Reframing November 14, 2019

In the months of July and August, as I lazed about recovering from architecture school, I suffered from boredom and sadness.  Some of that was to be expected - the inevitable energy letdown after years of hyper-stimulation and productivity.  But, as I tried to imagine a new and meaningful existence for myself going forward, I couldn’t shake off the overwhelming feeling of loss and futility.  I felt myself starting to circle the drain, and something had to be done.

Enter the advice of a beloved yoga teacher who asked our class to conjure an intention for our practice.  Though I’ve heard this prompt many times, on that particular morning I decided to commit to to the intention of happiness.  But how to make that happen?

For too many years, I grieved my daughter’s addiction and the loss of two husbands through death and divorce.  Alanon, anti-depressants, and focus on architecture all provided some respite, but overall I was in continued despair over my loneliness, lost years, and past terrors.  

I realized that I needed to change my point of view.  Underneath the wreckage of loss lay the attachments that made those casualties so painful.  In fact, so much of my past life had been filled with joy and meaning that perhaps I simply needed to bring to mind those people, events, and good fortune that formed the fabric of my life.  So I made an effort to reposition my perspective, to reframe the way I look at my life. 

Reframing seems to be working. I find myself reflecting on abundant blessings: parents who loved me, two brilliant husbands who inspired and encouraged me, a daughter who energized me with her enthusiasm and humbled me with her compassion, a career that exceeding any expectation, and friendships that were both more plentiful and meaningful than any one person could imagine.  I am grateful for all of them.

It is delusional, of course.  How often have I seen the elderly who live in the past, recounting their stories of youthful adventures, of beloved lost family, or of career highlights.  Dwelling on the past has always struck me as a crutch, enabling one to endure the inevitable decline in abilities, home-life, and opportunities. 

Now, I am one of those elderly people.  And delusional or not, I remind myself on a daily or even hourly basis of the many personal riches in which I have been bathed over 66 years.  Reframing has lifted my spirit and fostered happiness.  Occasionally, I can even feel my heart steeped in joy.