Adversity

I have always faced adversity, but it has brought something out of me, and made me a success. — J. C. Penney

I honor adversity as a gift to help me grow. — Alan Cohen

It was two days before the Houston Marathon. I came home one evening from the TV studio where I am a regular panelist on health matters. I was in a great mood. The show had gone well; my answers had been brief, informative, and entertaining. Once we had gone off the air, I'd felt a higher energy in the studio. This energy had lingered long after the bright lights had been dimmed. During the segment I had tried hard to do what Franklin D. Roosevelt said: "Be sincere; be brief; be seated." That advice had worked well.

As soon as I returned home, I spotted my dog, Sage, a huge, gentle, and energetic black Labrador. Sage has been blessed with an amazing attitude. This enables her to live a zestful life. In many ways she is one of my best teachers. From her body language I could tell she was ready for a walk.

Soon after we headed outdoors into the cool, dark night, Sage spotted a rabbit. Fortunately for the rabbit, Sage was on a leash. I had no choice but to pick up the pace a bit as she forcefully strained in the direction of the rabbit. Unfortunately, she gained momentum, and soon I was pulled over, losing my grip on the uneven, slippery snow beneath my running shoes.

In the slowest of slow motions, I saw myself fly through the air and land hard on my left hip and shoulder. It was a nightmare. I could hardly stand on my left leg — and a marathon was forty-eight hours away! I limped home with Sage walking next to me, woefully looking into my eyes as if to say, "Sorry about that, but I could not help it, because that is what dogs do."

Fast-forward to Houston a few days later, and I held the finisher's medal in my hand. I was still limping but had covered the 26.2 miles anyhow, guided by a heart-rate monitor and enduring excruciating pain and discomfort for close to four hours.

When I flew back to Canada, I reflected on what had happened. Adversity has the potential to teach us lessons when we remain open to learn them. In this case, I was reminded that when we set goals in life and prepare for the right moment, we may face sudden setbacks. We then get to decide whether we go ahead, push hard, and give it our best shot or drop out, even before the race has started.

Inspired by the J. C. Penney quote at the start of the chapter, I chose to do my best, even though I knew it wouldn't be my best result. I have learned that too many people will not start something unless it is perfect. By living their lives this way, they miss out on some great adventures, challenges, and opportunities.

Those who wait for life to be perfect before they move forward remind me of a great poem by Leonard Cohen:

    Ring the bells that still can ring
    Forget your perfect offering.
    There is a crack in everything.
    That is how the light gets in.

The story of my injured days before an important marathon is rather simple, but it makes the point of how life can be perfect one moment, like a plane flying smoothly, and then suddenly, we encounter unexpected turbulence. We are suddenly shaken in all directions, wondering if our bumpy ride will somehow become smooth again — or maybe not. All of us, sooner or later, will face the shock of sudden change. Fear knocks at our door. I am reminded of the quote "Fear knocked at the door. Faith answered and no one was there." The problem, though, is that far too often fear comes back and knocks again.

Things went from bad to worse after the marathon: the electronic health records in my medical clinic caused major troubles; my favorite fountain pen's nib got damaged; my four kids, one after the other, caught viral infections; my wife was in a bad mood, fighting her own obstacles; and bills were ballooning all at once. I felt I was under an attack with all these events adding up together and causing unpleasant, unexpected obstacles in my life. These were not just a bend in my road; they were bumps, bouncing me all over the place, one after another.

While facing these challenges, I was reminded of these words, which synchronistically showed up at just the right moment: "When life presents challenges and we are able to utilize them, we are wise." It has been stated that we profit from our pain when we advance from our adversity. I could truly understand what these words meant because of my personal experiences.

To utilize adversity is not easy. It requires a patient persistence. President Calvin Coolidge said, "Nothing in the world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent."

Various kinds of relentless adversities seem to strike us all at once, one problem after another. It seems like waves crashing repeatedly against rocks by the edge of the ocean. The writer C. S. Lewis said that "hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny." I am convinced from my experiences as a physician that hardships indeed prepare many of us for a destiny far bigger than we can imagine at our time of pain.

