Few if any people have never been in difficult situations that forced them to surrender and accept the consequences. We can't control other people--your children, your spouse, friends, work situation. It's difficult but not impossible to resist what you can't control. Once again, I turn to Victor Frankl and his philosophy of the one thing we all actually do have control of: the way we choose to respond to what is said and done to us or about us. Perhaps it's how you look at the situation and how you respond in a way that makes actions and words more bearable, easier to cope with. But how easy is it to accept, without resistance, difficult circumstances, hardship, and pain? There is, of course, a word for that: inurement.
The word inurement was first recorded between 1480 and 1490 from the Anglo French in ure and en ure from the Latin opera, plural of opus--work. Used as both a verb, a participle, and a noun, inure and inurement refer to an attitude that allows humans to endure suffering without being overcome by it.
Since we don't like pain and sometimes refuse to accept it, the inurement of physical or emotional pain is a gift. Yet, is an acceptance without resistance to difficulty and pain always a good thing? Does it actually teach us a lesson or make us stronger, or even encourage us to achieve the impossible dream?
Inurement doesn't necessarily mean you can change the situation, but you can respond in a way that makes the difficulty more bearable. A broken heart, a death, the loss of a job, not achieving the goal you think you always wanted--we may not be able to change anything by our resistance, but we have a choice in how we respond to what happens to us.
A myriad of self-help books have been written advising us how to respond to every problem that humans are faced with, and the truth is, the solutions aren't all the same. But perhaps the beginning of the solution may be. No one ever said life would be perfect or even easy, but no one also ever said the way to a better life was staying down when you were thrown for a loop.
My husband Patrick had such an intrinsic presence in my life that he made me a stronger, more versatile person. We spent so much time together that even today I expect him to walk into the kitchen for a cup of tea. How do I get through each day without him?
Neuroplasticity--another good Lambent Literacy word.
Neuroplasticity is the brain's ability to bounce back and grow to find an alternate route or solution. But does that actually work?
I lost Patrick on the 17th of August, 2021, almost seven months ago, and because I wanted him to return to his home in England and be celebrated there by his family and friends, I have waited for this closure until the 25th of June, 2022. My two daughters Kate and Rachel and their families will then be able to honor his life with me, there in Shoreham, West Sussex.
For seven months I have been orchestrating this day with help from my English family and Patrick's life long English friends that he kept in touch with while he lived in America--the 900 year old church setting, the lovely pub luncheon-gathering of friends and family. Patrick's four university friends wrote beautiful tributes to him and they will be meeting together with us for a reunion, one even coming in from Australia, to honor their friend.
The hymns we will sing speak of nature and God's beautiful earth, the scripture about love and hope, the tributes about the amazing impact he had on all of us. It will be a glorious celebration of a beautiful life and Patrick would have approved.
So how is my brain bouncing back and what alternative routes and solutions has all this planning brought me?
There is a peace that comes from knowing that this man's life truly mattered. I have often asked myself why we don't recognize the worth of a human being earlier in life, and why we don't acknowledge that life in a meaningful way. Why don't we go the distance for each other more often? I believe I did, but was it enough?
Neuroplasticity engenders inurement, and these lessons help us to respond to disappointments and loss in a way that brings hope rather than despair. Neuroplasticity turns thought distortions around and allows us to see another viewpoint, to respond in a more hopeful way--even if we have no power to change the outcome.
The next time I see Patrick in my mind's eye walking into the kitchen for a cup of tea, I'm going to imagine the smile on his face as he remembers that his friends and family got it right.
