Look to Shore

I often talk about the importance of perspective taking with clients.  It’s especially helpful when “woe is me” thinking hijacks the ability to see suffering as universal, not just individual. What’s interesting is that nobody wants to feel alone in their struggle, yet when operating from a paradigm of powerlessness, a lot of energy is spent spinning defeatist narratives reinforcing aloneness. Over time, attachment to suffering can become an identity that stands in the way of connection.

I notice the doldrums of winter amplifying negative thinking.  For some, Seasonal Affective Disorder kicks in hard and for others, the inconvenience of winter’s challenges (shoveling, salting, bundling up) are plentiful enough to paint the whole of winter black. Case in point: I went to get gas and the door to my gas tank was frozen shut. For a moment, I caught myself bemoaning the extra time and energy it took to get an otherwise simple task done, but it didn’t last long. One, I do love winter and two, as a therapist, my perspective taking muscle is strong.

Shortly after schlepping around in the early morning freeze, I started my workday with news of a client’s family member passing. Her death checks all the boxes of a tragedy:  sudden, untimely, leaving behind a young family, otherwise healthy, no family history…you get the gist. The news stunned me into silent heartbreak; I felt deeply bereft for my client’s loss. Just two weeks prior, she was very much alive, seeking medical help for symptoms that were concerning but not known to be life-threatening. It felt impossible to believe, a brutal reality ripe for feelings of unfairness, blame, and anger. And to be clear, expressions of all those things are natural parts of a healthy grieving process. Everyone deserves a safe space to stumble through the pangs of despair and devastation; healing requires it.  Learning how to fall without getting stuck is the birthplace of resilience.  No one - no matter the size of the hardship or how helpless it makes you feel - is without some way to paddle to shore.

Think of a current struggle—what story are you telling yourself about it? Is it moving you closer to shore or keeping you treading water?