Tag: adversity

The Half Glass of Adversity

I couldn’t sleep.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Excitement wasn’t blocking The Sandman’s advance. Neither was anxiety.

No, what was keeping me awake was a buildup of acid on my throat. It surged up my esophagus into the back of my mouth, leaving a burning sensation in its path. Every time I tried to doze off, nausea would jolt me awake.

Antacids didn’t help. Neither did raising my pillow. There was no relief to be found.

So, after a sleepless night, I threw in the towel.

I booked a doctor’s appointment, walking out of the office with a prescription that would help keep the acid at bay. But even with relief in my clutches, the adventure was far from over.

Over the next two months, I’d undergo a litany of tests — an ultrasound, an MRI, two endoscopies. I’d spend hours away from my job and incur tens of thousands of dollars in insurance claims. And at the end of this gauntlet, I’d find myself frustratingly devoid of answers.

There was no silver bullet for what ailed me. The risk of another flare-up would always be around the corner.

I had to get used to that.

I know, dear reader, that tales of runaway stomach acid are not the most pleasant. They might even seem taboo to share in a forum like this one.

But these ordeals are my reality. And the tactics I use to avert them are my reality too. 

Living with digestive issues saddles me with rules. Rules about when to eat. Rules about what to eat. And rules about how to react if I break protocol.

It all can be overwhelming at times. And it all can be socially isolating at others.

Insisting that companions commit to an earlier dinnertime is never pleasant. Triple-checking with restaurant staff about the ingredients in a dish makes me feel like a pariah.

I wish I didn’t have to go through this dance. I wish that I could live unencumbered and carefree.

But I don’t have that option. So, I do what I need to get by.

And yet, merely calling all this survival is missing the point.

Nearly two decades ago, my life was inexorably changed.

Terrorists toppled skyscrapers mere miles from my middle school classroom. A crystal-clear September morning devolved into a day I wasn’t sure I’d survive.

For years, I was filled with anger, grief, and confusion on account of this atrocity. To a large degree, I still feel this way today.

And yet, I made it past the 9/11 attacks. I didn’t let them break me.

Many years later, I moved across Texas without a job lined up. Over the course of three months, I burned through my savings as I sought steady employment.

All of this was also traumatic. I was filled with shame and doubt for not landing on my feet quickly.

And yet, I made it past that experience as well. In the subsequent years, I’ve built a career and generally thrived.

This resurgence took a hit when a global pandemic brought the world to a halt. So much of the life I’d built succumbed to the virus’ long shadow. So many initiatives that I’d set suddenly had to be scrapped.

The darkest months of the pandemic — filled with social isolation and the tension of uncertainty — felt like misery in slow-motion. They were nothing short of excruciating.

And yet, I’ve made it past those difficult days. In a relatively short timeframe, I’ve gotten myself back on track.

Yes, resilience has been a hallmark of my life. Time after time, I’ve faced significant roadblocks. And in each instance, I’ve risen to the challenge.

I’ve chronicled many of these crises here on Words of the West. But in general, I’m loath to dwell on them.

For the memories remain bitter. The scars persist.

I don’t want adversity to define me. And yet, its imprint is unmistakable.

The trouble started with a milkshake.

I drank the beverage at a diner back when I was a teenager. I immediately regretted it.

It turned out I was lactose intolerant. Many of the dishes I’d enjoyed to that point did not appreciate me in kind.

This revelation changed things.

Eating would no longer be a thoughtless activity. It would now be a minefield to traverse.

So, I did what had to be done. I established a diet. I cooked at home more often. And I stocked my medicine cabinet with digestive aids.

Such measures were largely successful. But not universally so.

Indeed, the night I lay awake with acid churning in my throat came years after that fateful milkshake. I had done so much right, and yet it had all turned out so wrong.

In the wake of such an ordeal, it would be so easy to fall back on old habits. It would be all too tempting to call that experience — and the litany of medical tests that followed — something to survive. It would be all too natural to bury the painful memories and move on.

But I refused to do any of that.

This time, I thought of all the changes I’d made to meet my digestive challenges. And I considered the benefits those adaptations brought.

Continual meal planning, for instance, honed my anticipation skills. Instead of just penciling in the next meal on the docket, I started thinking of what plans and obligations lay ahead in my day. I started considering how I could prepare for them.