Scripture calls these hardships trials. The Bible goes on to even say, "Consider it all joy, knowing that the testing of one's faith delivers patience." (James 1:2 NKJV, emphasis mine) Most of us do not choose adversity as the avenue to joy! Instead, we tend to fear hardships and avoid them at all costs. We may even question the reasons for our hardships by asking, "Why me?" In a fit of anger we may even shout, "Life is not fair!"

Plenty of people have read Rabbi Harold Kushner's book When Bad Things Happen to Good People. I suspect many of those readers felt they had made a deal with God, believing that they would be protected from pressures as long as they obeyed the rules. But this is not how God operates. We all experience cares, difficulties, and troubles — life is impermanent, and it evolves constantly. At some point all of us get an invitation to view adversities as our best teachers. Nobody is immune. Surrendering to the fact that we are not in full control, we grow from adversities and move forward after painful experiences.

When we grow from adversity, we become wise. Pain should never be allowed to go to waste. As someone observed, "Progress without pain is not possible." We move forward when we allow adversity to deliver life's lessons; pain has the potential to make us more resilient; our level of insight, enlightenment, and awareness increase. Like trees buffeted by storms, our root system deepens when we face challenges, but only if we surrender and remain openhearted. It is when trees resist storms that their branches break.

One outstanding advantage of adversity, soaring far above the other benefits, is the lesson that our pain produces compassion. Overcoming adversity by moving forward makes us more compassionate toward others who face similar awful experiences.

We all may have different stories, but basically they are the same: everyone encounters problems. Problems often pounce on us when we least expect them. It is as if the stories of our lives read like happy novels, but then a sudden shift in the next chapter turns things upside down. Pema Chodron, a well-respected Buddhist nun, uses the analogy of a bird being thrown from a nest all of a sudden; the comfort of the warm nest is gone in an instant.

Sooner or later we discover life's impermanence. The very vicissitudes we read about in the lives of others suddenly strike us, apparently from nowhere, and shake us like a hunting dog violently shakes its prey, freshly trapped between its clenched jaws.

Life Is like a Grindstone

Motivational speaker and best-selling author, Zig Ziglar once observed, "Life is like a grindstone. Whether it wears you down or polishes you up depends on what you are made of."

Will you allow adversity to wear you down or polish you up? This decision becomes the fork in the road where we have to make a choice: it can keep us stuck in dark depression and even cause us to slowly slide backward, or it can propel us forward. Our attitudes toward adversity become our quantum moments (moments we never forget, because they impact the trajectory of our lives forever). Our perspective determines whether we grow bitter or better. That is what this chapter is all about.

Adversity reveals what we are made of in terms of our endurance and patience. We discover where and when our endurance has its limits. It is often during adversity that we discover what our assets are and also what our weaknesses and limitations are. A painful crisis can teach us that we do not have as much control as our "sophisticated" egos would have us believe. (In this book when I use the word ego, I use it in the context being singularly self-centered. Whenever I see the word ego, it reminds me of Dr. Wayne Dyer's definition: edging God out.)

Adversity can polish us up by forcing us to ask deep questions about the roots of our suffering. We may wrestle with what I call, "the tough questions triggered by tough times." We may resist dealing with these questions. Or we can learn the lessons delivered to our inbox — lessons customized just for us with our address written in bold letters. When we are on the grindstone, getting polished by life's adversities, various questions swirl through our troubled minds.

Some may start by questioning the role of God. Some spiritual seekers assert that God causes adversity. They blame God for adversity or at least claim that He allows it for a specific purpose. God did it for a reason, and His wisdom never fails. "He is sovereign," they tell people facing pain. "Therefore we must simply trust His decisions for both the good and the bad in our lives." Many of us may make our best efforts to see the hand of God in our suffering. But what does the word God mean?

When the word God is mentioned in the Alcoholics Anonymous twelve-step program, it is followed by "as we understand Him." After many years of studying spirituality, I have concluded that God is too complex to fully understand. It is that simple. No human being shall ever fully understand God. The key word here is fully. I suppose some are extremely developed in their faith, but at best they understand only a part of God. Nobody understands God fully. Nobody can claim that he or she is God's counselor. We refer to God as a higher power because God's unfathomable ways are far deeper than our limited ways, far higher than our highest IQ, and far wider than our wonderful wisdom.

