The Beauty of NOT Fixing Things

I had a sweet, yet powerful experience at work on Friday that humbled me and taught me that there is a beautiful freedom in not always fixing things. Because it happened at work, and regarding a patient, I can’t say much due to HIPAA rules, but I think what I can safely say is that this woman, I’ll call her “Regina,” is essentially quadriplegic. (For example, even though she does have some very limited use of her hands/arms, she is unable to feed herself.)

Regina’s been having a rough time. She asked me for a blessing the day previous (Thursday), which I gave her. Then on Friday, I got a message that she wanted to see me. I’m not going to lie here, even though this is going to make me seem like a terrible person, because even though I love Regina, it’s sometimes hard to be around her because it takes a lot of energy to interact with her. I know that sounds horrible, especially when she is clearly not at fault, but it’s important that you know that because it sets the stage for what follows.

In the afternoon I decided it was time for me to go visit with her to see what she needed from me. As I walked to her room, I mentally prepared myself, as I usually do for each patient, in order to ready myself for what I knew would most likely be a draining experience. I gowned up fully, (because, thanks Covid!), and went in.

She started by thanking me for giving her a blessing. She recalled me placing a dab of oil on her head, but didn’t remember much after that. I typically don’t recall much when I give a blessing, but I told her all that I could remember. Then she started talking to me about her fears. These kinds of conversations aren’t new and part of why it takes a lot of energy to be with her, but I always see it as an opportunity to provide a listening ear and to give some words of comfort, if I can. As she was speaking, I remember praying – as I often do – for the guidance/inspiration to know what to say in response and what I can do to “fix” the situation. The feeling that I got in my heart was this, “you don’t need to say anything, just be here.”

Something inside of me became calm and clear. I suddenly felt a great release. I believe it was the feeling of being relieved of a burden. In this case, the burden I felt was that I needed to have the right words or advice in order to make Regina feel better, as in, to fix the situation. I know that my desire to help her is absolutely sincere, which somehow also increases the burden of needing to know what to say in order to help. But when I received the message that I just needed to focus on being there and not worry about what I could say, I felt that burden lift.

I stood next to her bed and reached out and held her hand. And I just listened. She shared how lonely she felt in her trying circumstances, and that she had never said that aloud to anyone and how scary it was to even say it out loud. I continued to listen. I grabbed a tissue and wiped her tears away when she couldn’t hold them back. And I was just there, not trying to fix anything, but just being there. She point blank asked me how much time she had left on this earth. I told her that I couldn’t answer that, but that if she was still here, there’s a reason and that she is not forgotten and that all of her trials, troubles, and fears are known by the Savior who loves her deeply and would compensate for every pain and for every loss, if not in this life, then in the life to come.

She didn’t say much more after that, but did say thank you, and I left.

It struck me profoundly while she was talking to me that she didn’t really need me to fix anything for her. What she needed, more than anything, was just for someone to be there and to listen. I was humbled and grateful for the inspiration to do just that.

When I walked away, I reflected on how many times in my life would I have loved someone to just be there for me in that same way – not to fix anything, but just to let me talk and just to be there. The answer is – often. I would have OFTEN loved just to have someone there to talk to and not try to fix anything, but to just listen and just be there for me. Certainly, there have been times in my life when someone was there for me, and I don’t mean to minimize that. I think it’s just that, however often it did happen, I still would have wanted that more. Maybe that’s just me being selfish. I am deeply grateful for those who have been there for me when I needed someone to talk to.

But for so much of my life, my experience was that people were always trying to fix things. If I came to them with a problem it was just an immediate laundry list of what I needed to do to fix the situation and then just move on. I didn’t know how to say that that isn’t what I really wanted. I didn’t want an immediate fix. Most of the time, I didn’t really need advice anyway. I think I just wanted someone to listen to me and I just wanted to know that someone was there for me.

Sometimes it’s hard to remember that because my job is all about “fixing” things. It’s literally my job to rehab people on their cognition, and speech, and swallowing, and whatever. My job is to “fix their problem” and help them be as independent and safe and they can. I also think this can be tough because the desire to fix things is healthy! It’s a reflection of the care and concern that we have for each other; if you come to me with a problem, I want to help you fix it because I care about you and I want you to be happy. But even though the desire to help, i.e., by fixing things, is good, it shouldn’t be underestimated how powerful the desire to help by NOT fixing things – and just being there – can be.

I guess this post is kind of supplement to a previous post about finding value even while broken. Maybe this is just a continuation of that idea. Not only can we have value while being broken, but sometimes there can be great healing in not trying to fix anything.

Maybe this is also an invitation for all of us – myself included. The next time someone comes to you with a problem, maybe you could ask yourself, “does this person really need me to fix anything, or do they just need someone to listen to them and just be there?” Paradoxically, maybe people trying to fix me all the time is what taught me that I was a problem…

What would it be like if we could be a world of just being there for each other, instead of always feeling like we have to fix each other? I think we would find a lot of beauty in not needing to fix everything – and just being there – just like I did with Regina.

