Night Bloomers. Michelle Pearce

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СКАЧАТЬ let me tell you a story about someone who chose to bloom in the dark. Nelson Mandela (1918–2013) has been described as a protester, a prisoner, a president, and a peacemaker. I would add to that list a Night Bloomer. Mandela, who grew up in a small village called Transkei in South Africa, knew what it was like to suffer. He knew what it was like to lose things that were important to him. He lost his eldest son, his two grandchildren, his freedom, and his ability to control his life. He lost twenty-seven years with his wife and family while he sat in a dark prison cell.

      Mandela had a strong sense of justice. He fought against racial oppression. To many he was a saint and a hero, but Mandela wasn’t always this way. In the 1950s, he was number one on South Africa’s terrorist list, as the founder of a military wing of the African National Congress. Although he fought for human rights, originally there were groups of people he did not want to include in this fight, such as Indians.

      Listen to how Richard Stengel, who collaborated with Mandela on his autobiography, Long Walk to Freedom, describes how prison changed Mandela:

      “The man who went into prison in 1962 was hotheaded and easily stung. The man who walked out into the sunshine of the mall in Cape Town twenty-seven years later was measured, even serene … I asked him many times during our weeks and months of conversations what was different about the man who came out of prison compared to the man who went in, he finally sighed and then said simply, ‘I came out mature.’”

      Prison was where Nelson Mandela bloomed in the dark. We remember Mandela not as the man before prison, or the man in prison, but as the man he was after he emerged from prison. He prevented a devastating racial civil war and created a democratic South Africa. His life had an astounding impact on human tolerance and freedom, not only in South Africa, but all around the world. The first president of a democratic South Africa, champion of the anti-apartheid fight, bestower of dignity to the poor, and Nobel Peace Prize laureate had bloomed in the dark. The hard work of these achievements was done while he sat in that dark, lonely prison cell for twenty-seven years, refusing to allow the suffering and injustice to destroy him.

      Mandela could not have negotiated peace as an angry man. The personal transformation he went through in prison allowed him to complete the mission ahead of him. He needed the softening that comes from choosing over and over again to extend grace and forgiveness to your oppressors. In his fight for human justice, he had to be strong, but not revengeful; courageous, but not cocky. He had to forgive, but not compromise. These are the lessons he learned in prison. These are the blossoms that required the dark to grow and mature. The world will forever be a better place because Mandela chose to bloom.

       An Everyday Night Bloomer

      Ok, so we’re not all going to be Nelson Mandelas. Let me share with you another real-life example, lest you think this paradigm shift is only for a highly select few. This story is about my friend and colleague, Jenny Owens, who did something remarkable after she and her husband nearly lost their newborn son. I’ll let Jenny tell the story in her own words:

      “In April of 2016, my husband and I were thrilled to welcome our son Maximus Owens to the world. Within hours of his birth, Max was diagnosed with a rare condition called congenital diaphragmatic hernia. His diaphragm was not fully formed at birth, allowing his bowels to move into his chest cavity, displacing his heart and crushing and impacting the development of his left lung. The doctors gave Max a 50 percent chance of survival and it was a very rough start the first few months as Max and physicians fought for his life. He spent several weeks in the NICU and more time in the children’s hospital as he underwent several surgeries.

      “When we were staying at the hospital for one of Max’s surgeries, I ran into a grandmother of an infant patient in the family lounge. We chatted for a while, and during our conversation she shared that she was visiting for two weeks and staying at a hotel. Her son and daughter were living in a tiny hospital room at the Children’s Hospital until either the Children’s House or Ronald McDonald House had an open room. They were from Tennessee and had traveled all the way to Baltimore for specialists that could care for their baby’s rare condition. They would be there for months while their tiny baby had multiple surgeries.

      “Right then I realized how incredibly lucky we were to be in Baltimore and so close to such amazing hospitals. Had we lived in a more rural area, Max may not have had access to the critical treatment he needed for survival, especially since we weren’t aware of his life-threatening condition before birth. When we were in the NICU we could get home in ten minutes, but many families traveled hours to be there each day and stayed months longer than we did. I thought about it all night and most of our stay. And I wondered—what if people living nearby hospitals could volunteer rooms in their homes to people traveling with loved ones for care?”

      In 2016, Jenny started a nonprofit organization in Baltimore, Maryland, called Hosts for Humanity. The organization matches volunteer hosts with patient families seeking a place to stay while their loved ones receive care. Family and friends of patients now have a low-cost and supportive place to stay while their loved one is in the hospital.

      I spoke with Jenny again recently about the idea of blooming in the dark and here’s what she said:

      “Reflecting over the last couple of years, I’ve experienced periods of both extreme highs and crushing lows. I felt lowest when Max’s first surgery failed a few weeks after his birth. When the surgery team rolled him into the room and triumphantly declared a successful repair, I didn’t feel their elation. I felt despair. I didn’t see a newborn that had been “successfully repaired,” but instead one that was hopped up on fentanyl, puffy, and nonresponsive. I wanted to lie on the floor, for no other reason than my body seemed to want to reflect my emotional state. Fast forward almost two years, and Max is now a thriving and resilient toddler. We feel tremendous gratitude for his health, and for an amazing support network that took care of us when we were down. And although pain in all its forms is a state I don’t want to be in for long, I’ve come to appreciate it for facilitating a journey of tremendous personal growth.

      “Some pain is unavoidable, systemic, or just bad luck—perhaps a car accident, an illness. Some pain you play a part in, by neglecting your health, finances, relationships, etc. I try to see pain as a sophisticated alert system identifying a credible threat. Pain told me to “pay attention!” loudly and forcefully. So I did. After I witnessed the need for housing I could no longer do nothing. This suffering showed me the hidden pain of others, and radically altered the path of my life.”

      Jenny could have spent the year after her son was born simply cherishing her time with him and her husband (and I know she did a lot of that). She could have gotten stuck in her trauma and fear and anger. But through hard work, determination, and the love and support of others, Jenny took her pain and fear and turned it into something incredible, an organization that helps others who are experiencing similar pain and fear. Jenny said she never would have thought of doing something like this until she experienced this kind of suffering. She wouldn’t have seen the need, wouldn’t have felt the same pull on her heart. The world is a better place because Jenny experienced this pain and allowed herself to use it to help others. She’s an inspiration. She’s a Night Bloomer.

       A Change in Perspective Changes Everything

      My hope is that this metaphor—flowers and people who require the dark to bloom—has begun to shift your perspective from one of loss and despair to one of growth and hope. Because once you change your perspective, you can begin to use your own inner resources and creativity to begin moving in this new life-affirming direction.

      Let me just pause to clear something up before we build on the new perspective and guiding metaphor of the book: Blooming in the dark is not about whether what got you into the dark—perhaps the death of a loved one, divorce, illness, abuse, loss of physical functioning, a fractured СКАЧАТЬ