Nin Mok's Blog
June 5, 2025
How Atheists Cope with Grief
In my book, Suddenly Silent and Still, I disclose I am an atheist and recount my lonesome journey through grief without a divine hand to hold. Several readers have expressed interest in understanding how atheists cope under senseless suffering. What do atheists do in tough times without faith to lean on? Some readers even left prayers on my behalf instead of a book review. Thank you. I appreciate you caring. In a nutshell, without a saviour, we lean on ourselves: our grit, resilience, and will.
Why I am an atheist
I am an atheist not from rebellion nor from lack of exposure—I have read the bible end-to-end and attended church throughout my catholic schooling. My atheism simply comes down to having not seen enough evidence. If one day God were to appear in a way I could comprehend, I would reevaluate. But in forty-five years of walking this earth, no divine voice has spoken to me in a language I understand. The two-way conversation I imagine in my mind between me and God, though often poetic and insightful, is not a genuine conversation.
It must be comforting to believe in a higher power that weaves every misfortune into a grand design. When tragedy strikes, a believer might say, “It’s part of His plan,” or “This is a test, and I’ll emerge stronger.” There is peace in surrendering control, especially when you are not in control. For atheists, that comfort does not exist. There is no celestial hand pulling us through the fire. All we have are our five senses, the observable universe, and the full weight of our inner thoughts to make sense of the seemingly senseless. A hug from a loved one, though comforting and necessary in times of sadness, cannot undo, explain, or rectify the unfathomable situation.
Our faith in nothingness is tested
Ironically, just as tragedy can shake someone’s belief in God, it can shake an atheist's conviction in randomness. When something rare, cruel, and deeply personal happens, it can feel like more than chance. To suffer in a way that statistics said was near impossible can feel like the atheist is chosen. Perhaps not by God, but by some force larger than themselves. Unlikely tragedies challenge the atheist’s faithlessness, and, in their vulnerability, some do turn to God, at least for a moment.
Choosing to go on - nihilism or existentialism
After the dust settles, the atheist is left with a question that religious believers rarely ask in earnest: Should I continue living? That is when the life review begins. What remains? What is still beautiful? What is still worth tasting? This isn’t a clean, two-column comparison between losses and gratitude. It’s an emotional examination that drags on for weeks or months because grief is a shape-shifter—it swells, shrinks and morphs. But eventually, it stabilises in form. And that’s when the most honest reckoning begins: Can I carry on given this new norm?
Absent a divine framework, the atheist must select a philosophical orientation. The two choices are the school of nihilism or existentialism. Nihilism, which asserts that life is intrinsically meaningless, has a certain sophisticated logic. After all, no one remembers where they were before birth; no one truly knows where they go after death. Our inconsequential stint here really does not matter. Yet to live by nihilism is, frankly, miserable. If I am to remain and live out the remainder of this life, then I prefer to choose existentialism. It is the belief that while life has no predetermined meaning; it is our responsibility to forge one. Meaning is not given, but must be made.
My road to purpose
In crafting my purpose, I often recall an old anime I encountered in my early twenties. Its message has stayed with me for over two decades. A boy sits on a bridge, crying, mourning the death of his parents. A stranger passes by, listens, and then tells him, “Since we are here anyway, we can keep crying on the bridge or go find something interesting to do.” The stranger extends a hand and pulls the boy up. Together, their adventure begins.
This has become the gospel I live by: if you’re here, find something that makes being here worthwhile. A passion, a project, a person—anything that gives weight to the void. If one chooses to remain, then one must also choose to engage with life, anchoring oneself in curiosity, in creation, in connection. This engagement becomes an act of resistance against despair.
Faith does not guide the atheist’s healing, rather, it is by time, choice, and stubborn effort. Eventually, with time, repetition, and one foot in front of the other, the distance grows, and the trauma outpaced—but never erased. One unremarkable step after another, every day, for years is not divine intervention. It is human resilience, unaided but no less remarkable.
Suddenly Silent and Still
Why I am an atheist
I am an atheist not from rebellion nor from lack of exposure—I have read the bible end-to-end and attended church throughout my catholic schooling. My atheism simply comes down to having not seen enough evidence. If one day God were to appear in a way I could comprehend, I would reevaluate. But in forty-five years of walking this earth, no divine voice has spoken to me in a language I understand. The two-way conversation I imagine in my mind between me and God, though often poetic and insightful, is not a genuine conversation.
It must be comforting to believe in a higher power that weaves every misfortune into a grand design. When tragedy strikes, a believer might say, “It’s part of His plan,” or “This is a test, and I’ll emerge stronger.” There is peace in surrendering control, especially when you are not in control. For atheists, that comfort does not exist. There is no celestial hand pulling us through the fire. All we have are our five senses, the observable universe, and the full weight of our inner thoughts to make sense of the seemingly senseless. A hug from a loved one, though comforting and necessary in times of sadness, cannot undo, explain, or rectify the unfathomable situation.
Our faith in nothingness is tested
Ironically, just as tragedy can shake someone’s belief in God, it can shake an atheist's conviction in randomness. When something rare, cruel, and deeply personal happens, it can feel like more than chance. To suffer in a way that statistics said was near impossible can feel like the atheist is chosen. Perhaps not by God, but by some force larger than themselves. Unlikely tragedies challenge the atheist’s faithlessness, and, in their vulnerability, some do turn to God, at least for a moment.
Choosing to go on - nihilism or existentialism
After the dust settles, the atheist is left with a question that religious believers rarely ask in earnest: Should I continue living? That is when the life review begins. What remains? What is still beautiful? What is still worth tasting? This isn’t a clean, two-column comparison between losses and gratitude. It’s an emotional examination that drags on for weeks or months because grief is a shape-shifter—it swells, shrinks and morphs. But eventually, it stabilises in form. And that’s when the most honest reckoning begins: Can I carry on given this new norm?
Absent a divine framework, the atheist must select a philosophical orientation. The two choices are the school of nihilism or existentialism. Nihilism, which asserts that life is intrinsically meaningless, has a certain sophisticated logic. After all, no one remembers where they were before birth; no one truly knows where they go after death. Our inconsequential stint here really does not matter. Yet to live by nihilism is, frankly, miserable. If I am to remain and live out the remainder of this life, then I prefer to choose existentialism. It is the belief that while life has no predetermined meaning; it is our responsibility to forge one. Meaning is not given, but must be made.