 

Photo by Dương Hữu on Unsplash

Broken Value

 

I was speaking with someone recently who, at one point in our conversation, just flat out asked me, “do you feel that you have worth the way you are right now?”

My answer was, “no.” I said it easily, with no hesitation; almost nonchalantly, even. Me? Have worth? Of course not? I thought it went without saying…

I have been thinking a lot about why that answer came so easily to me, virtually automatically. My first thought was, “well, just look at me! I’m fat and overweight! Being fat and overweight makes you worth less, i.e., “worthless,” than thin/skinny people because fat is ugly; in other words, being fat means being ugly and no one wants to be either (we all know it, even if we don’t have the courage to admit it!).

I’ve held these beliefs about being fat and worthless my whole life, it would seem. And on the surface, that would be enough to explain why I have felt worthless my whole life, because I’ve been fat my whole life.

But that’s just the surface. Something else has been there my whole life too, but deep; much, much deeper than even I was able to see. It was a feeling, a belief, a profound knowledge that has evaded being known or seen. It’s like an indescribable leviathan, living so deep in the ocean that it’s never been seen, but every so often, evidenced of its existence emerges. It remains unseen, but deeply sensed. And it is just always there. Relentless, tireless, watchful and aware of all that goes on above it. It never sleeps. It never stops. This thing that is powerful enough to move the currents of my life, my behaviors and actions, and yet, stealthy enough to remain “unknown.”

It’s a treacherous journey to dive so deep, but dive I must. This is my journey, to know myself, to know who I am, and what moves me, to know what makes me the way I am. To know what makes me such a problem.

And there it was – the thing that didn’t want to be seen or known, but that I had to enter the dark places of my mind and heart to find. 

I am a problem.

Not just that I have problems, but that I AM a problem. In my mind there is no difference between having problems and being a problem – it is one and the same: If I have a problem, then I AM a problem.

“But why?” I continued to ask myself. My logical brain knows that having a problem and being a problem are not the same thing. “Then why do I see myself as such a problem?”

The answer is equally simple, yet as deeply profound: “Because I am broken.”

It’s hard for me to move past that sentence. It’s hard because it’s true. I believe I am broken. My heart has been broken, my spirit has been broken, my body has been broken, even my mind, in many ways, has been broken. It is a fact that I almost died at birth (asphyxiation in the womb). It’s a fact that I was molested. It is a fact that I felt neglected, judged, and criticized at a very young age. It is a fact that I gained weight, which resulted in being teased, hazed, rejected, ignored, and minimized – for years. I was traumatized in so many ways and those multiple, repeated traumas broke me.

I have felt broken from birth. Everything in my life that happened after, seemed to confirm that I was broken and that I didn’t deserve to be any other way.

You know what else is a fact? That when something in this world is broken, it becomes worthless. We throw it away, because when something is broken it is no longer useful and no longer has value.

The equation I have in my mind is that all the things I am – such as a problem, broken, fat/ugly, etc., equals being worthless.

It’s why I could answer that question so easily and so quickly. 

And it’s why I have such a hard time changing. I tend to resist change because I haven’t found a reason or an argument that is stronger than “broken = worthless.”

I tend to self-sabotage, whether relationships, diet/exercise plans, work, etc. because deep down, I never feel like I’m worth it.

As an example, here’s a loop I often find myself caught in: I want to lose weight in order to feel like I have worth (i.e., when I lose weight, then I’ll be worth something), so I embark on a fat loss/fitness journey, only to very quickly derail my efforts, because as soon as dieting/exercise gets hard (and it’s always hard!), then I give up, or sabotage my effort, because – deep down – I’m not worth it anyway. But then I desperately want to have worth, so I desperately want to lose weight and the cycle continues. 

I get angry when I see how easy health and fitness is for some people. I get angry that they can diet down for a few weeks and look great. I get angry that there are men who are already genetically prone to good health and fitness and pursue that lifestyle, then get on Instagram and give advice, like, “hey, you just gotta eat less and move more and if I can you do it, so can you,” when they’re clearly genetically gifted, and/or already prone to being healthy and active. As my last trainer kept telling me, “it’s just a choice you decide to make.” I hate how simple that makes it sound. I hate it because he’s not wrong, but there are so many other factors, the biggest one being, “do you think you’re worth it?”

Even when some of my previous trainers have been supportive and said, “I believe in you,” I still sabotaged the diet or exercise plan they gave me as a way of saying, “see, I told you I was broken and that you couldn’t help me.” Doing that helps me live in the safety of being right, but also keeps me in the misery of being broken. They all make it sound so easy, or so simple, because it seems to be that way for them. 

