I used to work for an NGO and saw some violence, hunger and poverty in places like Ethiopia, Palestine and the favela slums of Brazil. Although my experience was moderate compared to some people’s in the sector, it was intense enough that “ordinary” life in the UK seemed to lack meaning afterwards. At the end of the three years of charity work I was somewhat burnt-out. I came home to the UK to settle down and figure out what to do with my life. At this point I had a couple of serious illnesses picked up along the way, a near death-car crash and my mother whom I am very close to got cancer. This period of my life as you can imagine SUCKED.
It was also at the end of this time when I decided to do something meaningful with my life long-term, got some focus and I started my business as soon as my mother started to recover (thank you NHS/God). This bounce-back is known technically as “post traumatic growth” and when difficult experiences are handled in a healthily manner is quite common. “The darkest hour is right before the dawn” or whatever cliche you prefer.
I stopped some damaging behaviours, became happier than I ever was and grateful to be alive and able to contribute. Since then life has really blossomed and I have a strong business, good health and a loving partner today. To pay my dues to life, on the trauma front I am now designing a program to increase the resiliency of people working in conflict zones which I think will prevent a lot of suffering.
It has been three years since my life was seriously threatened and what I find now is that priorities, perspective and the fact that life is short fades from memory amongst day-to-day concerns. Like most people I am more interested in the mundane details of work, weather, renting DVDs, what cute dress my girlfriend is wearing, than with the meaning of life. I don’t want to lose track of what’s important however so sometimes I just pretend I have cancer. To be crystal clear lest this post be considered bad taste, what I mean by this is that I remember that my time is limited and I like everyone else am dying (not lie or fake illness!) . I ask myself “If I had a year to live would I still do this work?”, “Would I hold back and keep being so nice?” Or “Would I say that hurtful thing or bite my tongue?” etc. I know this may sound strange but this perspective helps tremendously and keeps giving me the kind of life I enjoy. So, while I fully appreciate that life threatening illness and situations are no joke in one sense (though laughter was one of the things that kept me and my sister sane in hospital with mum) and I am not disrespecting anyone with any illness, I highly recommend looking at life through the lens of suffering and impermanence as the Buddhists might say. So go on, live a little – pretend you have cancer.
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Postscript: The biggest trauma of all however in this story is that I have just realised this post echoes a cheesy county and western song!