My road to purpose
In crafting my purpose, I often recall an old anime I encountered in my early twenties. Its message has stayed with me for over two decades. A boy sits on a bridge, crying, mourning the death of his parents. A stranger passes by, listens, and then tells him, “Since we are here anyway, we can keep crying on the bridge or go find something interesting to do.” The stranger extends a hand and pulls the boy up. Together, their adventure begins.
This has become the gospel I live by: if you’re here, find something that makes being here worthwhile. A passion, a project, a person—anything that gives weight to the void. If one chooses to remain, then one must also choose to engage with life, anchoring oneself in curiosity, in creation, in connection. This engagement becomes an act of resistance against despair.
Faith does not guide the atheist’s healing, rather, it is by time, choice, and stubborn effort. Eventually, with time, repetition, and one foot in front of the other, the distance grows, and the trauma outpaced—but never erased. One unremarkable step after another, every day, for years is not divine intervention. It is human resilience, unaided but no less remarkable.
Suddenly Silent and Still
Published on June 05, 2025 18:42
•
Tags:
atheism, chronic-illness, grief, loss, memoir, mental-health, religion, trauma
November 4, 2024
The Art of Finding Happiness
When I became ill, my world felt as though it was closing in. I could no longer engage in the activities that once brought me joy—swimming, travelling, dining out. My routine became mundane, prompting me to question whether I could still find happiness within these new constraints. To my surprise, I discovered that happiness doesn’t rely on constant thrills; it thrives on contrast. This realisation taught me that the relentless chase for unending happiness is, in fact, an impossible mission. This is why most of us pursue happiness, yet it often seems elusive.
To truly understand happiness, we must first explore the biological factors that govern it, particularly the role of hormones. Let’s unpack how our bodies manage these feelings, the importance of contrast, and how we can cultivate a peaceful state that supports genuine happiness.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬
A complex interplay of hormones largely governs happiness, but here are a few key players.
𝘿𝙤𝙥𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚
Often referred to as the “feel-good” hormone, dopamine is released during pleasurable activities and achievements. It rewards our brains for actions that contribute to our well-being.
𝙎𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙣
This hormone contributes to feelings of happiness and stability. It helps regulate mood, sleep, and appetite, promoting an overall sense of well-being.
𝙊𝙭𝙮𝙩𝙤𝙘𝙞𝙣
Known as the “love hormone,” oxytocin is released during social bonding, hugs, and other forms of physical affection, deepening our connections with others.
𝙀𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙨
These natural painkillers are released during exercise, laughter, and even certain foods, helping us cope with stress and enhancing our mood.
While these hormones contribute to feelings of happiness, our bodies are designed to prevent us from being in a constant state of euphoria. If we were flooded with these hormones permanently, we would simply do more of the triggering activity, and neglect essential survival activities like working and eating. Our bodies are not designed to pump happy hormones indefinitely. They require periods of emotional contrast to recognise and appreciate happiness when it occurs.
This is why the saying “joy wouldn't feel so good if it wasn't for pain” holds true. Without experiencing a state other than happiness (such as sadness or discomfort), we couldn’t identify happiness.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
Interestingly, the release of happy hormones doesn’t depend on the specific activities we engage in but rather on the contrast between our emotional states. Whether it’s a hunter-gatherer finishing a mud hut or an executive closing a multi-billion-dollar deal, the feelings of joy arise from the journey and struggles that precede these moments of achievement. Without the lows, the highs lose their significance.
Our obsession with happiness sends us on the pursuit of evermore extreme experiences to trigger happiness. We raise the stakes for generating the contrast needed to create happy hormones. As a result, the simpler everyday joys that used to make us happy are no longer enough. Consider the delight of children running through sprinklers on a hot summer day; that joy is often more profound than any elaborate vacation or expensive toys. By recognising that happiness can be triggered by these simpler moments, we can shift our focus away from a relentless chase for happiness and instead aspire to have meaningful down states that prepare us for our next happy moment.
Endlessly chasing happiness is a fool’s errand for happiness needs a contrast. The contrast needs not be sadness or anger. The downstate we should aspire to, and cultivate, is peace. Let peace be your restful state of happiness.
𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞
Downtime to generate the necessary contrast can be a peaceful respite—a restful state that complements happiness. The body can recognise the contrast between peace and happiness. Here are some strategies to cultivate peace in your life:
𝟭。 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬 𝘽𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨
Establishing clear boundaries helps protect your emotional space. Learning to say no and walking away from toxic situations can create a more peaceful environment, allowing you to recharge and reconnect with yourself. It is more likely that a toxic situation will change you (for the worse) than having you change it (for the better).
𝟮。 𝙇𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝘼𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮
Embrace who you are instead of trying to be someone else. Authenticity fosters self-acceptance and reduces internal conflict, making it easier to find peace. When you live true to yourself, your mind and emotions align, creating a harmonious state. It is often difficult to hear our inner voice amidst the noise of societal expectations. Carve out some quiet time for yourself, and listen carefully.
𝟯。 𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝘼𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙋𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙂𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨
Letting go of past grievances can lift a significant emotional burden. Holding onto resentment or anger can cloud your ability to find peace. Acknowledging and addressing these feelings allows for healing and a clearer path toward happiness. The past can no longer harm us as it is not actively happening. Making amends does not mean changing the situation or repairing relationships. It's letting go of expectations that it should have happened differently for you. Accept the lesson in the grief and how it shaped you into the worthy person you are today.
𝟰。 𝙋𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨
Mindfulness encourages us to stay present and acknowledge our emotions without judgment. By practising mindfulness, we can observe our thoughts and feelings, allowing for greater acceptance of both happy and sad moments. Resistance is suffering. No amount of anxiety is going to change the outcome.
𝟱。 𝙀𝙢𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚
Recognise that emotions—both good and bad—are transient. Just as happiness comes and goes, so do struggles. By adopting a mindset that sees emotions as temporary, we can approach life with greater resilience and not take things so seriously.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞
In our search for happiness, we often overlook the essential role of contrast. Downtime is a necessary component of our emotional landscape, allowing us to prepare for and trigger exhilarating feelings of joy. Ultimately, the art of finding happiness lies in our willingness to accept the ebb and flow of life.
