How Adversity Can Be a Catalyst for Personal Growth
As human beings, we instinctively avoid pain and suffering. From the first moment we draw our hand back from a hot stove, we learn to navigate around things that might hurt us. And while this remains a solid strategy in the face of things like hot stoves, it’s not as helpful when it comes time to face the vagaries of life that eventually and inevitably conspire to yank us from our comfort zones.
The philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer posited that pleasure is simply the absence of suffering, suggesting that our pursuit of happiness is driven by a desire to minimize discomfort. Given this understanding, it’s no wonder that we flee from adversity. And yet, perhaps there is wisdom in embracing suffering as a means to personal growth and transformation.
Consider the metaphor of a riptide. When caught in its grasp, our instinct is to panic and struggle against the powerful current. But as any experienced swimmer knows, fighting against a riptide is futile and dangerous. The only way to escape its pull is to swim parallel to the shore until we’re free. Similarly, suffering can be seen as a force that drags us beyond our comfort zone, challenging us to grow and adapt in profound ways.
The concept of post-traumatic growth, first coined by psychologists Richard Tedeschi and Lawrence Calhoun in the 1990s, proposes that individuals who have faced significant adversity can experience positive psychological changes as a result of their struggles. Mental health professionals recognize that, while the pain caused by difficult life events should never be minimized, these experiences can serve as catalysts for personal development. It’s certainly been true in my own life. Virtually all of my most important periods of personal growth have been inspired by profound suffering that I simply wan’t able to avoid.
To quote a phrase I saw tacked up on a therapist’s wall, these were times when “the only way past the pain [was] through it.”
Research has shown that people who have undergone intense suffering often report a greater appreciation for life, more meaningful relationships, and a stronger sense of personal strength. They may also experience a shift in priorities, a deepened spiritual awareness, or a renewed sense of purpose. This growth is not automatic; it requires confronting the pain, finding meaning in the suffering, and actively engaging in the process of rebuilding one’s life.
Every time I’ve been confronted by suffering beyond my comprehension, this has been my path, the only path available. Of course my first instinct is to fight; but as I feel myself running out of energy and in danger of drowning, I choose the only path left: surrender. Swimming parallel to the shore, rather than battling to reach it again, while in the grips of a potentially deadly riptide. As another therapist once instructed me, “Where you are right now is neither here nor there, and yet it’s still a place. Why not get comfortable there?”
When faced with adversity, we can either sink or swim. By learning to navigate the turbulent waters of suffering, we may find that the experiences that once threatened to drown us can become a source of strength and resilience. The concept of post-traumatic growth offers a hopeful perspective on the human capacity for resilience and renewal, suggesting that even in the face of profound suffering, we have the potential to emerge stronger and more deeply connected to ourselves and others.
Of course, none of this is to suggest that we should actively seek out suffering. Chances are we’re not even capable of such a thing!
But perhaps we can learn to approach adversity with openness and curiosity, recognizing that it may hold the key to our personal growth and transformation. By embracing the challenges that life presents and allowing ourselves to be transformed by them, we may discover a depth of inner strength and beauty we never knew possible.
The path to a fulfilling life may not be one of constant ease, but rather one that includes a healthy dose of challenge and adversity.
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Postscript
I recently discovered the work of the late (fringe) Austin poet Albert Huffstickler. His “The Cure,” which I’ll copy below, is a wonderful meditation on the themes of this essay.
The Cure
We think we get over things.
We don’t get over things.
Or say, we get over the measles
but not a broken heart.
We need to make that distinction.
The things that become part of our experience
Never become less a part of our experience.
How can I say it?
The way to get over a life is to die,
Short of that, you move with it,
let the pain be pain,
not in the hope that it will vanish
but in the faith that it will fit in,
find its place in the shape of things,
and be then not any less pain
but true to form.
Because anything natural has an
inherent shape and will flow towards it.
And a life is as natural as a leaf.
That’s what we’re looking for:
not the end of a thing
but the shape of it.
Wisdom is seeing the shape of your life without
obliterating, getting over, a
single instant of it.
— Albert Huffstickler (1927–2002), from “Wanda” Walking Wounded
