nathalie shushan

reposted from February 2019

As someone who has been fortunate enough to come out of a traumatic experience and feel so tremendously whole, I can attest to the fact that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel – but I also learned that there are ways to flood even the darkest tunnel with light while you’re in it.

On my absolute worst day after the accident, for example, I was sitting with my friend Melissa and, at the peak of my suffering, through tears, I asked her if she wouldn’t mind listening to my list of complaints.  I knew I didn’t want to dwell on them but I inexplicably felt compelled to say them aloud.  So I did: I had spent two weeks listening to people promise me that things would get better but they just kept getting worse.  The wound from my shoulder surgery was infected and the medicine I was taking wasn’t helping.  I had been in the emergency room the night before because of stomach complications. I hadn’t slept in days. I hated taking pain meds. I could barely get myself off of the couch to open the door for visitors. I was still in excruciating pain.  Melissa patiently listened as I described my troubles. Together, she and I acknowledged them.

Then, suddenly, there was a quiet but unwavering voice in my head reminding me that I also needed to take a moment to express my gratitude (and I genuinely was was full of it). So I asked if she could listen to the list of things that I was grateful for.  Out loud, I reminded myself that, first and foremost, I was grateful that the damage from the accident wasn’t worse. I was conscious. I could walk and talk. The pain i was experiencing was a forceful reminder that I was still alive, and that in itself is an incredible thing. I was grateful that my parents were there to take care of me, grateful that my friends had all been so loving. I thanked Melissa for being such a supportive friend, and huge source of my strength.  The list went on and on. It dramatically outweighed my list of complaints, which was a complete revelation for me in a moment where everything genuinely felt like an impossible struggle.

I have always innately understood the importance of gratitude.  Through the ordeal, i kept a list of everyone who came to visit, sent flowers, called to see if i was okay.  I had a list of all of the doctors that were kind to me.  I systematically wrote down everything and anything that made me feel even the slightest bit better. I realize now, though, that it’s easy to be grateful when things are going well. Gratitude in the face of a sunset is beautiful but it is not necessarily difficult. I learned that you have to really work to find a light in the darkness – and that work is what gives you the power to shift your perspective.

I woke up that morning showing no signs of recovery but, by the evening, I felt better than I had since the moment of impact. Aside from the fact that I felt like an emotional weight had been lifted, I was finally beginning to see actual signs of physical healing. The infection in my wound started to dissipate and all of the stomach problems I had been having went away. It seemed miraculous in the moment but, retrospectively, I truly believe my verbal shift in perspective to be the tangible reason that my healing process (both physically and emotionally) finally began. It feels too easy to call it a coincidence. And, ever since that day, progress has been rapid.