By acknowledging the interplay of hormones, we can find a more balanced and fulfilling approach to happiness. Happiness is not a permanent destination but a transient feeling that can only be triggered by contrasting feelings. We can nurture inner peace between moments of joy instead of having sadness or anger be our contrasting states.
To truly understand happiness, we must first explore the biological factors that govern it, particularly the role of hormones. Let’s unpack how our bodies manage these feelings, the importance of contrast, and how we can cultivate a peaceful state that supports genuine happiness.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬
A complex interplay of hormones largely governs happiness, but here are a few key players.
𝘿𝙤𝙥𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚
Often referred to as the “feel-good” hormone, dopamine is released during pleasurable activities and achievements. It rewards our brains for actions that contribute to our well-being.
𝙎𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙣
This hormone contributes to feelings of happiness and stability. It helps regulate mood, sleep, and appetite, promoting an overall sense of well-being.
𝙊𝙭𝙮𝙩𝙤𝙘𝙞𝙣
Known as the “love hormone,” oxytocin is released during social bonding, hugs, and other forms of physical affection, deepening our connections with others.
𝙀𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙥𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙨
These natural painkillers are released during exercise, laughter, and even certain foods, helping us cope with stress and enhancing our mood.
While these hormones contribute to feelings of happiness, our bodies are designed to prevent us from being in a constant state of euphoria. If we were flooded with these hormones permanently, we would simply do more of the triggering activity, and neglect essential survival activities like working and eating. Our bodies are not designed to pump happy hormones indefinitely. They require periods of emotional contrast to recognise and appreciate happiness when it occurs.
This is why the saying “joy wouldn't feel so good if it wasn't for pain” holds true. Without experiencing a state other than happiness (such as sadness or discomfort), we couldn’t identify happiness.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐄𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
Interestingly, the release of happy hormones doesn’t depend on the specific activities we engage in but rather on the contrast between our emotional states. Whether it’s a hunter-gatherer finishing a mud hut or an executive closing a multi-billion-dollar deal, the feelings of joy arise from the journey and struggles that precede these moments of achievement. Without the lows, the highs lose their significance.
Our obsession with happiness sends us on the pursuit of evermore extreme experiences to trigger happiness. We raise the stakes for generating the contrast needed to create happy hormones. As a result, the simpler everyday joys that used to make us happy are no longer enough. Consider the delight of children running through sprinklers on a hot summer day; that joy is often more profound than any elaborate vacation or expensive toys. By recognising that happiness can be triggered by these simpler moments, we can shift our focus away from a relentless chase for happiness and instead aspire to have meaningful down states that prepare us for our next happy moment.
Endlessly chasing happiness is a fool’s errand for happiness needs a contrast. The contrast needs not be sadness or anger. The downstate we should aspire to, and cultivate, is peace. Let peace be your restful state of happiness.
𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞
Downtime to generate the necessary contrast can be a peaceful respite—a restful state that complements happiness. The body can recognise the contrast between peace and happiness. Here are some strategies to cultivate peace in your life:
𝟭。 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙬 𝘽𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨
Establishing clear boundaries helps protect your emotional space. Learning to say no and walking away from toxic situations can create a more peaceful environment, allowing you to recharge and reconnect with yourself. It is more likely that a toxic situation will change you (for the worse) than having you change it (for the better).
𝟮。 𝙇𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝘼𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮
Embrace who you are instead of trying to be someone else. Authenticity fosters self-acceptance and reduces internal conflict, making it easier to find peace. When you live true to yourself, your mind and emotions align, creating a harmonious state. It is often difficult to hear our inner voice amidst the noise of societal expectations. Carve out some quiet time for yourself, and listen carefully.
𝟯。 𝙈𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝘼𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙋𝙖𝙨𝙩 𝙂𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚𝙨
Letting go of past grievances can lift a significant emotional burden. Holding onto resentment or anger can cloud your ability to find peace. Acknowledging and addressing these feelings allows for healing and a clearer path toward happiness. The past can no longer harm us as it is not actively happening. Making amends does not mean changing the situation or repairing relationships. It's letting go of expectations that it should have happened differently for you. Accept the lesson in the grief and how it shaped you into the worthy person you are today.
𝟰。 𝙋𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙈𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙛𝙪𝙡𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨
Mindfulness encourages us to stay present and acknowledge our emotions without judgment. By practising mindfulness, we can observe our thoughts and feelings, allowing for greater acceptance of both happy and sad moments. Resistance is suffering. No amount of anxiety is going to change the outcome.
𝟱。 𝙀𝙢𝙗𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙚 𝙏𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙚
Recognise that emotions—both good and bad—are transient. Just as happiness comes and goes, so do struggles. By adopting a mindset that sees emotions as temporary, we can approach life with greater resilience and not take things so seriously.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞
In our search for happiness, we often overlook the essential role of contrast. Downtime is a necessary component of our emotional landscape, allowing us to prepare for and trigger exhilarating feelings of joy. Ultimately, the art of finding happiness lies in our willingness to accept the ebb and flow of life.
By acknowledging the interplay of hormones, we can find a more balanced and fulfilling approach to happiness. Happiness is not a permanent destination but a transient feeling that can only be triggered by contrasting feelings. We can nurture inner peace between moments of joy instead of having sadness or anger be our contrasting states.
Published on November 04, 2024 01:10
October 29, 2024
Navigating an identity crisis
I was on the verge of having an identity crisis when I became a Mum of two. I could have easily stepped through that door, but I remained outside of it, as an observer. I believed it was because the pros of becoming a mum ultimately outweighed the cons for me. However, when my children were five and three, I experienced a medical trauma that claimed two of my major senses, hearing in my left ear and my entire balance system. This significant loss triggered an identity crisis of major proportions—I well and truly stepped through that door.
Too ill to work, the prestigious career I spent two decades building up vanished overnight. Without a livelihood, I found myself in a precarious financial position. Do people like me still shop at Department Stores? Or are people like me supposed to thrift shop? The mirror added to my confusion with loungewear replacing power suits. No longer working, I questioned whether all the home chores were my responsibility. From manager to maid, I was thrown into an identity crisis. Here is what I learnt.
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬?
