In this together

Pardon my veering off the research path here, but my mind is full this week with thoughts that I cannot set aside, so I’m just going to share a bit of it with you in the hope that it may be good for all of us. 

This is about the fragility of life as we know it. You can be moving along through your day, comfortable with whatever your routine may be, and doing everything you do to keep that groove going. Maybe you are planning a vacation, or talking over a gameplan for buying a second car. It could be something as simple as chatting over what to have for dinner, or who will run out to the grocery store later. 

It is different for each of us, of course, our daily schedules, our life stories, but we tend to go through the routines that we have established for ourselves practically on “autopilot.”

We all do it, and why shouldn’t we? We fill our lives with activity out of necessity, passion, interest, or boredom. Many of us find a partner to share those activities and build a life with, and the result is the ongoing story of our life unfolding into the future.

Until life throws you a curve ball.

Someone you love takes ill. It is sudden, and it is stunning. All of a sudden, you have no control over the routine you have accepted as your “life.” The life story you were living now seems like someone else’s, and you don’t recognize the future that is being suggested or, rather, threatened, by this uninvited visitor disguised as illness.

Naturally, fear takes hold because when we love, we attach ourselves to those we love and we want them to be with us, always. Anything that jeopardizes that peaceful existence scares us because we cannot “fix” it, stop it, or make it go away. All we can control is how we’ll deal with it.

We “go there” immediately when a loved one takes ill. Why? Perhap it is a natural human response. But why wouldn’t the natural response be a positive one? Because these are high stakes, that’s why. Losing a loved one is a nightmare, and even though we know it must happen one day, none of us is ever ready for “one day.”

It’s difficult to reject fear until you remind yourself that fear is really just the absence of faith. Nobody makes that leap instantly, however, especially when someone you love is thrown into a frightening, possibly life-threatening illness that no one saw coming.

This could be an accelerated experience of anticipatory grief, which I’ve talked about before, but more likely, it is a natural reaction to the potential for devastating loss. The difference, to me, is that the former is related to an expected, eventual loss while the latter is an instantaneous reaction to the unexpected news. We “prepare” ourselves through anticipatory grief; with unexpected illness, there is no way we can be “ready” so our worry escalates at an accelerated rate.

I don’t think it is because we are a species of pessimists. I think it does give us an opportunity to reflect on the human experience. We are all in this together. That is one of the reasons we share our losses with others, why we mourn openly, why we let others see our fear. 

We need each other. When we open up to others, we give ourselves a fighting chance to get through whatever the difficulty is. We allow others to feel our pain because we know, at some level we know, they will be there for us. 

I have been chirping this week -- to myself and to others around me -- about the power of positive thinking. I know these are only words, but there is power behind the words. When summoned from the masses, the energy of good thoughts must surely be an amazing thing. 

It only takes the presence of mind to focus your thoughts on the good, and to let those good thoughts take root. Then pass it on. 

Copyright 2011 by Marianne V. Heffernan