IF I were asked to give what I consider the single-most useful bit of advice for all humanity, it would be this: Expect trouble as an inevitable part of your life and when it comes, hold your head high, look it squarely in the eye and say “I will be bigger than you. You cannot defeat me.” Then repeat to yourself the most comforting of all words, “This, too, shall pass.”
To forgive oneself in the face of a devastating experience is perhaps the most difficult of life’s challenges. Most of us find it much easier to forgive others. I have seen people full of self-recrimination — which proves that no punishment is so painful as the self-inflicted kind. Here are a few examples:
“I got caught cheating in the history exam today. All the students know about it. I feel rotten.”
“I threw a dish towel in my sister’s face. She was trying to be helpful and I lost my temper. I hate myself.”
I think the best strategy to handle these kinds of situations is this simple advice: “It’s done. Finished. Over. There is nothing you can do to change the past. Take heart from the knowledge that something good can come out of it, if it teaches you a lesson. Profit from it and then forget it.”
It was my high school English teacher who taught me the futility of rehashing the past. One day, as the students filed into her classroom, we noticed a glass of milk standing on her desk. “This morning, I’m going to teach you a lesson that has nothing to do with English, but it has a lot to do with life.” She picked up the glass and crashed it on the floor. “The lesson is don’t cry over spilled milk.” Then she invited us to look at the wreckage. “I want all of you to remember this,” she said. “Would any of you attempt to restore the glass to it original form? Does it do any good to wish the glass had not been broken? Look at this mess! You can moan over it forever, but it won’t put the glass back together again. Remember this glass of milk when something happens in your life that nothing can undo.”
In many instances we cannot control what happens to us, but we can control our reactions to what happens to us. We can stay down for the count and be carried out of the ring, or we can pull ourselves back to our feet. If others victimize us, we must refuse to give them the power to break out spirit, make us physically ill, and perhaps even shorten our lives. Most doctors will tell you that worry, tension, anxiety and anger can make you more sick than a virus!
The expression “nervous breakdown” suggests that the nerves have broken down, but organically the nerves are healthy. The problem is emotional. A doctor on the staff of the Services Hospital in Lahore said that a majority of the patients in hospital beds today were here because of the illnesses that were psycho-generated. This means that sickness was triggered by unresolved problems.
So when you find that someone has “done you wrong,” refuse to allow yourself to be consumed with hatred or bitterness. Hatred is like acid. It can do more damage to the container in which it is stored than to the object on which it is poured.
Even though we may lead the good life and fight the good fight, we are sometimes ripped up not by others but by the mere process of living. Call it bad luck, fate, whatever you choose — some troubles are beyond human control. How do you handle them?
I believe in blind faith. I have known people who have suffered personal tragedies, and faith has helped them. But I also believe in the efficacy of positive action to overcome grief. Time is a healer, but those who help time by using it wisely and well make rapid adjustments.
Grief, in part, is self-pity turned inside out. The widow who wails, “He was everything to me. How can I do without him?” is crying for herself, not for him. The mourner who refuses to let go of his griefs eventually isolates himself from his friends. The world may stop for a few hours to hold a hand or wipe away a tear, but friends and relatives have problems of their own. Life goes on — and those who refuse to go on with it are left alone to wallow in their misery.
The best prescription for a broken heart is activity. I don’t mean plunging into a social whirl or running off on trips. Too many people who try to escape by doing just that succeed only in taking their troubles with them. The most useful kind of activity involves doing something for others. You can always tell yourself: “Enough of this breast-beating. No matter how bad things are with you, there is someone who is worse off and you can help him.”
Most touching to me is heroism — the courage and faith of average people in the world. I am moved by magnificent people who tell me such facts, “My husband lost his leg in an accident shortly after we were married, but we manage beautifully” or “l have had two operations for cancer; but I know I will be able to attend my only son’s wedding in December and I am so thankful for that.”
No one knows why life must be so punishing to some of Allah’s finest creatures. Perhaps, it is true that everything has a price and we must sacrifice something precious to gain something else. Poets and philosophers say adversity, sorrow and pain give our life an added dimension. Those who suffer deeply touch life at every point; they drain the cup to the dregs while others sip only the bubbles on top. Perhaps no one can touch the stars until he has known the depths of despair — and fought his way back.