An identity crisis is a period of uncertainty and confusion in which an individual questions their sense of self. Before deciding what to wear, who to be friends with and what routines to adopt, we subconsciously ask ourselves, “Do people like me do things like this?” Our clear definition of ourselves and what makes up who we are provides the surety we need to make decisions and act. Without a clear sense of self, decisions that once seemed straightforward now lack clarity, evoking feelings of paralysis and emotional distress, akin to a sailboat stranded in the open sea without its sails—unable to move forward.
If you are feeling lost, indecisive, and estranged from yourself, you may be experiencing an identity crisis. This is where your sense of self, your idea of who you are, what makes you, you, has broken down—at least in your mind. From my experience, an identity crisis is triggered by a major change you deem as occurring for the “worse”. Let’s put it this way, no one has ever had an identity crisis from buying a house. Becoming homeless, however, will rock that identity boat for anyone.
The triggering change does not even have to be tangible. It could simply be a realisation, a “holy shit”, volcanic eureka moment.
𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞
Unlike the realities of trees, animals, and nature, our identity is a mental construct, an idea propped up by many elements. Through our experiences, we form a mental map of the world and evaluate where we sit within it. We do this by crafting narratives about ourselves that define who we are.
When we think of identity, we often think of our unwavering core attributes, characteristics, beliefs, and values. We believe an identity ought to be able to withstand life’s pressures, the scrutiny of others, and the test of time. Nothing can be further from the truth.
Our identity is propped up by so many spindly pillars that warp and change; our jobs, roles, gender, physical appearance, knowledge, religion and culture, political stance, hobbies, social networks and status, what we own and drive, our address, tastes, passion, skills, abilities and so much more. When one of these fragile structures collapses, in many instances outside of our control, we are dropped from sky-high back down to earth. This drop is what shakes our sense of self.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐠𝐨
Why does an identity crisis only happen on the way down and not on the rise? That is a good question because it uncovers the root cause of an identity crisis. It’s not because one of the factors propping up your identity has fallen—that’s a symptom. Rather it is because your human ego is on the quest for more, for bigger, for better. It’s constantly scanning and surveying your surroundings, sizing up everyone around you, comparing and ranking your position. The ego, forged in your mind, must feel superior and justify its existence. As far as the ego is concerned, being a righteous vegan is as acceptable as being a wealthy CEO. It only needs to be able to justify its superiority.
The ego will happily accept changes in the direction of more and fight to resist changes in the direction of less. This resistance manifests as an identity crisis. Imagine waking up and being able to fly one day. Something that extreme should have you questioning your identity, but chances are, your ego will embrace the Phoenix within and that would be that. Now imagine being in an accident and losing both of your legs. The ego will be rolling on the floor kicking and screaming like an unsatisfied toddler in a busy supermarket. It will continue to make noise and provoke uncomfortable feelings to gain your attention, coercing you to do everything in your power to change the situation and restore its superior place in this world. Kill the ego and cure the identity crisis. It’s that simple. The heart of the problem is our ego, not our failure to maintain the many transient elements that prop it up.
𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐠𝐨
A tragedy naturally dents the ego, but the ego will start rebuilding itself again immediately. Here are some of the ways to subdue our ego and give it less power to run our lives:
Ditched the labelling. Nothing is ever “good” or “bad” but a mixture of both. Even my health tragedy has many pros. Staying at home allowed me to get to know my children which I will never regret. It slowed down the pace of my life—something I truly needed but did not know I needed. It allowed me to pursue my other passions—I am soon to become an author. If the ego cannot recognise anything as superior or inferior, it cannot strive.
Acknowledge that nothing matters. We did not exist for billions of years before we were born and we will cease to exist billions of years after we die. To believe that in our short span on earth, we can achieve something that matters so significantly that our legacy will live on for eternity is the ego talking. Billions of people continue to make a difference for billions of years after our death. Their efforts will overwrite our stories, sooner or later. It’s okay if your life is subpar, average, or spectacular. It won’t matter in the big scheme of things.
Live in the present. The ego will plot, plan, and scheme its way to future stardom while seething at all the hurt and injustice inflicted on it in the past. None of these events are happening now, but the ego clings to them. In the case of past offenses, the ego asks, “How dare this happen to me?”, and for future success it's yet to obtain, the ego asks, “Why haven’t I gotten what I deserve?” The dissatisfied feeling it generates keeps you chasing and pursuing more, to build up your identity but it never gets enough.
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡?
Intertwining our identity with transient elements outside our control is like building a castle on sand. It is only a matter of time before the majestic structure crumbles. I no longer align myself with what I do or have, but rather with who I am. Being respectful and kind is a choice I can make. It is within my control, regardless of what is happening around me. I can choose to be a good person even when life becomes difficult.
An identity crisis can be an opportunity for growth and self-discovery. Allow yourself the space to redefine who you are. Your identity is not just what you’ve lost; it’s also what you can create anew. Engage in what you are passionate about each day while being mindful of your ego, and your identity crisis will take care of itself.
Too ill to work, the prestigious career I spent two decades building up vanished overnight. Without a livelihood, I found myself in a precarious financial position. Do people like me still shop at Department Stores? Or are people like me supposed to thrift shop? The mirror added to my confusion with loungewear replacing power suits. No longer working, I questioned whether all the home chores were my responsibility. From manager to maid, I was thrown into an identity crisis. Here is what I learnt.
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐬?
An identity crisis is a period of uncertainty and confusion in which an individual questions their sense of self. Before deciding what to wear, who to be friends with and what routines to adopt, we subconsciously ask ourselves, “Do people like me do things like this?” Our clear definition of ourselves and what makes up who we are provides the surety we need to make decisions and act. Without a clear sense of self, decisions that once seemed straightforward now lack clarity, evoking feelings of paralysis and emotional distress, akin to a sailboat stranded in the open sea without its sails—unable to move forward.
If you are feeling lost, indecisive, and estranged from yourself, you may be experiencing an identity crisis. This is where your sense of self, your idea of who you are, what makes you, you, has broken down—at least in your mind. From my experience, an identity crisis is triggered by a major change you deem as occurring for the “worse”. Let’s put it this way, no one has ever had an identity crisis from buying a house. Becoming homeless, however, will rock that identity boat for anyone.
The triggering change does not even have to be tangible. It could simply be a realisation, a “holy shit”, volcanic eureka moment.
