What Can We Learn from Pain and Failure?
Listen: “Hurt” by Nine Inch Nails or the Johnny Cash cover
I have a harsh inner critic. If something goes wrong in any of my relationships or surroundings, my first impulse is to look inwardly and blame myself. This is my first impulse. It is not always negative. It does cause me to do a lot of honest soul searching, but it can be very negative. It can quickly devolve into shame. Shame is that harsh inner critic that tells me “I am never good enough,” or “I am an idiot,” “it’s all my fault,” or “I am a piece of fecal material.”
Pain and suffering is a part of the human experience. No one escapes it. Pain has many faces. It can be physical pain due to injury, illness, or degeneration. It can be emotional pain brought on by the trauma of betrayal, neglect, or abuse; or it can be emotional pain brought on by our own bad choices. Sometimes circumstances seem to mount against us with no purpose or design except destruction—a natural disaster, a car crash, or a pandemic.
How can we move through pain and suffering without devolving into shame, hopelessness, or bitterness? Viktor Frankl was an Austrian Holocaust survivor and wrote an autobiographical best selling book entitled Man’s Search for Meaning. He noticed that those who survived had a common ability to transform suffering into meaning.
If we go through pain and suffering, we might as well learn something. In fact, the adult brain is most adept at rewiring and learning when pain is present. Seeing pain as a teacher is one way to transform suffering into meaning. Just as some artists create meaning out of dust and chaos, so we too can respond creatively to pain and suffering.
The art of redirection. Judo is a martial art in which I have never participated, but I have always been fascinated with the concepts of the technique. I participated in the Shotokan style of karate in college, and all forms of martial arts adapt the concepts of Judo to some degree. According to Judo, the art of redirection lies in one’s ability to adjust to the attack of a more powerful opponent in a way that causes the opponent to lose balance and then use that power against them. Pain is most always an unwelcome intruder, but how can we redirect our focus to see the opportunities for spiritual growth? Every painful circumstance presents a new set of opportunities to love, serve, and connect with others who are in pain and suffering. Only then does our wound become a sacred wound. Psychologists have coined the term “Post-Traumatic Growth,” which demonstrates how humans have the immense capacity to recover with dignity and grace, resiliency and growth (Scientific American, “Post-Traumatic Growth: Finding Meaning and Creativity in Adversity,” by Scott Barry Kaufman, April 20, 2020).
The art of falling upward. In 2019, when I was drowning in shame and darkness, a friend sent me a book by Richard Rohr entitled Falling Upward. I will be forever grateful for his act of kindness because Rohr’s book helped jump start my shaken faith. Our personal failures are opportunities to learn and grow. They make us part of the human race and have the ability to catapult us into new adventures. Thomas Edison, the great American inventor, never viewed failure as negative. He didn’t see himself as a failure; he just learned another way not to do something. Failed inventions are not as painful as failed relationships or careers, but there’s an important truth in this attitude towards failure. Failure doesn’t define us if we don’t let it. Richard Rohr says:
One of the great surprises is that humans come to full consciousness precisely by shadow boxing, facing their own contradictions, and making friends with their own mistakes and failings. People who have had no inner struggles are invariably both superficial and uninteresting.
The art of self-compassion. This brings me back to my inner critic. I have always been extremely gracious and forgiving towards just about everybody I have ever met or with whom I had a relationship. One of my guiding values has always been to “err on the side of grace” when dealing with people. Why don’t I give myself the same kindness and forgiveness that I have always given other people? I have high standards for myself, for sure. When I fail to live up to those high standards, I can be incredibly harsh on myself. One definition of shame I heard from Brene Brown is “unwanted identity.” I always wanted to be a pastor who finished well. I never wanted my story to be one of “public moral failure” or “fallen mega-church pastor.” I prayed millions of prayers over decades for God to “lead me not into temptation, but deliver me from evil.” Does hating myself or punishing myself make my failure better or more tolerable? Absolutely not! It does the opposite; shame only compounds the misery. If God forgives me and always loves me, who am I not to love me and forgive me. As Brene Brown says, “When we deny the story, it defines us. When we own the story, we can write a brave new ending.” The brave new ending emerges with self-compassion.
Shalom
©realfredherron 2021
