The Edge of Resilience

I lost it ! Blew my cool, had a meltdown, threw a hissy fit, hit the roof, blew a fuse, flew off the handle. alternately sobbing and ranting… scared the heck out of Doug and me both…get the picture? The details leading to my blowup aren’t important because there are always going to be triggers no matter your life circumstances. Suffice to say it was over a really minor issue, the proverbial straw on the camel’s back. But my subsequent process of reflection and thought redirection to defuse and re-center are vital to physical, emotional and spiritual well-being, and the basis of my blog today.

I’ve always considered myself to be very resilient. Stuff happens, you take it in, consider options, make the best decision you can and go on, knowing that more stuff will happen and you’ll still be fine. That steadfastness comes from experiencing lots of challenges through the years and meeting them with courage and firmness of purpose through the tears, persisting in the face of obstacles, being open to learning the hard life lessons and applying them for self-improvement and life-enhancement. That’s worked pretty well for me through divorce, single parenting, professional provocations, health issues, navigating all the usual chapters in one’s life novel. Even in the most trying experiences, I had a knowing – that spiritual awareness – that all would be well eventually, even when things seemed darkest. I was resilient!

Recently, though, I’ve felt much less able to persevere – traversing an emotional tightrope over a huge dark abyss with danger at both ends of the rope is the best analogy I can think of. I often feel so prickly, that one misstep , one moment of distraction or inattention at the wrong time – “just one more thing” -will result in an emotional tumble down to a place of “I just can’t do this anymore!” Unsure of how far I might descend and scared that there there is no safety net beneath me, I’m constantly on this edge of resilience. It is foreign to me and frightening. It’s not at all suicidal or anywhere akin to thoughts of self harm in nature, just a dull, constant ache of needing to escape back to familiar territory of “I know how to do this.” This mindframe, the “stinkin thinkin” is what led to my major meltdown this week, and the subsequent challenge I faced, the deep need to get back to BALANCE!

Balance has always been one of my favorite words. I’ve told my kids since they were little that a good life is “all about balance” and of course I have an acronym for it.

Being in Alignment with Life’s Abundant Numinous Creative Energy ( Life Force – God!)

I desperately wanted to be back in the land of light and serenity, back into balance quickly, like just flipping a light switch and presto! Clarity and Peace… just like that, but it isn’t that easy! It took the time and energy of deep self-reflection, asking for forgiveness from Doug and getting right with him, then self-forgiveness and speaking gently to my soul, treating the self-inflicted wounds to my psyche, my heart – all at the cost of a good night’s sleep! I do some of my best self-reflection and deep spiritual listening at night. I played Karen Drucker’s sweet song “Gentle with Myself” several times to soften the places where the anger felt impenetrable. Tough 24 hours!

Revelations came, a soft light of understanding and deep sweet peace slowly dawned, emerging first as quiet feelings, then as words and lessons for my mind to consider so I could begin to reframe my raging thoughts. I kept hearing the word “privilege” whispered repeatedly in my head. I realized what a privilege it is to experience this part of my life with my beloved Doug – all of it – the repetition and word loss, nonsense sentences, the lack of short term memory, the constancy of care and minute to minute changes in orientation, the not knowing, and…the love, the caring, the laughter, the tears. Then came the realization of the sadness. The recognition of that deep sadness was a huge breakthrough moment of clarity, allowing me to change the way I was thinking and reacting. Fr. Richard Rohr, in his book “The Tears of Things” writes, “After a lifetime of counseling and retreat work – not to mention my own spiritual direction – I have become convinced that most anger comes, first of all, from a place of deep sadness.”

I realized I have been grieving – grieving the loss of the Doug that was, our life that was, our intended future plans – all the unknowns, the change. I’m grieving the loss of any semblance of a “usual day” that we used to enjoy. It is just plain sad to wonder each day if your husband is going to know who you are, how much you love him…remember that he loves you!

I knew this was the truth of my anger – deep sadness. But identifying it, naming it, enabled me to change my thoughts, to redirect them. Now, knowing and feeling this experience as privilege. allowed balance. Things are different and unexpected, and even unwanted, but we still have a love-filled and abundant life. My peace and gratitude came flowing back. I have clarity and an understanding acceptance that walking a tightrope might still be part of my journey, but there are joys on both sides of that trip across this canyon called dementia. I have a  balancing pole to help me maintain stability on that trek, and the tightrope has become more of a wider bridge to walk, with abundant blessings at one end and deep gratitude on the other. It’s harder to tip over, and allows for easier corrections of balance without the rage and loss of sleep. The canyon below is no longer a deep dark abyss; it is now beautifully lit with sweet reminders of each day when patience and loving helpfulness make things better. I have a safety net in place – spiritual practices, incredibly loving and helpful family and friends, an accessible team of knowledgeable health care providers, a beneficial array of resources at my fingertips, a supportive spiritual community.

My resilience is no longer on a thin edge where I constantly feel on the brink of despair and anger. I’m back on firm ground, a wide swath of fertile abundance as my base. Being able to authentically name sadness as a cause for my unexpected outburst of rage brought me back to a place of alignment – my balance restored. I know this doesn’t mean the sadness is gone or that I won’t feel angry and lost sometimes given the circumstances. But I also know even as my grief may continue to manifest in different ways though this journey, I will be able to manage, to thrive again with my renewed resilience!! I am so grateful.