Adversity at My Door

I may wish to be free from torture, but if the time comes for me to endure it, I’ll wish to bear it courageously with bravery and honor. Wouldn’t I prefer not to fall into war? But if war does befall me, I’ll wish to carry nobly the wounds, starvation, and other necessities of war. Neither am I so crazy as to desire illness, but if I must suffer illness, I’ll wish to do nothing rash or dishonorable. The point is not to wish for these adversities, but for the virtues that makes adversities bearable.”

Seneca, Moral Letters, 67.4

There is a wide gulf between theory and practice when discussing how one responds to difficulty. Certainly I would love to be the stalwart hero in my own life. Patiently enduring the hard times with grace and dignity. Always putting on a stiff upper lip when adversity comes knocking. Trouble is, that is exhausting and unsustainable.

Looking back on my video game history, I was exposed to incorrect lessons. An odd quirk of games is that the hero never needs to take a break as part of the gameplay. One’s character is forever prodded forward until death, or until the gamer decides to press pause and freeze that character in place for an indeterminate amount of time.

Forward progress, death, or the suspension of time.

Those are some of the limiting beliefs that I hold, and that I work on challenging. All this week I’ve wished for the ability to freeze time until I felt better. To pause life like I pause a video game, and give me an opportunity to ready myself for the next fight. Sadly, the second hand continued to tick despite my protestations.

Is it death then? No, no. I’ve traveled down that path and it creates far more problems than solutions. I did need to protect myself from myself, which is why I left my bottles of Trazodone and Klonopin at my parents’ house yesterday. Could I end my life with them? Possibly. I did not intend to, but the human mind always goes to to the easiest option because we are a herd species. What do I mean by that? Consider — when was the last time you walked a route that was not already there? When was the last time you took a different route to work? Why do you sleep on the same side of the bed each night?

We humans prefer the expected. When venturing into personally uncharted territory, we much prefer to follow the route of someone who has navigated the path previously. Cows, gorillas, any grazing species, tend to stick to well-established paths because it takes less cognitive effort and because those paths are predictable.

This past week has been unpredictable not only for me, but for people all across the planet. Those of us fortunate enough to be able to work from home no longer have our morning and evening commutes. Those with small children are navigating the untrodden path of trying to work, educate, and entertain their kids for the entire day. Everyone is wondering if they have enough supplies to handle a long quarantine. How will we react?

You could try to press pause and stay in bed like I did for the past 72 hours. Filled with existential dread at what the next hour might hold for you.

Or you could make some amount of forward progress. Here is where I find the most difficulty. I don’t want to make a little progress, I want to make significant progress. I get dejected when I do not see myself moving forward by leaps and bounds. I was hugely encouraged with the progress that I made in treatment, only to be massively discouraged by how much difficulty I’ve encountered in trying to navigate my regular life.

Forward progress can be a centimeter. It can be an inch. On some days, it may be a mile. I find It equally important to remember often that the manner in which I move forward is just as important as the progress. If I can do one, small thing that improves my day and I do that thing with care, respect, and thoughtfulness then a centimeter of progress can feel like a mile.