Learning to meet the unexpected, from the rocky steps in Sifnos

I recently travelled to Greece to study another approach to working with the brain. After my class, I went on retreat to the tiny island of Sifnos where I had a rented a beautiful little apartment perched over the sea. It was about a half mile from a teeny village, just two small family restaurants and a little beach.

To get a meal or buy a bottle of water, I walked on a path next to the sea that wasn't so much cut into the rock but more worked with the rock by taking lots of twists and turns and occasionally adding a bit of rough concrete. It was a series of steps built by different families at different times and loosely connected as it was used over years.

I was amazed and a bit worried that my host had directed me here and thought I must have misinterpreted her directions or that she had forgotten that I was nearly 60 and recovering from a sprained ankle. I decided to trust and proceed very carefully.

Many times, I was certain I’d lost my way as I stood on a cliff edge looking down at the sea. But the views were stunning and I wasn’t in a hurry so I’d take a few breaths and look carefully all around me. And each time, as my eyes adjusted and I managed my expectations, I’d locate another segment of rough, rocky steps in a place I never would have expected.

Here, a 90° turn that takes me up and away from where I’m heading and drops me right at the entrance to a home where an old man is cooking. He smiles and points straight down towards what appears to be another straight drop off a cliff and into the sea. I smile and tentatively follow his cue. Only as I arrive at the edge do I find more steps. Another 90 degree turn heading me sharply downward and back towards my goal.

My brain is chattering away somewhere in the background, “why am I going up instead of down? Now I'm going up and to the left? It doesn't seem like a path at all!  But there's a little bit ahead that seems like it might be intentional…”.

And there would be another set of steps, and another, and another until I found myself on the beach, grinning from ear to ear. It was beautiful and delightful and inspiring and I enjoyed every step as I felt my injured ankle letting me know that it was feeling surer and stronger each time I walked the path.

My take away is that it is worth considering how we respond to the unexpected.

How often do we think that there's no path forward or that it's certainly impossible to move ahead?

What if we could pause and take a few breaths and look around?

What if we could keep on breathing through the feelings and the mental chatter until something settled and our perspective changed, even just a little bit?

You can do this.

If anyone had ever told me that I would be grateful to have the gene that can cause ALS, I would have said they were completely crazy. If anyone had told me that I would eventually feel genuine love and compassion for the father who sexually abused me and strangled me until I passed out when I was 8 years old and for the mother who didn’t protect me, I would have angrily dismissed them.

But looking at where I am now in my life: at the two beautiful young men I am honored to call my sons, at the places I've travelled, the things I've learned and the incredibly gratifying work that I do, I am so grateful for everything that has contributed to who I have become. And I can sincerely say to all the parts of me that experienced those traumas “It was messy and hard and I wouldn't agree with all the things you did and the choices you made (not by a long shot) but I'm so so very grateful that you kept going because now I'm here today.”

Please know that there is a way forward even when it seems like there isn't and everything feels dark. That way forward may just be breathing into how hard everything is right now and how impossible everything looks.

Please know that there is something to learn from everything.

Please know that there are people who can help you, if only to hear you and acknowledge how messed up it all feels.

Please know that there are people who have it worse than you do now. And that there are people who have it better, who once felt as lost as you do now.

Please know that things can change.