Survival

Yesterday, while awaiting the impending tropical storm Irene, I began rereading a book called Deep Survival: Who Lives, Who Dies, and Why. It is a fascinating and well-written book by journalist and author Laurence Gonzales, which compellingly combines neuroscience with stories of people of every stripe embroiled in great battles for survival. As the title suggests, the book explores what it takes to survive such challenges as being lost at sea or in the wilderness, natural disasters, and accidents- who lives, who dies, and what decides it? I won't reveal too much of Gonzales' findings here, for I highly recommend reading this book and think it makes much more interesting reading if you approach it with curiosity and innocence. I do, however, want to touch a bit on what reading Deep Survival is bringing up in me, for while it largely relates to surviving extraordinary, life-or-death experiences, the same mechanisms seem to allow us to get through the challenges of life intact, and to enjoy a long and fulfilling life.

We are constantly confronted with experiences and environments that don't match the images our minds are projecting onto them, that defy our "mental map" and the resulting expectations associated with it. We are challenged to adapt to the realities at hand (a changing environment, an evolving concept, shifting perspectives) in the face of our disappointment or fear and sometimes this can be a difficult thing to accomplish. This applies not only to physical challenges but to emotional or mental ones as well. What allows "elite performers" to survive high-intensity challenges is the same thing that allows we regular folk to survive the heartbreak of loss or the disappointment of failure, or to successfully transition into new environments. Adaptation. When we fail to adapt to the realities of life, we bring unnecessary harm and pain upon ourselves and we challenge our very survival.  

I am embarking on a new life path and I am scared. Elite performers and survivors aren't devoid of fear, in fact they allow a healthy dose of fear to simultaneously sober and motivate them as they take gigantic risks. I find that I am almost overwhelmed with anxiety when I pull back and look at the enormity of the task I am about to undertake: two years of full-time school while co-parenting a young teen and working at the family business, all the while attempting to maintain a web of intimate relationships. I have seen others take on similar challenges and watched as they depleted themselves of every resource. I wonder, "Who do I think I am to believe I can do it any more smoothly, or even do it at all?" Mostly, I just wonder how the hell I'm going to find that much energy to perform to my own high standards on every front. I think that the answer is, "I'm not." Something's got to give. I'm in transition and life isn't what it was just a week ago, nor is it how it's going to be next week. I have to be in the present to attend to the decisions and take the necessary actions which will allow me to begin school next week. If I go too far out, get too far ahead of myself, my confidence gets shaky and I am enveloped in anxiety. 

What reading Deep Survival has done for me is to illuminate something very basic: survivors adapt. They don't hold tight to a fixed mental image of a situation while the reality stares them in the face. They get with the reality at hand and take action to survive within it, attending to small tasks which will keep them alive (like a shipwreck survivor spending an entire day catching and eating a fish while floating on the open sea) without allowing themselves to be overwhelmed by the enormity of the situation they are facing. If I can keep my mind focused on what needs my attention in any given moment and not be overly concerned with the complex set of demands I am facing, I have at a shot at not only surviving this transition but thriving within it. It's just one moment, one day, one task at a time. 

I'm a survivor.