Similarly, a necessary aversion to late-night snacking made me consider my sleep patterns. If digesting a burger at 1 AM was a bad idea, then maybe staying up until 1 AM was also a poor decision.

Considerations like these might seem trivial. But they provide a significant silver lining.

These details help us see adversity as a glass half-full. They give us something to build off.

These silver linings don’t validate the strife we went through. But they show how the byproduct of that struggle can be a lasting force for good.

That’s how it’s worked out in my life, at least. But I have a feeling I’m not alone when it comes to this sentiment.

So, let’s take a fresh look at adversity. Let’s reconsider how we define it and how we quantify it.

Something vibrant can emerge from our most challenging moments. We just need to know where to look.

Gratitude Through Adversity

Counting our blessings.

It’s something we’re quite good at.

Perhaps it’s because we’re naturally introspective. Or perhaps it’s because we’re obsessed with keeping score.

Either way, we don’t pass up an opportunity to enumerate all that we’ve been given. Instead, we stockpile our gratitude, as if it’s a pile of gold coins in our dragon lair.

This pattern gains gravitas as the leaves fall from the trees and the winter chill sets in. It becomes unavoidable as a holiday designated for this purpose beckons.

So, we dive deep into gratefulness. We obsess over what we’ve been blessed with over the past year. And we go into overdrive to show our appreciation.

In most times, this is a harmless exercise. A healthy one, even.

But in extraordinary times, that foundation can shift.

It’s OK to not be OK.

This refrain has gained popularity in recent years, as our society has taken a fresh look at mental health.

Generally, this message is intended for those who’ve suffered psychological trauma. It’s for anyone who might be reckoning with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder — or PTSD.

Perhaps these PTSD victims witnessed a horrifying event, such as a car crash or the 9/11 attacks. Or perhaps they had been deployed to a combat zone and ended up bringing those horrors home. Either way, their realities were likely filled with dark thoughts.

The idea behind It’s OK to not be OK is that fitting in needn’t be a primary objective. Mainstream society might have its norms and expectations. But most people who make up that society don’t have the harrowing perspective that PTSD victims do. By forcing those victims to bury their emotions and conform with society, we are placing an undue burden upon them.

I’ve long recognized the importance of this idea. And yet, I can’t fully square with it.

For I haven’t experienced enough trauma firsthand for it to apply to me. And while I’ve faced many challenges throughout my life, I’ve been reluctant to apply such a mantra to them.

These bumps in the road have been setbacks, not traumas. And I’ve long maintained that the best way to respond to a setback is to plow ahead with conviction.

So, I’ve buried my discontent at the challenges I’ve faced. I’ve shaken off my disappointments. I’ve moved on.

Many others in this position have done the same. After all, America is the land of hard knocks. It is the heartland of perseverance through challenges.

This spirit goes back to the nation’s earliest years — when settlers faced lethal dangers on their journey west. It gained steam as immigrants flowed into Ellis Island, arriving destitute and devoid of protection. And it continues today, as the entrepreneurial movement reaches a fever pitch.

Picking ourselves up and dusting ourselves off has been the American way for eons.

And yet, it might be time to rethink all of that.

As I write these words, America is enduring a moment without comparison.

In less than 10 months, the nation has confronted a pandemic, a recession, a racial justice reckoning, a contentious Presidential election, and a swath of natural disasters. All of these events have hit this nation in years past. But they’ve never struck simultaneously.

In the wake of all this turmoil, a new narrative has taken hold. One that splits our society between the fortunate and the snakebit.

The idea comes from the fact that many have lost something in all of this. Loved ones, jobs, homes, dignity, sense of identity — all of these have been ripped away in an instant.

And yet, these horrors haven’t been evenly distributed. For some, the biggest departure from “normal life” has been the requirement that they wear face masks when outside their homes.

This group has kept their incomes, their health, and their joie de vivre. If not for a few visuals — such as those masks — it might seem as if nothing had changed from the days before the virus reached our shores.

Under normal Rules of Engagement for Americana, the next steps should be clear. Those ravaged by the moment should dust themselves off and get back on the horse. Those unaffected by it should proceed with business as usual.

But these are not normal times. The prospect of a socially distanced holiday season should make that painfully clear.

