Breast cancer survivor. Prostate cancer survivor. Plane crash survivor. What do you think of when you hear these terms? Relief? Gratitude? Pride? Obviously, it depends on the context.
CHARLESTON, W.Va. - Breast cancer survivor. Prostate cancer survivor. Plane crash survivor.
What do you think of when you hear these terms? Relief? Gratitude? Pride? Obviously, it depends on the context. A personal challenge - or that of a family member or close friend - will, no doubt, evoke more emotion than a description of a complete stranger's experience.
And then there are the national disasters that grab our attention and tug on our collective emotions. Ever since Baby Jessica fell down that well years ago and we all got live updates on TV, there have been nationwide sighs - or gasps - when these episodes occur.
Which brings to mind the recent averted disaster of US Airways Flight 1549 that landed in the Hudson River, along with its 155 survivors. I don't know about you, but I can't help wondering how those lives have been touched and changed by the experience. It's all so raw right now, but it will be interesting to follow the survivors' stories to see how this life-threatening experience has affected them.
Like me, you've likely followed the journeys of friends or family members who have come through major challenges. You may even be a survivor yourself. These life challenges are the very things that test our character, and I never tire of listening to the insights gained by those going through such situations.
A friend of mine who is a breast cancer survivor has told me that getting cancer was such a gift. You might wonder why someone would express things this way. Or you may have felt the same thing yourself.
My friend says she knows exactly why she got cancer. She needed a wakeup call to pay attention to things in her life. Over time, she changed careers and re-evaluated her primary relationship. Not that that's the path for everyone. Personal journeys are just that: personal.
It often seems that the best insights - and the perseverance to act on them - come from the darkest nights of the soul. It's almost as if the deepest challenges give us "permission" to stop and look at our lives, rather than to keep on going on automatic pilot.
Singer-songwriter Sheryl Crow has said, "When you get cancer, you get to do what you want to do." And documentary filmmaker Kris Carr, author of "Crazy, Sexy Cancer" says, "Cancer was a catalyst. I had permission to dump my baggage and take risks."
But why do we feel we need permission in the first place? I think it's because it's just not practical to make wholesale changes in our lives - particularly in these challenging times - even when we know certain situations are eating away at us. Maybe it's an unhealthy work situation - or a toxic relationship. As human beings it's generally our nature to want to pull away from pain rather than propel ourselves toward pleasure. And the pain has to get bad enough to cause us to take action.
CHARLESTON, W.Va. - Breast cancer survivor. Prostate cancer survivor. Plane crash survivor.
What do you think of when you hear these terms? Relief? Gratitude? Pride? Obviously, it depends on the context. A personal challenge - or that of a family member or close friend - will, no doubt, evoke more emotion than a description of a complete stranger's experience.
And then there are the national disasters that grab our attention and tug on our collective emotions. Ever since Baby Jessica fell down that well years ago and we all got live updates on TV, there have been nationwide sighs - or gasps - when these episodes occur.
Which brings to mind the recent averted disaster of US Airways Flight 1549 that landed in the Hudson River, along with its 155 survivors. I don't know about you, but I can't help wondering how those lives have been touched and changed by the experience. It's all so raw right now, but it will be interesting to follow the survivors' stories to see how this life-threatening experience has affected them.
Like me, you've likely followed the journeys of friends or family members who have come through major challenges. You may even be a survivor yourself. These life challenges are the very things that test our character, and I never tire of listening to the insights gained by those going through such situations.
A friend of mine who is a breast cancer survivor has told me that getting cancer was such a gift. You might wonder why someone would express things this way. Or you may have felt the same thing yourself.
My friend says she knows exactly why she got cancer. She needed a wakeup call to pay attention to things in her life. Over time, she changed careers and re-evaluated her primary relationship. Not that that's the path for everyone. Personal journeys are just that: personal.
It often seems that the best insights - and the perseverance to act on them - come from the darkest nights of the soul. It's almost as if the deepest challenges give us "permission" to stop and look at our lives, rather than to keep on going on automatic pilot.
Singer-songwriter Sheryl Crow has said, "When you get cancer, you get to do what you want to do." And documentary filmmaker Kris Carr, author of "Crazy, Sexy Cancer" says, "Cancer was a catalyst. I had permission to dump my baggage and take risks."
But why do we feel we need permission in the first place? I think it's because it's just not practical to make wholesale changes in our lives - particularly in these challenging times - even when we know certain situations are eating away at us. Maybe it's an unhealthy work situation - or a toxic relationship. As human beings it's generally our nature to want to pull away from pain rather than propel ourselves toward pleasure. And the pain has to get bad enough to cause us to take action.
Yet, as another cancer survivor told me, "I've got the C card. I can change anything in my life that's causing me stress." Not that any of us would wish this on ourselves, but I heard a certain amount of confidence in her statement. And wouldn't it be nice to have permission to remove all stressful situations from our lives?
The trick is to give ourselves permission as we go along - not to wait for some catastrophic wakeup call to provide the permission for us.
"Survivor. It isn't just a term; it's an attitude," says Carr. "I was learning who I was, finding my inner voice. It felt good to release the heavy emotional weight I'd been carrying. And I didn't want to lose my sense of humor - just because there was something really serious in my life."
Carr's rare form of cancer is in remission now. She tells of a class she took called "Being with Dying" - a name she says gave her the creeps. The class started out with a writing exercise: "What's your best-case scenario? And your worst-case scenario? What do you have to let go of so that the best case can happen?"
At that point Carr realized the class wasn't about dying; it was about living. "Cancer gave me the freedom to really live. For the first time I don't want to play a role or pretend to be someone else. I'm thrilled to be me. A free-spirited, take-charge person full of sass and fireworks. A survivor."
I wonder how those 155 passengers on Flight 1549 view themselves. To be sure, they're survivors. Maybe they've thrown themselves back into their work and their everyday lives in an effort to get back to some sort of normalcy. Or maybe they've given themselves permission to stop and examine their lives.
Maybe they're even pondering how a regularly scheduled flight from New York to Charlotte could have gone so bad. They could be angry and asking, "Why me?" Or they could be overcome with gratitude that they were spared. And be wondering what to do to make the most of their lives.
Whatever the case may be with each individual passenger, their collective experience paints a rich tapestry for the rest of us. Maybe we can take away a bit of that awe and wonder.
Linda Arnold, MBA, is a certified wellness instructor and chairwoman and CEO of The Arnold Agency, an integrated marketing communications firm. Reader comments or questions may be directed to Linda Arnold, The Arnold Agency, 117 Summers St., Charleston, WV 25301, or e-mailed to livinglifefu...@arnoldagency.com.
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