Complacency is like a building with a pile of playing cards, because this life even if it teaches anything, the lesson is that we can not avoid problems and loss. Happiness is not the art of building a life free from problems. Happiness is the art to respond well when we approached the problem.
I myself had a broken heart when an early age. At that time I was young and in love, [I] a doctorate in psychology who was a rising, newly married, and feel more or less established. Then, my world was collapsing.
I'm enjoying the most beautiful day of my life. My second son was born, and he was so gentle, small, and adorable. I see no resemblance to my face, and it was like finding gold. I imagine the life ahead of him-term infants, toddlers, childhood, college years, and so on-and all this makes my life feel much happier and united with the world. When I held the little cheerful, he's like a love that manifests as a human being small in my hand. And then the doctor said, "Something's wrong."
My courage disappeared instantly and I could feel his heart pounding like a kick from inside the chest when the doctor started to encourage Ryan to breathe.
Not long after, when Ryan rolled uncertain in an incubator at the wall of thick glass, the doctor told me in a tense voice that Ryan apparently suffering from hyaline membrane syndrome, alveolar bag malfunction in the lungs. The hospital had no equipment to deal with it, so Ryan was rushed by ambulance to the hospital a more complete in the big city.
Memories of the ambulance, red lights glowing in the dark night, etched into my brain.
We seek everything that can be pursued, including praying, of course, but the little Ryan finally died.
Because my wife is still being treated in hospital for recovery after childbirth by cesarean section, I have to finish all the affairs of death itself-looking funeral service providers in the phone book, choose the location of the funeral that if appropriate, purchase a small coffin, and ordering tombstones and tried to think what words will be inscribed on it. What can I say?
Believe me, my words are not to be seen again: the worst memories in your life will never fade.
I'm drowning in sorrow. Even now, no matter how painful this heart since the death of my father, I know that nothing can cure sorrow that tortured me at the time. I can not be entertained, not be afraid to start every day, and even more afraid to face the future that unfolds, feel completely powerless to save me from feeling emotions slumped, slumped, and slumped.
I asked the Lord, "Why me?" And every time I find an answer, I argue. No, we do not schedule it was too quick delivery. No, not my fault that the small hospital could not help him. No, the disease is not congenital. No, I do not do something so evil that deserves all this. I wrestled with God-but that's the struggle that you never win.
Because my life goes, whether I like it or not, I am trying to reunite the pieces of my world. But, like most people, even as a young psychologist who should be more wise, I tried to find back my world by using the adjustment mechanisms are more harmful than helpful. At that moment, everything made sense, even feel brave. However, since then I realized that the adjustment mechanism that I use it instead to strengthen the walls of the prison of grief and fear.
Now, I have a low term for self-adjustment mechanism that does not fix the situation: 5M Misleading. While struggling to survive emotionally, I demand that my fate changed, although there will be no changes that may seem sufficient. When I was not satisfied with everything that happened, I underestimate my efforts to recover, and getting lost in helplessness. Then, I started cursing myself and think that somehow I deserved to receive this tragedy, because I am not wise enough to recognize a deficiency in me. Instead of trying to draw a lesson from the events lose it, I ignore all the lessons from there. I see all this as pain and nothing else beyond that. And when the top of each other failures, I desperately duplicate all the effort was misguided, thinking that if only I could devote more of my feelings and soul into this ordeal, I would find a way out.
All it never became real. Misleading 5M will always betray you. It's surprising that they are so famous.
Then one day, when I've had enough to bear even one more second thinking terrible attacks, I pretended for a few seconds, or maybe just one or two minutes, that Ryan was still alive in our midst, and I let I myself love him, like the first time I picked him.
For a short time, the darkness was fading. Disclaimers indeed serves as a comfortable oasis.
However, I wonder whether the denial was that treat me? Inside my head, I was acutely aware that my child was dead. So, without any pretense that I let myself go back to focusing my love to Ryan. And a sense of peace from the suffering that went back again.
Long-after so long, I find that when I deliberately allowed myself to gather all the love to Ryan, I really feel better odd-surprise-instead of feeling worse.
I also discovered that I could still love Ryan although in fact he would never return my love will never even know me. I realized that my love to Ryan (and not the love she told me) is the legacy he left behind, and nobody can take it away. Except my own. And I do not want to let go. Love is too strong and too beautiful. Love was the only feeling that is stronger than pain of loss.
Every day, initially with tears, I set aside time to enjoy a peaceful rest my love for the little guy. Gradually, the love that I felt began to bless me with more than just an escape from suffering. Love it also gave me the emotional strength to forgive, and stop torturing myself with the question "Why me?" In the murder of emotion like this, one can only blame anyone and everyone-doctors who should know better, an ambulance driver who should not drive faster, the taxpayers who refuse to build a larger hospital. Yourself. Fate. God. However, I forgive. I took off my friendship with anger that feels a little cozy.
When I do all this, I find that my anger is just emotional substitute for a far greater suffering, and even much more difficult to overcome. Greater suffering that is fear-fear to live the rest of my life is not worth it anymore without the presence of my son, and fate and God that seemed to hinder my middle.
The more I forgive, I am increasingly able to understand and realize that even though Ryan was gone, both God and other people do not ever stop me, and my fate could still change.
Forgiveness is bless me with a sense of security within themselves and gave me a sense of personal power that is not unexpected. I no longer feel as if my emotions are very dependent on the actions of others and of fate itself. Grief can just hit me again and again, but life can not make me hate anyone not even myself.
I am slowly regaining its strength, like someone who has fought against severe disease, and I became better able to reach out and help other people-my family who were grieving, clients, and my friends-and I get a surprise other. Although I still need to gather strength, just by helping others, I can get dayahidup bigger than I gave. More and more the spirit and the love I devote to others, the more I feel myself again filled with life and hope.
I find that life in the world today is more valuable than the turmoil within me.
And on an ordinary morning without fanfare, as is appropriate when the real change took place, I realized that new knowledge has grown in me. This type of knowledge that frees and not just an illusion that is usually only acquired through suffering. I know that my love for Ryan is mine forever, stored in the liver, and eternal. I know that there is no other event that can make me completely destroyed. I know that life is very precious and short, and that since then, I will pay attention to my first child, Brett, much better than before. And I learned that if I devote my love to Ryan, family, friends, and clients, my soul will return intact.
All of these tremendous valuable lesson for me. However, I know, ever since that morning, that I would never have learned without suffering first.
So, on the actual day, I reincarnate as a highly optimistic. I learned that optimism is: know the more painful events experienced, the greater the wisdom that would be obtained.
No comments:
Post a Comment