The flip-side of counting your blessings

Yesterday's post prompted a great discussion with some friends. Before I continue, I would like to note that I believe that finding happiness is a lifelong pursuit, and an on-going battle for a lot of people. I commend the efforts of those who keep fighting and moving forward, in spite of the obstacles they stumble upon along the way. 

I am amazed by the courage and tenacity of loved ones afflicted by heartache, illness, and other tragedies and setbacks. I'm humbled by the efforts of those braving through emotional, physical and spiritual turmoil - and I am honored and inspired by those who have felt comfortable enough to share their stories with me. Thank you so much. 

On that note, today I'd like to critique another conventional (and mildly inappropriate) piece of advice that has been given me when I have been down: "count your blessings." 

DISCLAIMER: I am a firm believer in the power of optimism AND of gratitude. I know that both are wonderfully effective tools that can and will enhance the lives of those who apply it to their daily lives. Having said that, today, I wish to focus on the flip-side of the optimism coin - the one where we condescendingly minimize the real disappointments of real people with real emotions.

Dinner at Red Bones with Bex - one of the bravest women I know.

Scenario:

Someone you know is feeling down, and they've mustered up the courage to admit that they are struggling. Maybe they're feeling depressed about something going on at work or at home. It's possible that they're struggling with something that is either within or outside or their control. In any case, they decided to approach you.

I really can't number how many times the following has happened to me, especially within the last few months. I also can't emphasize enough that while I understand that the council given me came from a good place, it had the opposite of the intended effect. My objective this evening is to raise awareness, and hopefully prevent well-intentioned people from inflicting emotional self-multilation on already vulnerable people.

When confiding in some, I have been met with a dangerous catch phrase: "count your blessings." 

It is actually sound advice...after all, I really believe that that life is usually good. 

So, what's the problem here?

Great question.

Ruby, you taught me one of the greatest lesson I have ever learned about strength and forgiveness. Thank you for giving me numerous second-chances. 

I'm generally a happy person. I'm healthy. I enjoy a level of comfort that suits me. I have a reassuring belief in a God that loves and cares for my personal growth and happiness. I'm well traveled. I'm also fairly accomplished for someone my age. I love my Brazilian culture, and I live in one of my favorite cities in the world. 

In other words, yeah, I'm someone who ought to be sufficiently grateful - plenty of blessings to count. 

Here's the kicker...it is that EXACT knowledge that tears me apart sometimes. I know I ought to be happy. I recognize that I have accomplished more than many dream to reach in a lifetime, and I'm only 22 years old. I know how lucky/blessed I am.

I know.

And that knowledge actually works to make me feel more hopeless when I'm feeling down. Pointing out that I have a lot to be grateful for rips from me the right to feel sad, or dissatisfied with my life. I then desperately seek to push those thoughts away...to bury the hurt, the sadness, the heartbreak. I seek to push it out of my being because it shouldn't belong there.

And the more I try, the easier it is for panic to creep in, and the harder it seems to tighten its grip around me - threatening to choke the life out of my hope.

So please consider my thoughts below.

FIRST: Please acknowledge how difficult it might be for someone to come out and admit that there's something wrong, especially within the Mormon community. Most of us feel pressured to live the illusion that we must lead perfect, holy lives, or else be publicly shamed and condemned (myself included). Many go through great lengths to hide the icky, messy details of their suffering. 

So, if someone admits to having a weakness (this is by no means unique to those who are religious), recognize that they have shown a great deal of courage…and above all else, they trusted you to not be a total d-bag. 

SECOND: Help them alleviate the stress and pressure imposed on them by their own overworked consciences by validating their feelings. It never helps to belittle someone's pain by suggesting that their problems would all go away if they were grateful enough. 

THIRD: This is a hard one for people wired like me...people taught to see the world in terms of black and white - right and wrong. Try to TRUST that your loved ones are trying their best - even if you don't get it. Nobody likes to be babied. Nobody feels empowered when their moral sense and ability to reason are being called into question.

So trust, and have faith and hope that they are trying their best to be happy, whether or not they are doing it your way. This has been the hardest lesson for me to learn in my personal life, but it have helped me so much to stop judging people, and start loving them. 

Which brings me to...

FOURTH: Love them. Love is tricky. It means different things to different people. It comes in many shapes and sizes. Decide what it means for you, and then love the person who is struggling. Love them where they're at. Love them whether or not you understand their pain. Love them whether or not you agree with their actions. Love them even if you have no control over the outcome. Love them whether you feel they deserve it or not.

Just love them.

High school graduation with Clover and Neha - for me, these girls represent compassion personified.

I wish I had recognized these four principles when loved ones have looked to me for compassion and empathy in the past. I confess that I have not historically been the most understanding person. In fact, I have a pretty nasty track-record.

A few years ago, a good friend came to me with similar pains as the ones I'm experiencing today - with similar complaints and anguish of soul. I was unyielding and unkind at the time. I believed that "making the right decision" ought to be easy...because it was right, after all. I did not show my friend respect, trust or love, and I lost my best friend because of it. 

And the greatest tragedy is that I was convinced that encouraging my friend to "count blessings" and be push through the pain was the BEST POSSIBLE THING to do. I was blinded to the reality of the struggles that lay ahead. 