It’s time we recognize the cloud hanging over us all. And it’s time we throw out the old playbook.

In the eye of the storm, gratitude can seem irrelevant.

As we batten down the hatches, we’ve got little time to savor the ride. Survival is paramount.

But we’ve been riding the storm for months now. And as the season of reflection and renewal fast approaches, it’s time to face the truths we’ve long been avoiding.

First, this ordeal is affecting all of us, whether we want to admit it or not. Yes, the harm is not evenly distributed — and for some, the shadow of this moment will linger eternally. But no one is free and clear from the blast. We all have the right to remove the cloak of invincibility and be human.

Second, we have much to appreciate. The world might look drastically different, but the hallmarks of community and grace remain. Even in the darkest and most uncertain of times, we find the strength and ingenuity to pull each other through. That should not be taken for granted.

And third, gratefulness is not a competitive sport. We shouldn’t feel pressure to wear on our sleeves the blessings we feel in our hearts. Life is messy and emotions are complicated. It’s best if we leave some runway for each of us to deal with such complexity in the manner that best suits us. Judgment gets us nowhere.

If we can come to terms with these truths, we might encounter some levity. We might rekindle the spirit that generally dominates the tail-end of the calendar. We just might find ourselves again.

Times may be tough, and joy might be in short supply. But all is not lost.

Let us never forget that.

Dig Deeper

Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.

The late Jim Valvano uttered those words when I was I was far too young to understand their significance. But I’ve seen the highlights of his 1993 ESPY speech several times. And each time, they’ve moved me to tears.

Here was an accomplished basketball coach dealt a cruel blow — a cancer diagnosis in an era where treatment was far less effective than it is today. He had every excuse to shut it down, to prepare for the seemingly inevitable, to quit.

But he didn’t.

Jimmy V decided to devote his life to raising money for cancer research, in hopes of saving millions of people in a future he knew he wouldn’t be around for. He refused to let his wit, his humor and his exuberance for life fade away, even as he fought a battle more grueling than most of us could ever imagine. And he combined his mission and his virtues into one of the most important and inspirational speeches I’ve ever come across — a speech he delivered energetically at a time when he barely had the physical strength to stand.

It was inspirational, emotional and powerful. And it continues to remind us that quitting should not be an option.

***

Things ain’t always rosy. That’s a fact. Over the course of our lives, we all have times of struggle — times where it feels like everything’s spiraling out of control and we just want to throw our hands in the air and say “Screw it all.” I know I have.

Now, the cause of this outburst might very well be mundane in the long run, but that won’t stop our blood from boiling due to the frustration. It won’t stop us from thinking that throwing in the towel is the most feasible option. After all, self-preservation is an instinct we all share.

In moments like these, we must heed the words of Jimmy V.

Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.

There is always more we can give, more we can do, more we can try. A no can lead to a yes, an untenable situation can yield a more suitable one — and yes, a rainbow might be hiding behind that storm cloud.

We can — and should — iterate. We can learn from our current stress-inducing predicaments to build a more efficient and smooth future for ourselves.

But what we can’t do is give up.

***

Now, this is not to say that we should keep smoking, just because kicking the habit involves the word “quit.” And if our job is leading to nothing but misery, moving on might be prudent. I once left a job and moved 300 miles without having a new employer lined up; while the struggle was quite real at first, it ultimately paid major dividends.

But does axing a nicotine fix or saying sayonara to an untenable position really count as giving up? I’d say no, as each is but a small step in concrete plan to improve our well-being.

On the other hand, when a project we undertake turns out to be more difficult or exhausting than we’ve anticipated, we must not entertain the notion of quitting. We must fulfill our obligations, even if the end result is not quite to our expectations. For completing what we undertake gives us the satisfaction of closure, as well as the strength to rise to the next challenge.

***

Life is linear — and our path through it will be littered with challenges, frustrations and self-doubts. These are opportunities. Opportunities to see what we’re made of. Opportunities to grow. Opportunities to dig deeper than we knew we could.

A generation ago, a man with seemingly nothing left to give devoted everything he had to saving and inspiring future generations. What’s your excuse?

Strength in Adversity

There are many qualities we look at when classifying others. Social skills, personality, smarts, looks — these come to mind instantly. A far more uncommon consideration — at least outside the niche of job interviews — is resilience.

