Recently, as I related in a previous post, my recovery fellowship lost a young and very beautiful friend to suicide. At a memorial in honor of our lovely acquaintance, several people shared about how difficult it is for individuals who are afflicted with severe mental illness to summon the strength to keep living. Every day is a struggle to hold onto faith and courage, to show up for loved ones, to not look for a way out. Our friend was incredibly courageous, it was noted again and again, and she kept going as long as she could, until she simply could no longer find the strength to walk another step.
I do not want to compare my relatively minor trials to my late friend’s agonizing hallucinations and despair, but I do know that many people, including me, suffer occasionally from the feeling that getting through the day requires a superhuman quantity of courage and effort. To be honest, and I feel ashamed to admit it, there have been a handful of days when I have considered the possibility of ending my own life because I did not know how to banish a sense of suffocating darkness. So far I have managed to not conceive of an escape plan. I have found resilience. I have rebounded. I have faith that with the help of my Higher Power I can keep finding my way back to a bright and serene place.
Sometimes, however, I need powerful encouragement to get back on my feet. Luckily, there is a very strong piece of recovery wisdom that has helped me hold onto hope. I carry it with me everywhere, I’ve written about it a couple of times, and sometimes I clutch onto it fiercely. I definitely think it has saved my life.
Don’t quit before the miracle.
When I first heard this beautiful proverb, I thought it was telling me to hang in with my recovery way of life because at some point along the road something marvelous and exceptional was going to happen. An amazing bit of luck would land in my lap: an extraordinary life partner, a small fortune, a creative opportunity that would brighten and broaden my world.
Over time, however, I have stopped expecting the pots of gold and grails and other epic dreams to come true. Instead I have become aware of the small miracles that appear in my life each day and inspire me to keep going. All I have to do is summon the energy to hoist myself out of my despair, or maybe it’s just ennui, long enough to take a look around and open my heart to everyday magic, and it never fails to show up:
For example:
The magic of running into an old friend.
The magic of a beautiful break in the clouds or a fresh breeze after a storm.
The magic of street musicians or a sweet song that comes on the radio.
The magic of a loving encounter with another human being.
The magic of receiving a real card or letter.
The magic of animals and babies spotted on a walk.
The magic of laughter and silliness.
The magic of pain or sadness ending.
To not quit before the miracle is to carry on each day with my ordinary endeavors, while holding onto the faith that bright and shiny moments will occur and remaining open to the luminous energy they bestow.
I am certain that my beautiful friend, in her 40 years of living, experienced episodes of spontaneous joy and everyday miracles. There were many happy stories at her memorial–about fishing trips with her Dad, her passion for drawing and hearty restaurant dinners, and her loving attachments to family and friends. Surely these brighter interludes offered respite from her pain.
I pray that I will hold onto my faith in miracles.
I wish the same for you.
Sober Words: reflections on the language of recovery 