Lower the Sails!

 

Rough Waters

“Smooth seas do not make skillful sailors.”

African Proverb

          According to Carl Jung, we need to struggle. In his collected works, he wrote, “There is no coming to consciousness without pain.” I don’t like that at all, but I have found it to be true. Jung was many things, not the least of which was an insightful, self-examining human being. One major struggle for most of us comes when we begin grappling with our Shadow—the parts of us that we keep out of sight, not only from others, but from ourselves. Included in the Shadow are characteristics such as jealousy, hatred, contempt; some of us also hide our fragility and neediness. We try to ignore those parts because we don’t like them and because they cause us shame. The more we try to keep them in the dark, however, the more mischief they make in our lives.

          Unfortunately, we learn best from pain—whether physical or psychic. As the African proverb says, we don’t become great sailors by paddling around in calm waters. It is only in being tested by the storms of life that we can measure our true mettle. And, truth be told, we don’t really have a choice—because life itself deals the cards. Some of us struggle less, and some more, but no one gets through life without bruises and scars. Most of us, it turns out, are stronger than we think. Dreadful things happen; things we think we can’t deal with, but somehow, we do.

I think about my mother who had one child with spina bifida, one with cerebral palsy, and one who was a forest-and-field-wanderer and daydreamer from birth (that would be me). No one prepared her for any of that—she was the usual, beautiful, high school sweetheart, and jitterbug dancer. One week after her marriage at eighteen, her life took a left turn. There was a world war, and then sick babies, and then an alcoholic husband. But she survived—even though she lost all but one of those people she loved before her own death at 84. As Cayla Mills says, “You never know how strong you are…until being strong is the only choice you have.”

There are so many ways to struggle. We don’t like any of them unless we choose them—like climbing Mt. Everest or running an Ironman. Most of us have our challenges dealt to us without permission. How would we be different if we were to welcome these rough seas as much as we do the calm waters? What if we chose to see them as wise old teachers in disguise? Who knows what we might learn?

                                        In the Spirit,

                                        Jane