𝐈𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞
Unlike the realities of trees, animals, and nature, our identity is a mental construct, an idea propped up by many elements. Through our experiences, we form a mental map of the world and evaluate where we sit within it. We do this by crafting narratives about ourselves that define who we are.
When we think of identity, we often think of our unwavering core attributes, characteristics, beliefs, and values. We believe an identity ought to be able to withstand life’s pressures, the scrutiny of others, and the test of time. Nothing can be further from the truth.
Our identity is propped up by so many spindly pillars that warp and change; our jobs, roles, gender, physical appearance, knowledge, religion and culture, political stance, hobbies, social networks and status, what we own and drive, our address, tastes, passion, skills, abilities and so much more. When one of these fragile structures collapses, in many instances outside of our control, we are dropped from sky-high back down to earth. This drop is what shakes our sense of self.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐠𝐨
Why does an identity crisis only happen on the way down and not on the rise? That is a good question because it uncovers the root cause of an identity crisis. It’s not because one of the factors propping up your identity has fallen—that’s a symptom. Rather it is because your human ego is on the quest for more, for bigger, for better. It’s constantly scanning and surveying your surroundings, sizing up everyone around you, comparing and ranking your position. The ego, forged in your mind, must feel superior and justify its existence. As far as the ego is concerned, being a righteous vegan is as acceptable as being a wealthy CEO. It only needs to be able to justify its superiority.
The ego will happily accept changes in the direction of more and fight to resist changes in the direction of less. This resistance manifests as an identity crisis. Imagine waking up and being able to fly one day. Something that extreme should have you questioning your identity, but chances are, your ego will embrace the Phoenix within and that would be that. Now imagine being in an accident and losing both of your legs. The ego will be rolling on the floor kicking and screaming like an unsatisfied toddler in a busy supermarket. It will continue to make noise and provoke uncomfortable feelings to gain your attention, coercing you to do everything in your power to change the situation and restore its superior place in this world. Kill the ego and cure the identity crisis. It’s that simple. The heart of the problem is our ego, not our failure to maintain the many transient elements that prop it up.
𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐠𝐨
A tragedy naturally dents the ego, but the ego will start rebuilding itself again immediately. Here are some of the ways to subdue our ego and give it less power to run our lives:
Ditched the labelling. Nothing is ever “good” or “bad” but a mixture of both. Even my health tragedy has many pros. Staying at home allowed me to get to know my children which I will never regret. It slowed down the pace of my life—something I truly needed but did not know I needed. It allowed me to pursue my other passions—I am soon to become an author. If the ego cannot recognise anything as superior or inferior, it cannot strive.
Acknowledge that nothing matters. We did not exist for billions of years before we were born and we will cease to exist billions of years after we die. To believe that in our short span on earth, we can achieve something that matters so significantly that our legacy will live on for eternity is the ego talking. Billions of people continue to make a difference for billions of years after our death. Their efforts will overwrite our stories, sooner or later. It’s okay if your life is subpar, average, or spectacular. It won’t matter in the big scheme of things.
Live in the present. The ego will plot, plan, and scheme its way to future stardom while seething at all the hurt and injustice inflicted on it in the past. None of these events are happening now, but the ego clings to them. In the case of past offenses, the ego asks, “How dare this happen to me?”, and for future success it's yet to obtain, the ego asks, “Why haven’t I gotten what I deserve?” The dissatisfied feeling it generates keeps you chasing and pursuing more, to build up your identity but it never gets enough.
𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡?
Intertwining our identity with transient elements outside our control is like building a castle on sand. It is only a matter of time before the majestic structure crumbles. I no longer align myself with what I do or have, but rather with who I am. Being respectful and kind is a choice I can make. It is within my control, regardless of what is happening around me. I can choose to be a good person even when life becomes difficult.
An identity crisis can be an opportunity for growth and self-discovery. Allow yourself the space to redefine who you are. Your identity is not just what you’ve lost; it’s also what you can create anew. Engage in what you are passionate about each day while being mindful of your ego, and your identity crisis will take care of itself.
Published on October 29, 2024 16:30
Getting through your trauma anniversary
8th of July 2021. I will forever remember that date for all the wrong reasons. It was the day I was struck down by a virus and as a result, lost two major senses instantly: hearing in my left ear and my entire balance system. I never thought about my balance until it was gone. In its absence, it was impossible to sit against the wall without falling to the side, let alone walk. So when the 8th of July rolls around again, I am deeply affected. Let’s unpack why a health trauma anniversary can be difficult for those grieving or are still grieving their significant loss.
𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲
As my health trauma anniversary approaches, often weeks or even months in advance, I become keenly aware of its impending arrival. The anxiety surrounding this date begins early and lingers in my mind. Referred to as the "anniversary effect," this phenomenon manifests as a resurgence of symptoms associated with the initial trauma.
Symptoms such as insomnia, chronic fatigue, anxiety, depression, and panic attacks may surface during this period. The anniversary serves as a reminder of the traumatic event, triggering a revisitation of the emotions and sensations experienced during that challenging time.
To mitigate the emotional impact of the anniversary blues, I try to stay engaged and occupied leading up to the date. Planning activities, preferably with a trusted companion, can provide distraction and emotional support during this sensitive time. It's important not to pathologize these feelings as indicative of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) unless clinically diagnosed, and instead, approach them with understanding and self-compassion.
With time, the anniversary will eventually become less burdensome, evolving into a day like any other.
𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦
Initially, coping with a health trauma may feel like a temporary disruption—an unexpected detour from normal life. However, with each passing year, what once seemed temporary like a new disability, may solidify into a new normal. Adaptations and accommodations become woven into daily routines, transforming an exception into a lifestyle. The anniversary marks not just a milestone, but a recognition that this could be the path forward, perhaps indefinitely.
Acceptance of a situation perceived as transient differs markedly from embracing an enduring circumstance. While you may have initially coped with the belief that your plight was temporary, the anniversary of a health trauma forces a confrontation with its permanent reality. This formal demarcation requires a renewed effort towards accepting a less-than-ideal state within a “forever” context, that this life is here to stay.
Confronting the permanency of a health trauma often reignites the grief cycle—emotions like anger, bargaining, and sadness resurface as you adjust to your long-term reality. You may need to navigate through these grief stages again to reach a renewed acceptance.