I beg you. Please. Don't make my same mistake. I've learned my lesson, but it's been at a great cost. 

***

I hope you'll add your thoughts to mine in the comments section below. 

I read every single comment and I appreciate you taking the time to read my thoughts. 

Feel free to email me if you'd like to share your story, or ask a question about something I wrote.

The multifaceted nature of courage

Yesterday, I had a rare and unique opportunity to spend the afternoon with a great friend - someone I greatly admire. While I expected to meet with this friend for lunch, catch up, and then go about our days, I was astonished and flattered that my friend chose to take the rest of the work day off in order to spend time together.

For the better half of our afternoon, we discussed the meaning of courage.

In our conversation, we realized that courage has a duplicitous nature. We could both think of people in our lives who have shown indisputable courage, and yet, we found, over and over again, that courage can mean a variety of things to different people, and under different circumstances -- and as often is the case, all seem accurate.

For instance, in both of our families, our parents showed the courage to let go and have faith in the unknown when they chose to immigrate to this country years ago, leaving behind "the known" of their home countries and of their family and friends for promises of a better future.

On the other hand, my parents also showed an incredible amount of tenacious courage when they were very young and they decided to get married and convert to a new religion against the approval of their families and friends. We thought of several situations that fit the latter example as well.

So what does it mean to have courage, exactly?

My experience has taught me that the most powerful and desirable form of courage is the courage to choose. Choosing to let go of what you don't need, and to hang on to what you do need most. The most courageous people in my life weren't necessarily the most adventurous or fearless, they were the people who chose what they would and would not stand for.

It takes courage to endure through challenging times. When facing a crossroads, we show bravery and grit in order to take a stand for the things that really matter to us.

I often forget that it also takes equal determination to let go, or to turn back when we have been wrong. Letting go and stepping out of a situation that would otherwise create more harm than good in the long run takes courage and a great amount of faith.

I have made the sad mistake of assuming that letting go is synonymous with giving up. I'm ashamed to admit that for too long, I believed that only those who are afraid and weak let go or change the path of their journey. I have needed to amend my paradigm.

I strongly believe that it takes a special courage to have the audacity to fight for your happiness, which could mean letting go of something that's wrong for you. This especially takes courage when it pins us against social mores, like our parents who decided to leave behind the known of their homeland, for the unknown of immigrating to the United States.

When facing a crossroads, it takes courage to walk down either path - to continue forward with faith in the unknown or to change and show faith by turning back when you've been wrong.

In a recent Mormon Message video, I was reminded that when making decisions, God expects us to pray, trust, and be believing and then not give up, panic, or "jump ship" when something doesn't seem to be going right. This is the message I was accustomed to hearing. HOWEVER, it taught me something new as well. It taught me that sometimes, when faced with a fork in the road, the way to the "right road" requires that we go down a wrong path for a brief time in order to recognize, when we turn back, that the path we are going on is ABSOLUTELY the right one (Wrong Roads).

For everything we hang on to, we are must let go of something else. I used to believe that human being ought to strive for perfection in all things, and that life was one huge balancing act in which I was supposed to become great in all things: all relationships ought to be forever, and we should always endure to the end.

While that's certainly an ideal I catch myself stubbornly seeking to adhere to over and over again, I have found that it is unrealistic and self-destructive. Human beings can only choose what they will stand for; what they will choose to perfect; what mountains are worth climbing, or what battles are worth fighting.

We cannot be everything, succeed at everything -- and the journey to becoming someone, believing in something, and having courage, requires us to let go of many things that are good for the things that are great, and not worth living without.

We must fight for these things. We must show the courage to endure here.

And with wisdom and faith, we must search our souls to uncover what this means for each of us.


Comment below if you have anything to add.

Our greatest asset

“Our needs are our greatest assets. It turns out I’ve learned to give all the things I need.” 

- Andrew Solomon

The above quote blew me away when I heard it earlier during Solomon's TEDTalk. It inspired me to evaluate the things I most desperately yearn for in my life, and made me wonder how I should go about turning these needs, or weaknesses, into strengths (Ether 12:27) in the way that Solomon was able to do.

Most importantly, Solomon reminded me of a lesson I learned long ago about the good that can come from tribulation (D&C 122:6-7). It reminded me that the things we lack often hold the potential to become great blessings in our lives. After all, if I have suffered some unfortunate event, this pain grants me exclusive insight.

I take comfort in the knowledge that my painful experiences allow me to empathize with those who have suffered similar pain. In experiencing the need for something - whether it be physical, emotional, or spiritual - we can develop a greater ability to show compassion. No one needs to feel like they are fighting a battle on their own.

Please be mindful that I am NOT perfect at living his principle yet. I still find myself wallowing in self pity from time to time on a daily basis. I resist the wisdom of seeing the greater picture, and I narrow my focus to only my life, and my suffering. When I do this, I feel almost completely engulfed by my weaknesses.

So I'm glad Solomon, and those more diligent in following this ideal, continue to remind me that the way out of our metaphorical abyss is to use the things we KNOW (even when all we seem to know is pain or struggle). We can become experts in our struggle, and find passion in overcoming those challenges so that we can then lend a hand to those in need.

Indeed, this ability can become our greatest asset if we choose it.

Comment below if you have anything to add.