcoholism, marital infidelities, and other problems, it made me realize that he probably wrote the book as much for himself as for his readers. I wanted him to be a person without faults; there are no such persons, and he would be the first to admit that. He was not always able to practice what he preached. I also read Peck’s ‘People of the Lie: The Hope for Healing Human Evil’, published in 1983. It is a much more disturbing book since it presented and discussed his patients, albeit anonymously, who had chosen to live in the darkness of their problems (pathological lying, cheating, neuroses, anxieties, obsessions, banal evil) rather than seek the light of truth (facing themselves and their problems and fears), health and recovery.

Rollo May, another of my favorite authors, was a psychiatrist who wrote many excellent books, such as The Meaning of Anxiety, Love and Will, and The Courage to Create, published in 1950, 1969, and 1975, respectively. My father introduced me to his writings when I was a teenager. I read The Meaning of Anxiety when I was in my early twenties, and it was one of those light-switch books—books that have the ability to push you from darkness into the light. The power of the printed word never ceases to amaze me. Little wonder that ‘the pen is mightier than the sword’. Words can change your perspective on things, and in this case, May’s words changed my perspective on anxiety. Rather than viewing it as a major problem to be eliminated on the path to mental health, his view was that anxiety is necessary for personal growth, and that it forces us to act, in order to alleviate the anxiety or to help us confront what it is we are anxious about (what we fear?). Doing so allows us to live life to the fullest. In Love and Will, May discusses different types of love and how they should be intertwined. The ideas of purpose and responsibility related to love are discussed at length. In The Courage to Create, May writes about the importance of creativity and art in our lives; this quote from his book best describes his views, beautifully so:  

“If you wish to understand the psychological and spiritual temper of any historical period, you can do no better than to look long and searchingly at its art. For in the art the underlying spiritual meaning of the period is expressed directly in symbols………They (the artists) have the power to reveal the underlying meaning of any period precisely because the essence of art is the powerful and alive encounter between the artist and his or her world."

The Surrealism of Illness

Since the New Year began, major illness has already reared its ugly head for two people I know, one a close personal friend who received the diagnosis of multiple systemic atrophy of the brain, the other a valued colleague and friend who suffered most of the autumn with a persistent cough and was recently diagnosed with lung cancer. In both cases, when I heard the news, I was truly shocked. It just seemed so unreal and so unbelievable that this could be happening to them. When I finally ‘came to’, I realized that I have to learn how to be strong so that I can be there for the both of them in the best way I know how. Because their shock and disbelief, their sorrow and pain, are so much greater than mine; they have to tackle the surrealism of being given a diagnosis that could mean an earlier passage from this life compared to the rest of us. I cannot imagine what that must feel like. I do know what it feels like to witness the journeys of two friends who were diagnosed with breast cancer a decade ago. One of them received a diagnosis of breast cancer when she was sitting in her doctor’s office. She fainted on hearing the news. Luckily her husband was with her and he caught her as she fell off her chair. She was operated on to remove her tumor, received chemo and radiation, and is disease-free today. Another friend of mine was not so lucky; she passed away three years ago from metastatic breast cancer. She was diagnosed with breast cancer shortly after my other woman friend, underwent an operation to remove the tumor, but did not start with chemotherapy right away for reasons that made sense then but no longer now. Just because no cancer was found in the surrounding lymph nodes is no reason to not undergo chemo. But doctors have their viewpoints, and they most often prevail.

At times, I am struck by the surrealism that surrounds illness. It just seems so unreal at times and impossible to deal with, whereas at other times I am more inured to the idea of illness. I have a long relationship with illness; my father had his first heart attack when I was twelve years old, his second when I was twenty-one, his first stroke when I was in my mid-twenties, and the stroke that took his life when I was twenty-nine. I remember growing up worrying that my father could die at any time. I know he worried about the same thing because he told me that and so many other things on our walks together during summer evenings when I was a teenager. He had a wife and three children to consider in addition to the fear that he might die young. He was sixty-seven when he died, and that is young. When you are a child, you are perhaps somewhat more protected psychologically than you are when you are older and a loved one gets sick and dies. When I was twelve, I remember that my father was home on sick leave, that he watched TV and soap operas with us, and that he read a lot. It was enjoyable to have him home and available to us. When I was in my twenties, I understood more of what chronic illness can do to the afflicted person as well as to his or her family. The stress associated with worrying about a loved one affects the lives of those around him or her. Love becomes tightly connected with sorrow and the preparation for loss. Our teenage years were not carefree or sorrow-free.

I have learned to live with hopeful optimism and an objective realism where major illness is concerned. They co-exist within me, side by side, without battling each other for dominance. I pray for miracles at the same time that I know that there aren’t many of them. I’m aware of the statistics; I’m a cancer researcher, I know the odds associated with major illnesses, not just cancer. But I pray anyway for both of my friends. I also pray for the strength to be a good and supportive friend in the years ahead. It scares me to think that I won’t know what to do, how to be, or what to say. But then I remember my father, and how the most important thing was just to love each other. In the end, it comes down to that. Make the most of the time you have together. Create good memories. Life is short; for some of us, it is shorter, but all of us will face the day when we must leave this earth for good. That’s a thought that is always with me, since I was a child. 

A poem for Valentine's Day--How Do I Love Thee--by Elizabeth Barrett Browning

How Do I Love Thee (Sonnet 43) 

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day's

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

I love thee freely, as men strive for right.

I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

(by Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

Getting to know Wattpad

I’ve discovered yet another social media community, Wattpad.com, a community of writers and readers, more specifically, of writers who post their works online for Wattpad members to read, comment and vote on. It appears to be quite an active and engaged community, with the support of no less than the internationally-known Canadian author Margaret Atwood. Wattpad describes its community thusly in the About Us section on their website:

Wattpad is the world's largest community for discovering and sharing stories. It's a new form of entertainment connecting readers and writers through storytelling, and best of all, it's entirely free. With thousands of new stories added every day, an incredibly active community of readers, and the ability to read on your computer, phone, or tablet, Wattpad is the only place that offers a truly social, and entirely mobile reading experience.

I’m fascinated by this community, and became a member this past weekend; it’s enticing to think about sharing my writing this way, and I’ve already done so. I posted two short stories as a way to get started: one entitled An Unusual Offer; the other entitled Before My Eyes. They will eventually be part of a collection of short stories that I plan on publishing. If you want to read them, you'll have to join the Wattpad community.

I know that I’ve got to work at reading others’ works, following other authors, and commenting and voting on others’ works—in other words, I’ve got to contribute if I want feedback on my own work. So that’s my new adventure these days; I’m writing and taking the chance of posting my short stories and hoping for good feedback and constructive criticism. I’ll keep you posted on how it goes from time to time.

Top ten posts as of 11 February 2014

These are the most-read posts on A New Yorker in Oslo. It's always interesting to look at the statistics and to see which posts engage readers. Thank you for continuing to follow this blog and for your interesting and inspirational comments through the years. I enjoy interacting with you.

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