Finding the silver linings

There’s an old song that ends with the words, ‘So always look for the silver lining, And try to find the sunny side of life.’ (written by Bud De Silva and Jerome Kern, first published 1920). But can there be any silver lining to chronic illness like MS?

You don’t need me to list all my own reasons for saying that having MS makes my life tougher than it needs to be. Fatigue, pain, clumsiness, incontinence, altered sensation, etc, etc. The list goes on and on, and everyone will have their personal list. A few years ago, I was introduced to the idea of applying a different filter to how I view my illness. Was it possible, I was asked, that there might be some unseen gains, some gifts of illness, as well as all the losses?

I thought about this for a long time – it’s a difficult idea to get your head round. Eventually, though, I began to understand how it might help me navigate my way through the tangles and fogs of MS.

Diagnosis helped me understand what was going on

The most obvious gain was that in finally being given a diagnosis, I arrived at a better understanding of what was happening to me. After years of vague symptoms that came and went, and sometimes feeling dismissed by health professionals, I had an actual diagnosis. It wasn’t stress or anxiety or, ‘well, you have a very busy life’ or ‘we all get tired, you know’, - it was MS.

My struggles with symptoms had often led me to feel inadequate, less capable than others at work and outside work. Now I had an understandable, communicable reason for the problems I experienced. It was reassuring to learn that the coping strategies I’d developed for myself were actually appropriate.

A weight of self-criticism was lifted. I hadn’t caused my illness and I couldn’t have prevented it.

Obviously, I’d have preferred not to have the symptoms in the first place, but that wasn’t on offer. Having an explanation for them helped me understand what I was dealing with.

Discovering mindfulness

Might there have been some more intangible gains, though? MS changed my life. It slowed me down and it tripped me up. But over time, I realised that it also created opportunities and gave me experiences that wouldn’t otherwise have come my way.

MS guided me to learn more about how mindfulness practice could help me to manage my symptoms and the stress they create – and, beyond that, to help me navigate all of life’s stresses and losses. That learning led me to train as a mindfulness teacher. I met some inspiring people on the way.

For me, this was the most enjoyable and rewarding work I’ve done throughout my working life, emotionally and spiritually, if not financially!

Meeting new people and gaining new perspectives

MS meant that I met many other people I’d probably never have met without MS. Both in my mindfulness training and teaching and in a variety of other settings. Not all of them had MS, but they all faced challenges, as everyone does.

I learned much about what a shapeshifter of a disease MS can be. More importantly, I learned about the courage, resilience and creativity people can display in the most extreme circumstances.

This encouraged me to see MS as an important part of my life, but not the whole of my life and not my identity. An important part of my life – but not the end of my life.

I learned about the many things I can no longer do or no longer do well. But I also learned to be creative and resilient myself, and find things I can do that give me pleasure and joy and a sense of achievement. I can grieve for my losses – but rejoice in new interests.

Noticing the small things

Most importantly of all, perhaps, I learned to slow down, take my time, to breathe and appreciate the world around me. I had no choice but to slow down – and the learning that came was appreciated.

For much of my life I’d been too busy and hurried and harried to have time to focus on the small beauties of life – a squirrel exploring my garden, a beautiful sunrise, a small act of kindness from a stranger. I learned patience.

Finding humour and human kindness

I learned to find humour in unlikely places, as when the staff in Sainsburys had to help me deal with the aftermath of a bladder accident. It was embarrassing at first, but nobody died. The people I met were kind and calm. Embarrassment died and in time it became a funny story.

I learned to remember daily that although people can be careless, judgemental, unkind and even cruel, there is kindness and empathy, too. I’ve learned to accept and appreciate help – a difficult piece of learning for someone who’s always been a very independent ‘coper’! And I’ve learned that sometimes, other people find pleasure and achievement in being able to do a kind act.

Finding those silver linings

If I could push a button and be cured by magic as if my MS had never existed, would I push it? Of course I would – I wouldn’t choose to be ill if I had a choice.

But I don’t have a choice. I have MS, and that’s that. At present it’s incurable. My choice lies in how I respond to having MS and what I focus on. Once I’ve done all that can be done on a practical level to manage the symptoms and find coping strategies, then I can choose where I want to put my attention.

I finally have time to write! –Something I always wanted to do but lost in the busyness of life. I’ve learned to be adaptable. I can still cook, but now I use pre-prepared ingredients. I meet new friends and develop new interests, but via Zoom rather than face to face.

On balance, I think having MS has made me a more reflective, creative person than I realised I could be – and this definitely feels like a silver lining!