“You Will Fail”–Love, The Universe

My husband and I were having dinner with good friends the other night.  There was lots of laughter and chatter, until one of the couples received a text from their daughter who is away at college.  She had shared some bad news. 

She did not get into an academic program that she’d been working toward for the past two years.  It was devastating for her and by extension, her parents.

We all expressed our sympathies and reviewed everything she had done to ensure her success and acceptance into this program.  Her mom told us that getting into this program was all she had planned for.  She had no idea how she would move forward.

After the initial shock wore off, we started talking about what we’ve learned from our collective disappointments.  Since all of us were over 50, we had quite a stockpile to sift through.

The bottom line:  life is a series of disappointments and successes.  That’s really what it all comes down to and when you have the luxury of looking back, you can see how many of your most devastating failures or setbacks, were actually pivotal turning points.

We all rebound from losses.  ALL of us.  Loss may ding us or make us more wary, but eventually we find a way out.  That’s how life is set up.  Time keeps flowing like a wave to carry us to the beach; sometimes gently, sometimes in a violent crash.  But, it happens.

Look back on your most painful losses or failures. Think about a time when you didn’t get something that you wanted so badly.  You asked why, felt cheated, repeated to yourself and anyone who would listen that you had done all the right things to make this happen for you.  And yet, it didn’t.  You cried out that life is unfair.

Yup.  It is.  And it’s not.  Life just is.  Life is a series of ups, downs, joy, triumph, pain, suffering, loss, victories, good meals, bad meals, cuts, scrapes, financial losses, financial gains, speeding tickets, death, destruction, natural disasters, treachery, lessons and second chances.  That’s what we get when we pop our head (or our ass, which isn’t optimal) out of the womb.

Take a moment to think back, as we did sitting around the table, to those personal moments of loss and failure.  What came into your life as a result?  The vast majority of these challenges were overcome.  So many times when we’re forced to take the fork in the road, it was a great fork.  We grew, we learned, we adapted and sometimes, we even bloomed.

Maturity, time and age really help to dull the effects of the inevitable disappointments we face.   Events that used to send me into a tailspin barely register anymore.  I know that it will work out, that l will adapt and evolve. Yes, there are still things that knock me flat on my ass like the death of my dog, Chili last fall (more on that here).  I’m still brushing myself off from that and have not quite processed the take-away.  But, I will.   With enough time.

Still learning…

I’m an over-thinker, but I try and learn something from each painful experience in my life.  The discomfort that I’ve felt over losing our dog, Chili has got to mean something to me.  What have I learned from the past few weeks?

First lesson:  trust my intuition.  I’ve always been in tune with what I can feel or ‘know’.  Unfortunately, I’m also a very analytical and logical person, so I tend to override my gut instincts.  I knew that there was something a little ‘off’ about the dog all summer.  Even before the summer.  I kept telling my husband that something wasn’t right.

There were no overt signs.  She seemed healthy; her blood work didn’t show anything out of the ordinary.  But, there was something in her behavior that I found unsettling.  She wasn’t enthusiastic about her food, she seemed a bit depressed and sluggish at times.  I attributed it to our move, the new surroundings, the heat.  I had even written a couple of emails to a local holistic vet, saying that I felt like something was going on with her and I even felt like it was involving her liver or kidneys.  But, I didn’t act.  I suppressed it because I didn’t have any firm evidence.  Until of course, she got sick and died.  My gut spoke; my brain ignored.

The next thing that I learned:  reach out to folks who are going through a bad time.  We often don’t know what to say or how to react to people who are grieving or struggling or in pain.  It doesn’t matter what you say.  Say SOMETHING.  Let them know that you’re thinking about them.  Express your condolences.  Either by a note or a text or an email or a phone call.  Just do it.  More than once, if need be.

The comfort that comes from hearing from other humans is immeasurable.  Even from strangers, who only know me via my blog, my Facebook or my radio show.  The notes and comments that I received were of great comfort.  We are all humans, bound together by our common experiences of sadness, happiness, joy, sorrow, triumph.  Let’s suffer and celebrate together.

Lastly:  time really does begin to erode the pain.  It’s been less than a week, but I’m already beginning to soften.  I can finally talk about my sweet, departed pooch and feel warmth.  The pain I felt is morphing into gratitude for the memories and the time that we had her.  Everyone said this would come if I made a little space.  Everyone was right.  The collective psyche knows what it’s talking about.

Seems like we’d all have learned our life lessons by the time we reach the age of 50.  Not true. Gotta remain open to the wisdom that so constantly is knocking to get in.  Open the mind, open the door, open the heart.