TRANSCRIPT
What do you do when life throws you a curveball? When everything seems to be going well, and then something unexpected happens that knocks you off your track? This is the way of life. I’ve never actually sat in this chair and recorded here before. I prepared my whole morning mentally, getting ready to make videos. I went outside to my usual recording spot, and just two or three minutes into the video, it started pouring rain. Suddenly, I was soaked. I had to run inside with my big, heavy chair and the camera, trying to shield it from the rain. In that moment, I realized I could try to film here instead. Sure, there were people around who could hear me talking, and I might have to speak a little quieter, but I thought, “I got thrown a curveball.” It wasn’t what I expected or prepared for. Of course, it’s a minor inconvenience compared to the significant challenges many face in life—people losing their businesses, jobs, or struggling to afford food. My situation doesn’t even compare to those hardships.
Life is full of metaphors that provide windows into understanding others’ experiences. I have a long history of being thrown off my track—being rejected, having the world change around me. I remember when my parents announced we were moving, forcing me to leave all my friends behind and start over. There were times in school when a kid decided he didn’t like me, and suddenly, everyone sided with him. I experienced the pain of having a teacher who disliked me after having one the previous year who nurtured and cared for me. I’ve been in lovely relationships that ended, leaving me to deal with loneliness.
What I’m getting at is the value of being flexible and rolling with life’s punches. I’ve seen people become brittle and rigid, believing that life should move out of their way. They live for comfort, sometimes padding themselves into such a bubble that when something unexpected happens, they are unprepared. This rigidity can happen to countries as well. Often, it occurs when people become too strong or too confident, believing nothing can break or change them. They feel they have control and power.
I think of a psychiatrist I once interviewed, who was the head of a significant psychoanalytic training institution. He was a respected figure, someone people listened to. However, when I met him, he was older and starting to show signs of Alzheimer’s. He couldn’t think straight, and despite his confidence, there was a part of him that knew something was wrong. He struggled to keep his train of thought and fumbled over important concepts. It broke my heart to interview him. I wish I could have turned off the camera and just talked about his life, but I suspect he wouldn’t have opened up. He was once the god of his universe, but now he found himself on the wrong side of it.
This brings me to the concept of flexibility training. For me, it’s about remaining humble and keeping the blood flowing to all areas of my life. It’s about getting up when I fall down and doing things that keep me living outside of my comfort zone. This isn’t just for the sake of discomfort; it’s where interesting things happen. I’ve observed that people who live primarily for comfort often become boring and unmotivated. They pull away from life, living in a bubble focused solely on their private concerns. They may have children, but often they don’t care about the outside world, expressing indifference toward the challenges their children might face in the future.
When life throws them off track—perhaps losing a job or facing a health crisis—they often struggle to recover. This highlights the importance of getting out into the world and being flexible, living in sync with life’s ups and downs. The most crucial aspect is to keep growing and discovering who I am on the inside, even when it’s complicated and not always pretty. The more I engage in this process, the stronger I become. I realize that I will survive; I have survived some unpleasant experiences.
In observing my peers, I’ve noticed that those who fail to connect with their true selves often push that self away. They may live a fake life, disconnected from their inner truth. Conversely, those who connect with their true selves can weather life’s difficulties more effectively. I’ve seen some people struggle to get back up after being knocked down, and I believe part of my role as a therapist is to reach out to those who have lost their flexibility. Sometimes, my hand—metaphorically speaking—can help pull them up. It may not be a literal hand, but rather an ear, a caring soul, or a heart willing to lend some of my surplus flexibility and self-love to someone open to learning new lessons about the value of flexibility.