I guess I should have posted this part before the bulleted points for it to make more sense. Please remember these are not my words. Though some of what this woman wrote did resonate with me.
In 2004 my beloved daughter Jesse died four days before her tenth birthday. Within nine months my precious son Cory was hospitalized following a near-fatal breakdown triggered by Jesse’s death. While no one is ever prepared for the death or serious illness of a child, I’ve realized in the last three years that, ironically, surviving the AIDS epidemic made my grief slightly easier to bear. For one thing, I had already survived the shock of seeing young, beautiful people whom I loved struck down out of the blue, dying before they even had a chance to savor life, for absolutely no good reason. I had long ago given up the illusion that life is fair, just, benevolent, predictable, or controllable.
And a year and a half ago I adopted two sisters, now aged twelve and eight, who had survived six years of neglect, starvation, and physical and emotional abuse after being abandoned to an institution in Guatemala. Cory is thriving, and with Alejandra and Diana and a ‘village’ of created family and friends, we’ve worked to reconstitute a new family. My experiences of the last three years have propelled me to concentrate on the mysteries of trauma and loss and how one recovers from these things, and both my own practice and IPG have benefited from this focus.
And while ‘happy’ is not a term I’d necessarily ever use to describe myself anymore, ‘wiser’ certainly is. This is what I know:
• Life is manifestly unfair. No amount of good behavior will buy you safety or happiness. No one here gets out alive. The Buddha was right: all human life involves suffering. The Bible is right: life is a ‘vale of tears.’
• Nothing important is under your control. Most of your life is determined at the moment of conception – your race, gender, nationality, family and social class of origin, and a multitude of biological characteristics, including a lot of your mental health. Much of the rest is determined by history, current events, or chance.
• A lot of what you believe to be under your control – your behavior, for example – is actually dictated by your unconscious mind. Every day, neuroscience discoveries point out the illusion of free will and free choice.
• Nevertheless, we have an imperative to act as if we have choices and personal control. It’s the only hope we have.
• There is most definitely not, as the platitude goes, a ‘reason for everything,’ at least not a good one, and everything does NOT work out for the best.
• But even though bad things happen to good people for no good reason – if you’re fortunate, you can create something meaningful from chaos and suffering. Furthermore, it is our responsibility to try.
• Most of us reading this newsletter – including me – are the ‘lucky ones.’ Every time I look at Ale and Diana and think of the lives they led, I remember that the majority of the people on our planet struggle daily merely to stay alive.
• Life is more complex than we can comprehend, and yet simpler than we think. In the words of Aldous Huxley: "It is a bit embarrassing to have been concerned with the human condition all one’s life and find at the end that one has no more to offer by way of advice than this: try to be a little kinder."
Or, as the Grateful Dead sang: "...What I want to know is: Are you kind?"
Peace
Margie Nichols
In 2004 my beloved daughter Jesse died four days before her tenth birthday. Within nine months my precious son Cory was hospitalized following a near-fatal breakdown triggered by Jesse’s death. While no one is ever prepared for the death or serious illness of a child, I’ve realized in the last three years that, ironically, surviving the AIDS epidemic made my grief slightly easier to bear. For one thing, I had already survived the shock of seeing young, beautiful people whom I loved struck down out of the blue, dying before they even had a chance to savor life, for absolutely no good reason. I had long ago given up the illusion that life is fair, just, benevolent, predictable, or controllable.
And a year and a half ago I adopted two sisters, now aged twelve and eight, who had survived six years of neglect, starvation, and physical and emotional abuse after being abandoned to an institution in Guatemala. Cory is thriving, and with Alejandra and Diana and a ‘village’ of created family and friends, we’ve worked to reconstitute a new family. My experiences of the last three years have propelled me to concentrate on the mysteries of trauma and loss and how one recovers from these things, and both my own practice and IPG have benefited from this focus.
And while ‘happy’ is not a term I’d necessarily ever use to describe myself anymore, ‘wiser’ certainly is. This is what I know:
• Life is manifestly unfair. No amount of good behavior will buy you safety or happiness. No one here gets out alive. The Buddha was right: all human life involves suffering. The Bible is right: life is a ‘vale of tears.’
• Nothing important is under your control. Most of your life is determined at the moment of conception – your race, gender, nationality, family and social class of origin, and a multitude of biological characteristics, including a lot of your mental health. Much of the rest is determined by history, current events, or chance.
• A lot of what you believe to be under your control – your behavior, for example – is actually dictated by your unconscious mind. Every day, neuroscience discoveries point out the illusion of free will and free choice.
• Nevertheless, we have an imperative to act as if we have choices and personal control. It’s the only hope we have.
• There is most definitely not, as the platitude goes, a ‘reason for everything,’ at least not a good one, and everything does NOT work out for the best.
• But even though bad things happen to good people for no good reason – if you’re fortunate, you can create something meaningful from chaos and suffering. Furthermore, it is our responsibility to try.
• Most of us reading this newsletter – including me – are the ‘lucky ones.’ Every time I look at Ale and Diana and think of the lives they led, I remember that the majority of the people on our planet struggle daily merely to stay alive.
• Life is more complex than we can comprehend, and yet simpler than we think. In the words of Aldous Huxley: "It is a bit embarrassing to have been concerned with the human condition all one’s life and find at the end that one has no more to offer by way of advice than this: try to be a little kinder."
Or, as the Grateful Dead sang: "...What I want to know is: Are you kind?"
Peace
Margie Nichols