And that’s what really gets my goat! These “fitness gurus” all seem to have an inherent sense of their self-worth. They don’t doubt themselves. They don’t stay awake at night wondering if they’re worth it. They seem to be born with confidence. They seem to be born just knowing that they have worth, and yes, that makes me angry. It makes me angry that I’m not like them. It makes me angry that they are allowed to have confidence in themselves because they’ve never had anything happen to them that made them feel small, weak, …or broken. I hate that they aren’t broken, but that I am.

Dieting, health, fitness, relationships, etc., are all so much harder when you feel worthless.

All of which, brings me to the million dollar question: “Can that be changed?”

On second thought, maybe that’s not the million dollar question, because for most of my life, the answer has been a resounding “no!”

I guess the question I need to ask myself here is, “can something that is broken also still have worth?”

It might be true that in this world we devalue things that are broken. We esteem them as worthless and only good for being tossed out. But while this rule may hold true for “things,” maybe there is a different rule for people, because people are not things.

It seems to be quite a paradox to me – to live in a world that is in a constant state of change and decay – entropy, we call it. And yet, this constantly breaking down world is full of people who are full of worth, no matter how much they break down.

I do believe we are eternal beings. I do believe we are the spirit children of God, and maybe, as a child of God, I just need to embrace the paradox that people are full of worth, no matter how they are broken. Maybe it’s why the scripture in Doctrine and Covenants [D&C 18:10] says, “the worth of souls is great in the sight of God,” and not, “the worth of things…”.

Other paradoxes might be – yes, I have a body, but my body is not ALL of who I am; yes, I’m fat, but being fat is not ALL of who I am – it may be a condition I’m in, but it’s not WHO I AM; yes, I have problems, but that doesn’t mean that I AM a problem, because my problems are not who I am; yes, I have been broken – repeatedly, but being broken is what’s happened TO ME, it’s not WHO I AM. 

Maybe the hardest paradox to accept is: I can be broken and still have value.

Can I accept that? I think so.

I think about all the people I’ve known, especially those who “have been through what I’ve been through,” and I ask myself, “do I see them as having less value because they are broken?” Truthfully, I do not! In fact, maybe even the opposite. I see those people as having a great deal of value because they are broken. To my way of thinking they are people who need even more love and compassion and friendship and I would never deny them that simply because they are broken. The real question is, can I see myself that way? Can I offer myself that same compassion? Can I see myself as someone who is broken, and yet, still full of worth?

I think have to.

I mean, I think that is the challenge for me – now that I have had this realization, what will I do with it? Okay, maybe this inherent sense of self-worth is not something I was born with (or maybe I was and life beat it out of me!), BUT that doesn’t mean it can’t be learned, right?

There’s another paradox about this world we live in: that even despite the inevitable entropy, this life was meant for growth. And growth can only come from resistance. Maybe I don’t automatically think that I have worth, but I can practice resisting that thought and practice growing new thoughts where I DO have worth, even with having been broken. It seems like that process is really what this world was meant for – to use resistance to grow.

And maybe, just maybe, instead of despairing over how broken I am, for the first time in my life I can feel grateful for being broken, because, in yet another paradoxical way, being broken is how I’ll find my value.

Happiness

It's been a little over a month since I've been participating in the Precision Nutrition Lean Eating program. It's been an interesting month. I signed up for the program to get some help losing weight (yay! I can finally admit it now!!), but already, what I've gotten is so much more.

The program has really challenged me to look at my habits/lifestyle and question it. Is it healthy? Yes or no. If not, why not and what can I do to change it? It's not just dealing with mechanics of losing weight, it's dealing with me - as a person - and getting (cutting!) to the core of what I believe and why I do what I do. It's not psychotherapy by any means, but some of the insights I've gained have felt like coming out of an intense therapy session. I like that it's focus is on behaviors, as well. Maybe you can't change someone's attitudes, but you can ask them to behave differently and see what happens. That's what this program does.

I have a coach I can contact if I'm having doubts, concerns, or questions, or just not sure how to complete assignments, etc. And he's been really great at getting to the core of what my concerns are and knowing what to suggest to help me along. One (of the many) things he's done for me is to help me understand the nature of happiness a little better. I've often been annoyed stymied by people who say, "happiness is a choice, if you want to be happy, just choose to be happy." Hmmm.... Okay, well, it's not bad advice, nor do I think it's wrong, but for me the question is, if it's just that easy, wouldn't I have done that by now?

My coach had this to say: "Happiness is a tricky one. It's not that we can just sit in a chair, want to become happy, and be happy. Happiness is a side effect that comes and goes in life. It's not something that can be pursued, rather, it ensues based on how we are living."

Related to that, he said that happiness can increase... "When you live according to what you value. If you value your body and health, and you exhibit behaviors that follow suit, that can build self-worth [happiness]."

I think I wasted a lot of time pursuing happiness instead of pursuing a life that generates happiness. I think I just had the wrong priorities because I had the wrong idea about what would bring me happiness. Consequently, true happines has eluded me for most of my life. I still have a way to go on changing my habits and living according to what I value, but at least I feel that I'm on the right track now and that happiness is attainable.