I borrowed the title of this post from the book of the same name by Dr Paul Brand and Phillip Yancey.
As the Zondervan synopsis puts it
Pain is not something that most of us would count as a blessing; however, what it is and why we need it if we're to live life fully is brought to light in this book.
I was caused to think about this because I have recently had the experience of being unwell.
Normally, I would think of this as being an unfortunate experience. I don’t like being unwell. I’m not a good patient.
However, this time, even though the experience was very unpleasant, I felt, even when I was still unwell that something significant (perhaps even profound) was happening for me.
My illness was depression expressing itself mainly in the form of severe anxiety. I am not particularly prone to depression although I have experienced a significant episode once in the past. It has been a long time since I have experienced anything that you could call more than mild.
Last winter, I can remember getting out of my car on a cold and gray day. I felt dull. I had mild to low anxiety about my prospects for work. I just felt unhappy. I knew if it had been a sunny day I would have felt happy. From time to time I wake up and feel that familiar feeling of the beginnings of depression. I fight it. I get up and do something and the feeling goes away.
Having once experienced a prolonged period of depression, I felt strongly that I didn’t want to return to that place. I made sure that I made myself active. I knew that physical exercise was a good antidote for depression. So I make sure I swim at least four mornings a week. It wasn't a mania trying to hide depression, it was just some techniques I had learnt that were good for managing it.
It all seemed to work. I knew depression could return, but I thought (and pretty much still do think) I was managing it OK.
Then, one day about two months ago, pretty much out of the blue it pounced on me. I had experienced waking with that familiar dull feeling a couple of times in the days preceding but after my morning exercise, it went away. It's a bit like a cold. You get a sore throat and wonder if it is going to develop into anything further. Often it just goes away. It's the same with depression. I get those first feelings and wonder if it is going to develop. Later I'm relieved that it hasn't.
There is always somethig to get depressed about if I let it. Work prospects. Whether I like the work I'm doing. Whether I will ever get to do the work I really want, and feel called, to do. What other people think of me. The list goes on and on. Most times, it is a reminder that I need to do something. There is something on my mind (often only semi consciously) that I feel I should do. Really something I want to do in order to achieve a goal - something like developing a proposal to a client or, harder still, making that first contact with a prospective client. I am avoiding the hard thing and depression is my reminder. Most times I respond with some action and the black dog is sent away again for the time being.
This time seemed no different. I had been through a difficult experience which made me quite angry but at the same time left feeling quite helpless and impotent. The experience involved my life partner being portrayed in the media (probably the first time in her life anything she did had been the subject of media attention) in what I thought was a very unfair and very inacurate. However, I thought I was handling it OK.
At the same time, I am currently in the process of establishing a new business which is an important gamble for me. This business is about doing what I feel called to do – if it doesn't work, I will feel I have failed in my life's mission.
So it was one day I woke up feeling deeply depressed. I knew the feeling but had no idea how long it would last. Would it be a couple of hours, a couple of days or would it really set in? This time, it did set in. Over the next several weeks I was on a roller coaster ride, many times experiencing overwhelmening anxiety and helplessness.
I ended up taking almost two weeks off work – something I would have told myself I couldn't afford to do. Often just having to sit in a chair for an hour at a time telling myself over and over again that it was OK to stop and rest. I was no use to myself or to anyone else if I did not get well. Other times I just had to go for a long walk just to manage these overwhelming feelings which often came on as suddenly as being hit by a truck. One night I had to get up before we had finished our family meal and go for a walk.
Over this time, with the help of medication and the support of those around me the highs and lows of the roller coaster have levelled out.
Looking at myself now, I would say I was well again.
So, why is this a gift?
It is a gift on many levels.
At one level, it forced me to stop for a while and look at my lifestyle and what was really important to me. What did I really want to achieve in setting up this new business? What did I want to achieve for myself in my personal life? Included in this level was the opportunity for my partner and I to spend many lovely hours together doing things we would normally think we were too busy to do. Things like visiting nurseries and buying plants for the garden.
On another lever, this experience has given me a stronger empathy for others. It has deepened my committment to the work I do – guiding others to find their deepest purpose. It has reminded me this is my purpose. It enabled me to reconnect with my strong as steel commitment to this personal purpose.
At yet another level it has enabled me to experience connectedness with others on a plane we often do not get a chance to do. I decided early on that I would be honest with others about my illness. I wouldn't say I had the flu, I would say I have been suffering depression. I was a little afraid of doing this initially. How would people react? I need not have been. Every time I have discussed it with someone it has led to a deepening of the conversation. Often, very quickly it leads to us discussing life's greatest issues as the concern us personally. Have we achieved what we wanted to achieve? Is our current path leading us in the direction of achieving what we want? What do we think about the work we are currently doing? How do we think about ourselves in our work? Do we like ourselves?
None of these conversations would have occured at the level they did if I had not had the experience of being unwell.
I didn't like it at the time. It was awful – and I have only experienced it for a few weeks. Yet, without doubt, it was gift.
