Through His Eyes

Hard Things and Why They Bring Us Happiness

Many if not all of us have heard the famous English expression: “When the going gets tough, the tough get going,” And if we haven’t heard that, then for sure we have been told to “Suck it up, baby!” a time or two. Life for sure can throw us a curve ball. And just like that expression suggests, the curve ball can comes when we least expect. To me, that is what makes the hard things in life, well, just plain hard. But, those hard things are just the things we need to bring us joy.

Exactly five years ago I was in the worst physical pain I have ever been in.  I ruptured a disk in my back and the fluid was pressing on my spinal cord. Later, just before I had surgery, I found out I was headed toward paralysis. Over the course of a few months, the pain became worse. My back would go into muscle spasms and I literally didn’t know what to do with my body.  No matter how I turned or moved the pain would not go away.  Nighttime became the dreaded part of my day.  The pain seemed ten times worse. Plus, the darkness seemed to mock me as if to say, “You didn’t want sleep anyway.” Needless to say, life was throwing me a curve ball that I desperately wanted no part of.

Was this experience hard for me? Absolutely yes! I honestly didn’t know how much longer I could endure the pain, both physically and emotionally. But the thing is, I didn’t give up.  I kept searching for ways to fix my problem. The happiness I felt when I woke up from surgery and felt no pain is beyond words. I was blessed and learned a few things that would help me in the future. About two weeks ago my dog Simon was having some back pain. (They say the dog and the owner are similar….he he he ) That night, I was reading in bed and my other dog, Jack, was adjusting and kicked Simon.  I heard a yelp. In the middle of the night I woke up to find my poor Simon paralyzed. This horrific experience happened on top of other stressful events I am currently battling. With this new trauma, I didn’t know if I could handle anymore. But, because of my own experience with back problems, I was equipped to make some tough decisions for my dog… all in faith.

I’m sure we have all had a similar experiences where we didn’t know if we could last one more minute enduring a difficult situation or we didn’t know if we could handle adding one more thing to our plate. We are taken to the breaking point. When we get to this point we have two choices: we can push just a little bit harder or we can allow ourselves to break. It is a choice.

My marching band instructor in high school would always tell us to reach deep down inside and give just a little bit more.  I didn’t realize how much that would prepare me for life in more ways than one. (Thanks Mr. Wayman!) I have found that the place where you reach down and give just a tiny bit more (because most of the time that is all we have left) is the place happiness emerges.

In a marathon, runners come to a point where they have to reach down and find, then use, any extra gumption they might have.  I found this out when I ran the 2010 marathon in Los Angeles, California. In the race, it was all me. Sure, I had my brother, sister, and mother to cheer me on. But it was me who had to move my legs. Most people when they enter a marathon have one goal: to finish. They know they will not be the first to cross the finish line or even be the superstar. They just want to show themselves that they could do something hard. That was my goal.  I started out so excited. With each passing mile, I increasingly became more and more tired. But isn’t that how it is with most challenges we take on? At first we have all the faith in the world.  We believe we can do it… that is until we get tired. This is when we make a critical choice: either quit or finish. By the time I hit mile 22, I was done.  I had nothing left in me, or so I thought.  I wanted to sit and never get back up. In fact, I wanted someone else to pick me up and take me home. But for some reason, I kept going.

The process of a marathon is often compared to the process of life. T. Allen Armstrong said, “Champions do not become champions when they win the event, but in the hours, weeks, months and years they spent preparing for it.”  Just like a marathon, life is work. In fact, we are supposed to work. This work is preparation for becoming greater than we could ever imagine. Also, the work we do now prepares us to fight even tougher battles ahead. Because of my personal experience with back issues and the complications that come with it, I was able to take care of my poor puppy (he is my world). You see, it is one thing to take care of yourself but you become a far greater person when you take care of someone else. You are putting them before yourself. This doesn’t come naturally to people. We usually have to experience the hard to learn it. The true and pure joy comes in taking care of, or serving, another.

It is an interesting concept to think that to find joy we must experience pain. This concept, opposition in all things, is an absolute truth that creates diversity, choice, and progression. Without bad there wouldn’t be good.  Without pain there wouldn’t be joy. Without hate there wouldn’t be love. Without hard there wouldn’t be easy. Both sides of the opposition has a purpose. And because of opposition, more choices are created. And more learning is possible.

Think of opposition as a pendulum that swings back and forth. Each side of the pendulum is each opposite. The further the pendulum swings on one side the further it will swing on the other. This creates greater capacity.  Our growth broadens and we become capable of deeper feeling and more doing. Just as a marathon runner digs down and pushes a little bit hard, he becomes stronger from the pain. And thus, the running eventually becomes easier. When it comes to hard things, the more we have to figure out and endure, the better we will be when it comes to that really hard thing down the road. The more pain we experience, the more we will be capable of deep love towards others- that is if we choose to not let that pain destroy us.

The joy I felt when I crossed the finish line is indescribable. I worked so hard to train for my 26.2 mile journey. And I learned that I can do hard things. Following my marathon there were a couple experiences in my life that have been some of the hardest things I have had to face. They hit me to the core. These “hard things” have made me step back and examine what life is all about. I have and am still gaining a new view on the grand skein of what really is important. One of my relatives, Neal A. Maxwell, was diagnosed with Leukemia in his later years. He said he often wondered why he had to face such a difficult trial in his life.  Surly cancer cannot lead to happiness. And yet, being the wonderful person Neal Maxwell was, he proved that it can. He said that he knew he had to experience leukemia so that he could empathetically teach people. You see, there was a reason for his leukemia. An important reason. There was a lot of hard work and pain involved but the purpose would bring comfort to others and to him as he served. His comfort would come in perspective of the eternities. He said, “Such glimpses of eternity can help us travel the next 100 yards, which may be very difficult.” Our purposes are bigger than this life alone. There is eternity to consider. And the eternities is where most of our joy will be found if we do the “hard things” now.

So, does that mean we are only meant to suffer through the hard things just so we can get to the joys later? Absolutely not. Joy comes in the journey.  It comes in our attitude and faith.  It comes with love towards others and ourselves. It comes in doing good to others and being kind to ourselves. We are meant to have joy in every minute of every day. 

The hard things in life are meant to give us experience. Just like in the purpose of opposition, we need to feel the pain so we can feel the joy. Those hard things are what make us in to amazing people, if we let them. Learn from experiences. It will benefit your future and your happiness. Simon taught me some amazing things through this trail he is facing. He keeps a positive attitude, knows what he can handle, and is not afraid to ask for help. He tries hard each day to recover and has fun in the meantime (he loves to bark outside, chew his squeak toy, and snuggle in blankets). Most of all, he shows me love everyday. He forgets about himself and is kind to those who matter most to him. Is this trial hard for Simon? I’m positive it is. But, he is finding joy in his journey. And to him, that’s what makes him truly happy.