Two years ago, on Christmas Eve, I hit the buffers.
A long-term relationship I’d emotionally invested a lot in ended abruptly and painfully. At the same time, I was grappling with a monstrous work assignment that had to be completed a week later.
As the world – festooned in festive joy - celebrated, I struggled. Really struggled. The pressure was finally enough to break a dam I’d built inside of me, flooding my system with cortisol and adrenaline, and putting me in a constant fight or flight mode. Sleep provided little respite. I’d crash out for a few fitful hours, then wake up in the crushing silence, my mind turning the same thoughts over and over. The feeling of despair was relentless
It was increasingly clear I hadn’t processed major moments in my career such as the bloody Brexit battle – which after a relentless campaign (I was on the Remain side, working side-by-side with then Prime Minister David Cameron from dawn-to-dusk) ended brutally, with many people I cared about badly hurt. More significantly, I realised I hadn’t dealt with painful experiences in my childhood.
I needed to do something. With lockdown looming in the spring of March 2020, I decided to see if anyone – anywhere - had any solutions to the way I was feeling: spat out, burnt-out and strung out.
I hit the books. It didn’t start well. A lot of current thinkers see humans as a kind of cosmic joke, essentially an animal with an over-developed brain, constantly sending itself on the fool’s errand of finding meaning where there is none. The despair intensified.
Fortunately, others were more positive. They argued too many people spend their lives trying to avoid the pain they feel. Others end up wrapped up in their minds, torturing themselves by obsessing about the past, the future and other things they can’t control. The key is to break this pattern of overthinking.
A series of talks by Michael Singer - a successful businessman, who has become something of a psychological guru - really shifted my perspective. He began one talk by explaining the history of the universe from Big Bang until now, concluding: ‘So, after 13.5 billion years of universal history and the tiny place you have in the current world, what makes you think you can control anything, and why do you think your troubles matter so much? ‘We get to live on the most amazing planet in the known universe, he pointed out, a world of wonders. Instead of bitching, we should see simply being here as a gift, not a grind.
Then a friend leant me a copy of a book by Viktor Frankl, an Austrian psychiatrist who spent years in Auschwitz, called Man’s Search for Meaning. His brother and mother were gassed. His father and wife died. Despite this he went on to see there is purpose and joy in life. He believed gratitude and optimism are essential to staying balanced and centred. I figured if he could do it, so could I.
At the same time, I took up exercise to calm the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I woke early and ran as the sun rose. I noticed that nature appears to stay the same from day to day but over a period of months, it changes absolutely. I saw an essential pattern to things: something doesn’t exist, then it comes into being, peaks, fades and then it is gone. There is nothing that this does not apply to – objects, relationships, our lives, even the planet we live on. At the same time, I came across thinkers who pointed out that suffering occurs when we try to resist this essential pattern, clinging on to things we like and resisting painful moments and feelings. Good and bad, it all ends. Understanding and accepting that pattern wasn’t depressing, it provided a lightbulb moment – accept the way things are and don’t think you can control everything. I started to feel better.
A podcast seemed like a natural next step - talking to well-known people who had experienced trauma to find out what they had learned from it. I called it Desperately Seeking Wisdom and aimed high – asking some very successful people like BBC’s George Alagiah, film director Richard Curtis and former leader of the Scottish Tory Party Ruth Davidson to appear, telling them it was about helping people live a simpler, more balanced life. They said yes.
We recorded a series of twelve episodes, packed with so many pieces of wisdom. Top of the list is the fact that trauma and suffering are inevitable. We can choose to accept that and learn, or be miserable. George Alagiah, aged 58, who has been battling bowel cancer since 2014, told me he would never have wished to have the disease, but he’s not sure he’d give up the years he’s lived with it, because it has made him realise how good it is just to be here, alive, on this planet. “I’m not 100 per cent sure that I’d give the last seven years back because I have learnt stuff about myself and think about life differently,” he said. “I’ve become wiser and life’s richer.”
Another major theme which became evident throughout the podcast was the need to actually be present and experience your life, instead of your mind being elsewhere. Despite experiencing deep sorrow, Richard Curtis constantly reminds himself to: “Relish the ride.”
Mo Gawdat, who was Chief Business Officer at Google X, recalls playing video games with his son before he died tragically and suddenly age 21 during a routine appendectomy. His son, Ali, had wondered why Gawdat was always racing to get to the end of the levels so quickly, because he was missing the point of simply exploring and enjoying.
One of the most profound points in the series came from the psychiatrist, Dr Bruce Perry, who has written a book with Oprah Winfrey called What Happened to You? Conversations on Trauma, Resilience and Healing. He said for too long we have been asking the wrong question about people we find difficult: What’s wrong with you? We should be asking: What happened to you? It’s amazing to consider how different our world would be with such empathy.
All of the guests on Desperately Seeking Wisdom felt it was important for people to face our issues. We live in an avoidant culture: work, drink, drugs, shopping and sex are just some of the things people do to stop feeling their inner pain. But, you’ll feel far better if you face difficult feelings and let them pass through you, rather than blocking or obsessing about them.
The podcast has changed my life in one significant way. I’ve learned to be vulnerable. I never was as an Editor at the BBC or a Senior Advisor to the Prime Minister. I thought people would see my doubts and uncertainties as weakness. I now know they are a strength – and that generally there is a deep craving for us to be more open with each other.
I’m still in the foothills of understanding. I don’t pretend to be a guru. But I do think sharing with people on Desperately Seeking Wisdom has helped me and others see life as a gift. This simple shift in perspective really can help change how you see the world and experience your life for the better.
You can listen to Desperately Seeking Wisdom at desperatelyseekingwisdom.com or wherever you get your podcasts.
5 pieces of wisdom to live by
“At first I felt cheated by cancer… but I got to that point where you’re able to see life as a gift.” George Alagiah
“Life has a pile of good things and a pile of bad things, and the good things don’t mean the bad things don’t happen and the bad things don’t mean we should not relish the good,” Richard Curtis
“As you get older you see the world and the compromises in it and not everything is black and white and that it is harder to navigate and that sometimes you get things wrong,” Ruth Davidson
“Things we do to each other matter a lot at the time but in the great scheme of things probably don’t,” Justin Webb
“Being able to deal with a lack of perfection is really important because life does not go according to plan,” Isabel Hardman
