Have you ever taken a look back at all the twists and turns that your life has taken, and said to yourself, “What was all that about?” I know that I have . . . many times. When I used to think back to all the schooling I had and the work I did to prepare for my chosen profession and consider the relatively short period of time I actually spent in that profession before walking away from it, I would wonder what good it did me. When I remembered all the skills I developed from one career to the next, skills I’ll probably never used again in my life, I wonder what for. When I think back on all the crud I put up with from the ‘significant others’ in my life who eventually were never to be seen or heard from again (often thankfully), it would seem like such a waste. And then, when I considered all the hours I spent sweating and grunting and groaning in the gym and then look at the body I’ve wound up with, I certainly could have some serious doubts about what I ultimately gained from it.
The coming of midlife, when life’s pathways begin to diverge seriously from the map we’ve so carefully crafted for ourselves, brings with it the equivalent of an ‘engraved invitation’ to indulge ourselves in a virtual orgy of self-doubt. At these times of reflection, we’re tempted to look at all the personal resources that we’ve expended over the years to live up to expectations — from others (parents, teachers, spiritual and civic leaders, ‘gurus’ of various flavors, elders, mentors, friends, etc.) as well as from our own egos — and to question most seriously what it was all for. Over the years, haven’t I repeatedly just wasted my money, my blood, sweat, and tears, and, most precious of all to me, my time? Poet Robert Frost wrote about the ‘road not taken,’ but, at midlife we start to think back more frequently concerning the ‘road once taken, but abandoned.’ Was it worth it? Not so much. Is there an answer?
You betcha! By this time, as a Midlife Master, you must have realized that your perspective on life and love is not just your point of view: how you look at life, the universe, and everything actually creates the reality in which you live and move and have your being. When it all fails to make sense, it’s not the reality that needs adjusting; it’s your perspective on it.
I was in a meeting yesterday where a brilliantly insightful member shared how everything in her life served to prepare her for what came next, and, in addition, the skills and understanding she gained through careful adherence to the detailed policies and procedures she was ‘force’ to follow won her the freedom to innovate later on when she was no longer constrained (or no longer chose to be constrained) by external authorities or personal or institutional demands. I thought that her reflections on the topic were so incisive that I told her after the meeting that I was going to write about it. This aspect of midlife affects everyone who passes through it, in one way or another.
Take our experience with religion, for example. For years, in the ministry and long after, I’ve heard people complain about how mistreated they were by the religious institution they were brought up in, or how religious institutions deal unlovingly with their own members or with outsiders. I’ve listened to more than my share of tirades against the ‘institutional church.’ In each case, the indignant speaker cites personal or public anecdotes to demonstrate why s/he feels victimized by the institution and, in many cases, why those events should serve as evidence not only for the hypocrisy of religion in general, but also for the non-existence of God. This argument has spawned a plethora of folks who take great pride in proclaiming to whomever may be listening that they are ‘spiritual but not religious’ people. In their estimation,’religion’ represents a blight of ignorance on humanity rather than what its definition intends it to be: the summons to mindfulness.
Yet, ironically, it’s that very mindfulness that I find lacking in their arguments. There are many purposes for religious institutions, among which are the preservation and safeguarding of human spiritual experience (through Tradition with a capital ‘T’ as enshrined in Scriptures with a capital ‘S’) and the tutelage of each successive generation of novice believers (through institutional discipline as enshrined in its rules and regulations). Without those services to humanity, our common spiritual experience through which Higher Power communicates with humankind would be lost forever, and each generation would have to begin from square one learning the language of the divine.
At the same time, those who complain about how they were mistreated by religious institutions may not realize that, as people who insist on considering themselves victims, they have failed to grasp the very lessons that those religious institutions are in place to teach: namely, that no one can take advantage of you without your permission. Life is full of injustice; from earliest childhood to the indignities of old age, everyone at some time suffers pain of some sort at the hands of others. That is not the lesson that life teaches. That is simply a fact of life, like birth and death.