Yet, it just might be our ultimate defining quality.

Think about it.

When things are going well, we’re in control of our lifestyle. We get into our comfort zone, things work out for us, and we have the ability to project those good vibes towards others. This is the warm, fuzzy zone where the theory of Being Our Best Self comes from.

But life is more than just sunshine and rainbows. It’s storm clouds too.

There are times in all of our lives when we find ourselves in adverse situations, when things don’t go our way. And it brings up questions.

How do we respond? Which vibes do we project in these moments? What do we take from the experience?

The answers can be telling.

This is why I pay close attention to how the people I’m acquainted with handle adversity — and why I’m sure others pay close attention to how I handle tough times.

***

It takes internal fortitude to get through adversity. I recognize this much better now than I did earlier in life.

Growing up, I was resistant to change, and I didn’t respond well when things didn’t go my way. I wasn’t much of a risk-taker, and I planned things out in my mind well ahead of time; that way, life could be predictable and within my comfort zone as much as possible.

But then, things changed.

In the past decade, I’ve moved to a new city three times — each time, hardly knowing a soul in the place God had led me to. The first move was a comfortable one — I was on a college campus with a bunch of other freshmen, and I made friends quickly.

The second move was far different — out to the West Texas desert, and the real world. A world where being simply being new in the neighborhood built no bridges to the surrounding community.

I remember the afternoon my dad left town after getting me settled. I went back to my new apartment, lay down on my new futon in the living room — and slept for 10 hours. Then, I went to my bedroom and slept for 8 more.

I was so lonely and scared, I didn’t want to wake up.

In that moment of extreme adversity, I gave myself a mental pep talk.

This is not who you are. Go out and be yourself.

Those words got me out of my apartment that day. No matter how apprehensive I felt inside, I was going to prove to the world — and myself —that I was exactly the same person I always had been.

I learned a lot from that experience, which is why I keep it in the back of my mind. Those lessons have come in handy many times, including during my move to the Dallas area and subsequent career change.

***

While I don’t expect others to face so many adverse situations in their lives — or to willingly put themselves in those situations, as I did — I would advise those who come across adversity to stay consistent and true to themselves. It’s also important to use the lessons from that experience productively moving forward.

For there will always be more moments of adversity down the road. Moments when it pays to heed the following words.

Show me adversity. I’ll show you strength.

Owning Our Mistakes

It was an unusually wonderful Thursday evening. Instead of staying home and watching Shades of Blue, I was at a bar in Dallas connecting with fellow University of Miami alumni. A couple drinks were had, many stories were shared, and the hours flew by.

Friday morning hit me like a ton of bricks. As I went through my 6 AM zombie-like wakeup routine for one final time that workweek, it dawned on me:

Did I ever pay for my drinks?

The answer was no.

My heart started racing. I’d made many mistakes before, but this was a particularly big one. And the fact that I didn’t even notice the mistake until 12 hours later compounded the issue. In this case, ignorance most certainly was not bliss.

My pride, integrity and morality were on the line. I’d screwed up — and screwed over a waitress who was relying on my gratuity. Immediately, my mind fixated on one question:

How will you respond?

There were really two options: I could have just moved on as if it never happened, or I could have tried to make it right.

I chose the second option.

I called the bar when they opened Friday evening, apologized and tried to settle my tab. It turned out an official from the Alumni office who was at the event had picked up my tab, and I later learned the University had reimbursed him for the expense.

Why am I bringing all this up, aside from sharing how I accidentally got the University of Miami to cover some adult beverages?

Well, in the course of our lives, we will make mistakes. Some of these will be small errors, like accidentally cutting the line at the deli. Others might be more significant, like forgetting to pay for your drinks.

In these cases, what happened doesn’t really matter. How you respond does.

Are you the kind of person who will strive to make it right? The one who will fix what’s broken and learn from your errant ways? Or will you move on down the line as if nothing ever happened?

Your answer depends largely on who you are on the inside. Your moral compass, the standards you set for yourself, your drive to learn and improve — these will all define the choices you make in these moments.

It’s been said that one’s true character is illuminated by the fires of adversity. Well, mistakes are self-inflicted episodes of adversity. The aftermath of these gaffes provide the opportunity for you to show who you truly are and how you can make a difference.

So own your mistakes. Then rectify them.