𝐀𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞
Long-term health challenges can amplify the sense of suffering. I am reminded of a modern parable circulating on the internet. A teacher asks a student to hold up a glass of water and queries whether it is heavy. As time progresses, the once light cup of water grows increasingly burdensome, feeling like lead in the student's hand.
Living with a chronic illness affects not only our physical well-being but also our mental and emotional states. Reflecting on your life and contemplating suffering endured for a week versus over a decade distinctly influences your internal narratives. The long-term narrative can lead to self-pity as you navigate through years of treatments, adaptations, and setbacks.
In considering chronic illness over time, it is essential to reevaluate its impact through a lens of personal growth and resilience. Rather than viewing the passage of time solely as a collection of accumulated suffering, it can be more constructive to perceive it as the means for transformation. Only adversity and ongoing challenges can cultivate resilience, empathy, and personal growth. This shift in perspective encourages individuals to recognise their journey as a testament to their character development, fostering a sense of purpose while living with a chronic illness.
𝐃𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤
In the aftermath of a health trauma, society’s attention and support peak initially, only to wane over time. As anniversaries come and go, the surrounding support network may diminish. Friends and family may assume that with time, the impact lessens or that you have adapted sufficiently. Yet, you may still require ongoing understanding and support, regardless of how much time has passed.
On my health trauma anniversary, I was discharged from the hospital rehabilitation program, marking a period where further physical improvement was deemed improbable. Feeling like a baby bird that got prematurely pushed from my nest, I had to adjust to a life without medical assistance. Through perseverance, I learned to navigate my new reality independently. I learnt to fly.
Independence, though initially daunting, is a valuable gift to appreciate. The diminishing support network necessitates an independence we may not feel prepared for, but it catalyses our personal growth. When our loneliness transitions from sadness to tranquillity, we discover self-sufficiency.
Growth is painful and if the suffering is too much to bear, you can always check in with your support network. Your support network has not vanished, rather it has transformed, lying dormant, ready to be revitalised if needed. You just need to reach out and let them know.
𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬
Health trauma anniversaries prompt a point in time to evaluate our progress, often revealing our self-critical nature when making the assessment. Despite the passage of time, achieving full acceptance of a challenging situation remains elusive for many. It’s okay to acknowledge that some wounds never fully heal, and some adjustments never quite feel comfortable. The journey towards acceptance is nonlinear, marked by moments of resilience and defeat interchangeably. Healing is a process, not a destination and it's okay if we never “get there”.
𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲
As my health trauma anniversary approaches, often weeks or even months in advance, I become keenly aware of its impending arrival. The anxiety surrounding this date begins early and lingers in my mind. Referred to as the "anniversary effect," this phenomenon manifests as a resurgence of symptoms associated with the initial trauma.
Symptoms such as insomnia, chronic fatigue, anxiety, depression, and panic attacks may surface during this period. The anniversary serves as a reminder of the traumatic event, triggering a revisitation of the emotions and sensations experienced during that challenging time.
To mitigate the emotional impact of the anniversary blues, I try to stay engaged and occupied leading up to the date. Planning activities, preferably with a trusted companion, can provide distraction and emotional support during this sensitive time. It's important not to pathologize these feelings as indicative of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) unless clinically diagnosed, and instead, approach them with understanding and self-compassion.
With time, the anniversary will eventually become less burdensome, evolving into a day like any other.
𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐦
Initially, coping with a health trauma may feel like a temporary disruption—an unexpected detour from normal life. However, with each passing year, what once seemed temporary like a new disability, may solidify into a new normal. Adaptations and accommodations become woven into daily routines, transforming an exception into a lifestyle. The anniversary marks not just a milestone, but a recognition that this could be the path forward, perhaps indefinitely.
Acceptance of a situation perceived as transient differs markedly from embracing an enduring circumstance. While you may have initially coped with the belief that your plight was temporary, the anniversary of a health trauma forces a confrontation with its permanent reality. This formal demarcation requires a renewed effort towards accepting a less-than-ideal state within a “forever” context, that this life is here to stay.
Confronting the permanency of a health trauma often reignites the grief cycle—emotions like anger, bargaining, and sadness resurface as you adjust to your long-term reality. You may need to navigate through these grief stages again to reach a renewed acceptance.
𝐀𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞
Long-term health challenges can amplify the sense of suffering. I am reminded of a modern parable circulating on the internet. A teacher asks a student to hold up a glass of water and queries whether it is heavy. As time progresses, the once light cup of water grows increasingly burdensome, feeling like lead in the student's hand.
Living with a chronic illness affects not only our physical well-being but also our mental and emotional states. Reflecting on your life and contemplating suffering endured for a week versus over a decade distinctly influences your internal narratives. The long-term narrative can lead to self-pity as you navigate through years of treatments, adaptations, and setbacks.
In considering chronic illness over time, it is essential to reevaluate its impact through a lens of personal growth and resilience. Rather than viewing the passage of time solely as a collection of accumulated suffering, it can be more constructive to perceive it as the means for transformation. Only adversity and ongoing challenges can cultivate resilience, empathy, and personal growth. This shift in perspective encourages individuals to recognise their journey as a testament to their character development, fostering a sense of purpose while living with a chronic illness.
𝐃𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤
In the aftermath of a health trauma, society’s attention and support peak initially, only to wane over time. As anniversaries come and go, the surrounding support network may diminish. Friends and family may assume that with time, the impact lessens or that you have adapted sufficiently. Yet, you may still require ongoing understanding and support, regardless of how much time has passed.
On my health trauma anniversary, I was discharged from the hospital rehabilitation program, marking a period where further physical improvement was deemed improbable. Feeling like a baby bird that got prematurely pushed from my nest, I had to adjust to a life without medical assistance. Through perseverance, I learned to navigate my new reality independently. I learnt to fly.
Independence, though initially daunting, is a valuable gift to appreciate. The diminishing support network necessitates an independence we may not feel prepared for, but it catalyses our personal growth. When our loneliness transitions from sadness to tranquillity, we discover self-sufficiency.
Growth is painful and if the suffering is too much to bear, you can always check in with your support network. Your support network has not vanished, rather it has transformed, lying dormant, ready to be revitalised if needed. You just need to reach out and let them know.
𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬
Health trauma anniversaries prompt a point in time to evaluate our progress, often revealing our self-critical nature when making the assessment. Despite the passage of time, achieving full acceptance of a challenging situation remains elusive for many. It’s okay to acknowledge that some wounds never fully heal, and some adjustments never quite feel comfortable. The journey towards acceptance is nonlinear, marked by moments of resilience and defeat interchangeably. Healing is a process, not a destination and it's okay if we never “get there”.
Published on October 29, 2024 16:27
Ultimate guide to navigating grief and loss
What you have gone through is unimaginable and unbearable. Your turbulent emotions are overwhelming you. They are spilling out in tears and tantrums, alternating with being withdrawn and recluse. You feel fearful of the future and what is going to happen. Your shattered confidence doesn’t have the will to pick up the pieces and carry on. This is the heart of what grief and loss feel like in a situation that is unfathomable.
In this comprehensive guide, we will explore profound concepts that acknowledges the gravity of your experiences, and offer a roadmap to rebuild and rediscover joy amidst the wreckage.
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬
What happened to you replays in your mind like a broken record. You get no reprieve from it, regardless of what you are doing. It is in the forefront of your mind twenty-four-seven. It is simply unbelievable. Too surreal to accept. It is difficult to focus on anything else when your mind is preoccupied with thinking about your loss. You try to make sense of what had happened, asking questions like:
・“Why me?”
・“How did I not see this coming?”
・“What could I have done to avoid the situation?”
・“Did I deserve this?”
・“What I would give up to have things return to normal?”
Misfortunes of great magnitude often occur without cause and effect or even a pre-warning. There is no logic or reason behind the event, it just is. It’s not like swimming in the ocean and getting eaten by a shark. That’s not misfortune, that is cause and effect.
The world has millions of moving parts, interacting with one another in a complex web that it is impossible to untangle the why from the what? Earthquakes, brain aneurysms, terminal diagnoses, miscarriages, terrorist attacks and being attacked in your own home.
You will drive yourself insane finding logical answers to a senseless situation. It is a lot of needless energy spent on something that cannot be changed. When it creeps into your mind, cast it out and carry on. Keep doing this. Save your energy for dealing with the actual situation.
𝐁𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
Expecting to feel happy all the time is not only unrealistic but it's also sure recipe for depression. Sometimes we are going to feel sad, and less often we are going to feel gut-wrenchingly horrible. This is reality. Everyone does their time in the sad pit.
Emotions are like the weather; you cannot change it. You can only be with it, sit with it, and get to know it. When it rains, we don’t try to stop, deny it or label it. We simply work with it and work around it. The same treatment needs to occur with our emotions. Do not hurry your emotions along, ignore them or suppress them. Simply acknowledge them and carry on.
Our emotions are also like the weather in that it comes and goes. This too shall pass. To make life changing decisions and take life changing actions at the height of strong emotions is unwise. Allow time to do its best work. Even Hiroshima half- lives over time, and so will your explosive emotions.
The rain passes when it passes. There is no correct length of time to grieve. Your experiences are unique and so is your trauma response. Never feel guilty or inadequate that you are grieving for too long. You are doing your best in your situation and there is no better than that.
No one can mourn forever. It is simply too sad to exist that way. Things will naturally come to a head where change will occur. In the meantime, while it rains, you can sit indoors and watch a movie, or you can dance in the rain. What you cannot do is get worked up over rain.
𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞
In these chaotic and confusing times, remember to keep things simple. Misfortune throws our lives, definitions, and routines into disarray. The easiest way to get organised again is to have less to organise.
You are currently in survival mode. When chased by a lion, there is no room to be planning out next week or next year. You only need to focus on the next step. Getting out of bed, brushing your teeth, doing the dishes, or paying the bills. By doing the next important thing, you will gain distance between yourself and the lion. It is only then you can afford to ponder on more complex subjects.
You don’t need to have your purpose and identity figured out right now. It will take time to redefine who you are and what now gives your life meaning. Your identity and purpose can only be redefined by spending some time living out your new circumstances. Your new ways of life will inform your thoughts, which will eventually give rise to the answers you seek. In the meantime, your identity is an adult, and your purpose is to keep an open mind.
The Roman philosopher Seneca once said, "If you don't know what port you're sailing to, no wind is favourable". I disagree. If you don’t know what port you are sailing to, all wind is favourable.
𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟
The grief never lessens but it can be made to feel smaller by growing a bigger life around it. There is no single action you can take or a sentence you can say to move on from grief. Rather, moving on means finding the courage to continue living your life. To put yourself back out there and build new memories, make new friends and engage in new experiences.
Seek your passion, activities that give you some pleasure in this saddened wasteland. Grab it and run with it. Even if it is just going through the motions at the beginning. Joy will creep back in and when it does, you will surprise yourself. Little by little, day by day, eventually adds up to big gains. Take that bath. Take that walk around the block. Light that scented candle. Make that cup of hot beverage. Get a start on that book.
As your life keeps growing bigger, your trauma event starts to appear smaller, even sometimes getting lost in the expansive life you have created. Now and then, like an old book on the shelves, you might pull out your trauma and revisit its pages. The feelings will flood back and remind you, it never went away. All that happened was your book collection got bigger.
𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰
No one ever changed from a place of comfort. It takes a sizable misfortune to generate the kind of discomfort that is a catalyst for change. Every crisis is an opportunity for you to grow your soul. Viktor E. Frankl said, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves,” and this is what you must do.
Frankl asked a grieving husband, “If you had died first, what would it have been like for your wife?” He responded that it would have been incredibly difficult for her. Frankle pointed out that he had spared his wife this immense suffering by carrying the grief on her behalf. The man, though still sad, no longer felt powerless. He had found meaning in his suffering. He could carry the grief instead of his wife.
Seek out teachers. They exist everywhere around you. You are not the first person in a world of billions to go through what you are experiencing. Learn from others who are further along in their journey. Ask questions, “Why are they okay now?” Teachers come in many forms, from observing nature, leveraging the wisdom of the elderly, listening to untainted views of children and following inspirational thought leaders. Be humble and keen to learn.
Challenge the status quo. How you have presently lived is just one way. Your reality is simply your perspectives and reactions to a situation. Challenge your ideas and change your reality. Redefine new measures and find a better way to be.
𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠
You cannot lose what you had in the past because it already happened. The past, etched in memories, is an undeniable truth. The only mourning is required for future losses, which, arguably, you never had it yet and therefore not yours to keep or lose.
Moving on doesn’t mean letting go of the past. That’s yours to keep forever. Moving on is simply coming to terms with what has happened and forging a way to keep living. It will not invalidate what you once had. No one and nothing you do can change history. History is yours to keep. The future is yours to build.
In this comprehensive guide, we will explore profound concepts that acknowledges the gravity of your experiences, and offer a roadmap to rebuild and rediscover joy amidst the wreckage.
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬
What happened to you replays in your mind like a broken record. You get no reprieve from it, regardless of what you are doing. It is in the forefront of your mind twenty-four-seven. It is simply unbelievable. Too surreal to accept. It is difficult to focus on anything else when your mind is preoccupied with thinking about your loss. You try to make sense of what had happened, asking questions like:
・“Why me?”
・“How did I not see this coming?”
・“What could I have done to avoid the situation?”
・“Did I deserve this?”
・“What I would give up to have things return to normal?”
Misfortunes of great magnitude often occur without cause and effect or even a pre-warning. There is no logic or reason behind the event, it just is. It’s not like swimming in the ocean and getting eaten by a shark. That’s not misfortune, that is cause and effect.
The world has millions of moving parts, interacting with one another in a complex web that it is impossible to untangle the why from the what? Earthquakes, brain aneurysms, terminal diagnoses, miscarriages, terrorist attacks and being attacked in your own home.
You will drive yourself insane finding logical answers to a senseless situation. It is a lot of needless energy spent on something that cannot be changed. When it creeps into your mind, cast it out and carry on. Keep doing this. Save your energy for dealing with the actual situation.
𝐁𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
Expecting to feel happy all the time is not only unrealistic but it's also sure recipe for depression. Sometimes we are going to feel sad, and less often we are going to feel gut-wrenchingly horrible. This is reality. Everyone does their time in the sad pit.
Emotions are like the weather; you cannot change it. You can only be with it, sit with it, and get to know it. When it rains, we don’t try to stop, deny it or label it. We simply work with it and work around it. The same treatment needs to occur with our emotions. Do not hurry your emotions along, ignore them or suppress them. Simply acknowledge them and carry on.
Our emotions are also like the weather in that it comes and goes. This too shall pass. To make life changing decisions and take life changing actions at the height of strong emotions is unwise. Allow time to do its best work. Even Hiroshima half- lives over time, and so will your explosive emotions.
The rain passes when it passes. There is no correct length of time to grieve. Your experiences are unique and so is your trauma response. Never feel guilty or inadequate that you are grieving for too long. You are doing your best in your situation and there is no better than that.
No one can mourn forever. It is simply too sad to exist that way. Things will naturally come to a head where change will occur. In the meantime, while it rains, you can sit indoors and watch a movie, or you can dance in the rain. What you cannot do is get worked up over rain.
𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞
In these chaotic and confusing times, remember to keep things simple. Misfortune throws our lives, definitions, and routines into disarray. The easiest way to get organised again is to have less to organise.
You are currently in survival mode. When chased by a lion, there is no room to be planning out next week or next year. You only need to focus on the next step. Getting out of bed, brushing your teeth, doing the dishes, or paying the bills. By doing the next important thing, you will gain distance between yourself and the lion. It is only then you can afford to ponder on more complex subjects.
You don’t need to have your purpose and identity figured out right now. It will take time to redefine who you are and what now gives your life meaning. Your identity and purpose can only be redefined by spending some time living out your new circumstances. Your new ways of life will inform your thoughts, which will eventually give rise to the answers you seek. In the meantime, your identity is an adult, and your purpose is to keep an open mind.
The Roman philosopher Seneca once said, "If you don't know what port you're sailing to, no wind is favourable". I disagree. If you don’t know what port you are sailing to, all wind is favourable.
𝐆𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟
The grief never lessens but it can be made to feel smaller by growing a bigger life around it. There is no single action you can take or a sentence you can say to move on from grief. Rather, moving on means finding the courage to continue living your life. To put yourself back out there and build new memories, make new friends and engage in new experiences.
Seek your passion, activities that give you some pleasure in this saddened wasteland. Grab it and run with it. Even if it is just going through the motions at the beginning. Joy will creep back in and when it does, you will surprise yourself. Little by little, day by day, eventually adds up to big gains. Take that bath. Take that walk around the block. Light that scented candle. Make that cup of hot beverage. Get a start on that book.
As your life keeps growing bigger, your trauma event starts to appear smaller, even sometimes getting lost in the expansive life you have created. Now and then, like an old book on the shelves, you might pull out your trauma and revisit its pages. The feelings will flood back and remind you, it never went away. All that happened was your book collection got bigger.
𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰
No one ever changed from a place of comfort. It takes a sizable misfortune to generate the kind of discomfort that is a catalyst for change. Every crisis is an opportunity for you to grow your soul. Viktor E. Frankl said, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves,” and this is what you must do.
Frankl asked a grieving husband, “If you had died first, what would it have been like for your wife?” He responded that it would have been incredibly difficult for her. Frankle pointed out that he had spared his wife this immense suffering by carrying the grief on her behalf. The man, though still sad, no longer felt powerless. He had found meaning in his suffering. He could carry the grief instead of his wife.
Seek out teachers. They exist everywhere around you. You are not the first person in a world of billions to go through what you are experiencing. Learn from others who are further along in their journey. Ask questions, “Why are they okay now?” Teachers come in many forms, from observing nature, leveraging the wisdom of the elderly, listening to untainted views of children and following inspirational thought leaders. Be humble and keen to learn.
Challenge the status quo. How you have presently lived is just one way. Your reality is simply your perspectives and reactions to a situation. Challenge your ideas and change your reality. Redefine new measures and find a better way to be.
𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠
You cannot lose what you had in the past because it already happened. The past, etched in memories, is an undeniable truth. The only mourning is required for future losses, which, arguably, you never had it yet and therefore not yours to keep or lose.
Moving on doesn’t mean letting go of the past. That’s yours to keep forever. Moving on is simply coming to terms with what has happened and forging a way to keep living. It will not invalidate what you once had. No one and nothing you do can change history. History is yours to keep. The future is yours to build.
Published on October 29, 2024 16:21