The lesson that life teaches concerns how we deal with the pain we encounter. Wallowing in blame and resentment only cements our status as victims. Yet, we are not victims unless we choose to be so! All tutelage — especially that offered by religious institutions — provides us with the platform from which we can learn how to transcend other-focused blame and resentment and gain independence and mature self-possession. Without spiritual tutelage (lessons in meditation and discipline), spiritual maturity would be impossible.
Nothing that you have experienced in life has gone to waste. Every element, every experience, every moment you’ve spent in travail has provided you with an opportunity — an invitation — to growth. Every moment you’ve lived and every person you’ve loved and every thought you’ve thought and every breath you’ve breathed has become a part of the person you are today. Some of those experiences have provided you with the raw materials you needed to grow both strong and wise. Other experiences (particularly those you’re allowing to haunt you as resentments) await the moment when you’ll assimilate them, too, into your growth process. Each one of them came to you as a gift that you need right now to become the person that you were destined to be. Whether or not you actually become that person is your choice: at any given moment, you have the choice either to resent the teacher or to be grateful for the lesson. So then, what’ll it be?
H. Les Brown, MA, CFCC
Copyright © 2010 H. Les Brown
Tags: blame, dead end, meaning, purpose, religion, Spirituality, suffering, victim, wasted life, wasted time
November 28th, 2010 at 9:38 am
Yes, Mr. Brown, people can take advantage of you without your permission. Sometimes blame/responsibility belongs squarely on another. Victimization is a fact. If someone is murdered, they are a victim, no amount of “perception” is going to change that. Same thing with someone molested by their minister, etc.. Bad, inexplicable things happen. People have to deal with emotions and feelings around being victimized (not by pretending they are not or being told all THEY need to do is change THEIR PERCEPTION of what happened?-try telling that to a Holocaust survivor). Processing and moving past it in a healthy way is the key.
January 27th, 2011 at 8:00 am
Thank you for your comment. What you say is very true: anyone can be ‘victimized’ by others or by circumstances. People bear no responsibility for their being the random object of calamities not of their own making or choosing (e.g.: the Holocaust — as you suggest).
However, that being said, there are two factors that need to be taken into consideration (and often aren’t). First, many apparently ‘random’ calamities aren’t perfectly ‘random’: in other words, people very often share (but deny) responsibility for their ‘bad luck’ by the exercise of poor judgment and/or lack of planning and due diligence. In taking a step back from any such event, it always pays to begin the analysis process by asking the question “What could I have done differently that might have avoided these consequences?” It’s always easier to place blame outside of one’s self than to take responsibility for poor choices or poor planning. I’m not talking blame here, just spiritually mature self-examination (the necessary prerequisite for learning and growth).
The second factor that needs to be taken into consideration is how I choose to view myself in the context of calamity. To see one’s self as a victim does nothing at all to address the situation. From what I have learned about Holocaust survivors, those that lived were very often those who refused to allow the situation to crush their spirits. I use the term “allow” advisedly: regardless of how powerless a person is faced with overwhelming odds, no one is powerless to choose his or her response. Those who see themselves as victims of circumstance choose to do so. Survivors refuse to do so.
All of life consists of constant lessons, constant opportunities for growth. At every juncture, each one of us has the inalienable right to choose how to respond to that opportunity. The survival of the spirit does not depend on the survival of the body. Freedom of spirit does not depend on freedom of the body. Greek philosopher Epictetus chose to accept his slavery to the Romans as a fact of his existence within which he was forced to live his intellectual life. Many LGBT people, facing the discrimination that comes from so many social institutions, find their inner freedom (and serenity) in accepting their orientation as a fact of life. Those who do not so choose generally become tortured souls.
In sum, spiritually, we are never truly ‘victims’ unless we choose to be so, regardless of external situations. That was the point of my article.
- Les