What about those of us who are deeply offended by the word God? For some, God does not exist. Engaging in questions about God is a waste of time. In fact, the idea of God frankly angers many. Instead of trying to figure God out, some say, "It's a waste of time to think too much. Just endure." They claim, "Every negative has a root somewhere. Let's find it and deal with it." They add, "Keep a stiff upper lip; keep calm and move forward." To them life just happens; every event unfolds simply by coincidence after coincidence after coincidence after coincidence; all of these events happen completely by chance. "It's all random," they declare with calm conviction in their voices.

I am not sure anyone understands exactly what the correct answer may be when we search for the roots of our inevitable suffering. We may never agree on the roots. But for some of us, the reality is that adversities squeezed us like a tightly coiled python until we were brought to a place of surrendering to a higher power. Like an addict, we realize that we are powerless and that it is time to surrender to a force infallible in its intelligence.

People of various philosophies often sense the love and provision of an invisible force at work during their deepest, darkest times. For some of us it takes many storms to learn this single lesson. We may be shocked to the core at first, overflowing with deep sorrow and struggling as we resist the inevitable. The ultimate path to peace is surrender. Some call it the art of allowing. Others may refer to it as being detached from the outcome.

One way to process adversity is to consider that when it happens, we have the choice of deciding to grow from it or allow it to ruin our lives. It can polish us up or wear us down. Will we learn the lessons we are destined to learn when we suffer?

How we handle obstacles in life determines who we become. Adversity transforms us, and as a caterpillar is transformed into a butterfly, once we are truly transformed, we can never go back to being a caterpillar. It is not a mere change; it is a profound transformation. Adversity shapes our character only if we allow it to prune and polish us.

Booker T. Washington once said, "Success is not to be measured by the position someone has reached in life, but the obstacles he has overcome while trying to succeed." It has also been said that the record books do not keep records of the score at half time. So never base how you will finish on how well you are doing somewhere along your struggles. Stay patient as you are polished and pruned by life's challenges. To be patient is hard; not being patient is harder in the long run.

An Idea While Running in the Snow

Not so long ago, I went outside early one dark, stormy morning and was surprised by snowflakes, driven at ninety-degree angles into my exposed face. Although an arctic air mass had plunged temperatures far below freezing, I was glad I'd decided to head outside, because within thirty minutes of my run, I heard in my consciousness, How long will it last? At that time, a time of facing one of the worst storms in my life, I felt as if the only thing that kept me sane while I was going through hell and back was my morning runs.

If we were to look back at some of our disappointments and frustrations, we have to admit that many arrived unexpectedly but that the vast majority had a shelf life. They passed in the end. Problems pass just like the snowstorm from that memorable morning run.

I read somewhere that a man kept a picture of a boat stranded on a beach above his desk in his office. The picture was captioned "The tide always comes back." That image can become a meaningful metaphor for many of our troubles.

Many problems are only temporary. You can say, "This too shall pass." I have learned two simple truths when trouble strikes:

• Ask what lesson this experience will teach you.

• Know that all troubles eventually pass when we either die or adjust to what is. Nothing should disturb or dismay us.

Becoming Left-Handed in a Hurry

It is important to remind ourselves that some adversity is self-inflicted.

A few years ago I was forced to become left-handed for a few weeks due to a splinted finger on my right hand. The tendon by the tip of my finger had snapped apart when I had bent the finger the wrong way as a result of getting it caught while hurriedly getting dressed one day. I have observed that numerous "accidents" are a result of being in a hurry or being fatigued and thus losing focus.

My wife saw the commotion and said, "You have a mallet finger." I Googled it, and she was right. I had a mallet finger. It meant a splint for six weeks straight — not even for a second could I take the finger out of the splint. But the tide came back. Eventually this also passed. Today I can look at my finger, and there is not even a sign of that damage. It is 100 percent healed and functions like new.