Ending the Drama of Crisis
Human drama has been a feature in my life thanks to my role as its principal actor. Sometimes I cast myself in life’s comedy/tragedy; sometimes others assign me a designated part to play. Either way, once the curtain opens, my Self takes center stage. Furthermore, my lines are memorized given my intimate familiarity with the character I play, whether hero or villain. I then act out the same old drama with my Self as the writer/director.
Only rarely is there a change in a drama’s sad outcome. Yet my Self tries to insist the next performance will have a happy ending. Instead, a reprise of the same old theme of human conflict and misunderstanding plays out. Until I recognized that my script required a rewrite, repeated immersions into life’s unnecessary dramas would inescapably continue.
The problem was simple. My Self thrives on drama. Crises provide it with the opportunity to amplify any negative feelings that surface, magnifying them into a toxic cloud so dense I lose my ability to course correct. Rather than being governed by the truth of my conscience, I am instead mired in the quicksand of anger, fear, and hopelessness. In so doing, I lose all sight of the steps needed to move out of the crisis.
Early on my path to Grace, I had to look squarely at the time and energy wasted on such emotional foolishness. I may not have possessed the necessary tools to shut down my Self’s show, but I could stop my participation in such insanity.
That’s why willingness -- to be teachable, to face change, to take ownership -- is so crucial. I must recognize that my Self’s method of operation produces an emotional minefield. Making my way back to sanity demanded a new approach to human interplay, fully divorced from the toxicity of drama.
I spent my late twenties working in Los Angeles as a screenwriter, primarily writing cheesy science fiction movies for television syndication. In developing one’s craft, a screenwriter quickly learns that effective drama begins and ends with conflict creation, normally between the story’s central characters. Without such conflict, the show offers no suspense, no tension, nothing compelling enough to keep the audience in their seats.
The human condition is no different. I unwittingly reveled in life’s drama thanks to how it inflated my sense of Self-importance. Yet not once did I experience lasting satisfaction. Drama might deliver a certain level of spectacle or excitement, but if I am being honest, my Self is the only part of me enjoying the show. No other dimension of who I am derives any benefit.
A crisis becomes a drama due to my ungraceful response to stimuli. That truth forced me to ask a question, one which I am now required to consider with each challenge faced: Am I objectively stepping back from the problem to seek a solution? Logic dictates I look for the best answer possible prior to responding.
What do people who live in such dramas of crisis tend to do? Speaking for my Self, rather than solving the problem, I dwell on it. My Self’s fixation is strictly to avoid responsibility for any crisis. I accomplish that by dumping copious amounts of blame on others while showing no interest in a positive solution. Somehow living in crisis gave my life a twisted sense of meaning, evidenced by my refusal to let go and try something new. When I am operating with my Self in control, I see only the problem. If I am working from a state of Grace, I seek solutions through accommodation. Assigning fault plays no role in crisis resolution.
One subcategory of human drama bears a quick mention and results whenever my Self decides to make a mountain out of a molehill through embellishment and exaggeration. A normal facial blemish becomes life-threatening skin cancer. On the other hand, when confronted with a serious climb, my Self defines the task ahead as nothing short of Himalayan. For my Self, even the smallest things deserve screaming about. I blow minor problems into full-fledged dramas thanks to my Self responding with toxic emotion. One of my goals as a student of Grace is to learn how to respond thoughtfully, regardless of the blare of my Self’s siren.
Having now trudged many miles along Grace’s highway, my conclusion is that life’s crises are part and parcel of the human journey. Day to day existence presents difficult challenges regardless of how much internal healing I may have achieved. Rather than a straight line, I see my life as resembling a heart monitor’s steady beat. The screen’s series of ups and downs confirm I’m still alive. Beyond that, there are no further guarantees. Grace requires I make peace with this reality through daily acceptance, then continuing life’s climb.
I no longer define life’s success or failure by the cards I am dealt. My focus now is exclusively based on how I play out each hand. In fact, the best poker players know the cards they hold are quite secondary. They win due to an acquired ability to read their opponents. Holding good cards provides confidence but cannot be counted on when a crisis occurs. My path to success is now based instead on how others at the table play their cards. Only then will I see how to respond correctly. That awareness includes knowing when to fold my cards to avoid further loss.
Minimizing the fall-out from a crisis seems as simple as remembering two of life’s most familiar guidelines. Mindful adherence to this sage advice drastically reduces the potential for drama while providing a path to meeting any crisis in a graceful way: Rule #1 Don’t sweat the small stuff. Rule #2 is the one I tend to forget: It’s all small stuff.
A major road sign Grace’s travelers come across early is that life’s most complicated problems can often be remedied through the application of simple solutions. If I hate the show, I can drop the curtain or, at the very least, begin moving toward the exit.
Darkness will dissipate when I make an affirmative choice to change the way I look at life. That demands the removal of such toxic feelings as fear and anger from any given equation. A crisis is best served when I approach it dispassionately. Rather than living in the darkness of crisis, I now attempt to seek its solution’s light.