Sometimes the most beautiful things emerge from dark waters.
Helen (pseudonym) and I were talking about how wonderful her recovery had been when she admitted sadly, "I feel like I've wasted so many years of my life being sick."
It was the second time that week someone expressed regret for being incapacitated by mental illness, chalking them up as lost years of productivity. Over the course of my career, countless patients have said the same thing to me.
"They're not wasted," I said. "Think of it this way . . . It's like you've been pushing against a thousand-pound boulder that doesn't budge. Healing is like having the boulder shrink away to nothing. What do you think a person gets from pushing against a huge boulder for years?"
Helen looked puzzled and shrugged. "I don't know," she said. She was probably thinking "very sore arms."
"When you push against a boulder like that for years, you end up with a lot of strong muscles. Muscles that others don't have because they haven't had to work so hard. For example, "muscles" like patience, humility, or perseverance. Over time, you'll discover the gifts that come from your struggles."
I shared a story of someone who discovered his innate ability to sense the vibration of crystals after he healed from depression and anxiety. He eventually went on to graduate from Bastyr University and complete a fellowship in acupuncture.
Helen looked thoughtful. She then began to share how, ever since she was a child, she was able to see movement within objects - the vibrations of molecules. When she concentrated, she thought she could move objects (just slightly) through intention.
I had never met someone who could move things through intention, though I had read that it was possible. My advice to Helen was to explore her gifts and to let me know what she learns about them the next time we meet.
More than a decade ago, like Helen, I was in a session with an energy medicine mentor, and she told me that all the challenges I had faced in my life will yield gifts for me to carry through life. Later, I would be able to use them when needed like tools from a backpack.
At the time, I highly doubted it. What gifts could possibly come from suffering? I wanted her to affirm my right to my regrets, anger, and blame.
But not anymore. Looking back on my life, my trials and difficulties did teach valuable lessons or added something to my life. They became gifts. Profound, miraculous gifts.
Trials do transform us--one way or another. We can choose to turn them into gifts or burdens, depending on our willingness to learn from them.
Before I end, I want to share a part of my journal entry from July 3, 2011, when vacationing with my son:
"After Yosemite, we went to see the amazing Sequoias in Sequoia National park. The trees were so great in size that we can only see the whole tree if we bend our necks backward and let our eyes travel from its base to the top. Most of the time, we can’t even see the top. We loved those trees. They are full of quiet wisdom. At times, I tried to meditate in the forest with Jordan, and we tried to see if we can sense their wisdom through our minds.
"Jordan (my son who was 14 y.o. at the time) said that he asked the trees, 'What is the purpose of life?' and the thought that came to him from the trees was, 'To exist without regret.'"
May you look on the other side of regret and discover your gifts.
Here is Helen's testimonial: Healing from Panic Attacks, Depression, and Marijuana Use at Age 18