Of course it is not normal

Yesterday I wrote about a feeling of profound calm and peace. It is real, and it surprises me as much as it surprises anyone reading this.

This morning, rereading that post before sitting down to write again, I noticed a quote from Viktor Frankl in Man’s Search for Meaning that I had somehow overlooked before. It is a book I return to often, and today, Holocaust Remembrance Day in Israel, it carries particular weight.

Frankl writes: “An abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal behavior.”

Of course it is not normal to be fifty years old with PSP, preparing myself for what is likely coming in the not-too-distant future. I am not entirely sure what normal even means anymore, but it certainly is not this.

Facing the suffering and fear that come with knowing you have one of the worst diseases it is possible to have, one with no treatment, progressing precisely according to its script, cannot be met with anything resembling a normal response. By Frankl’s logic, what we usually label as “normal” might even be the most irrational reaction of all.

So perhaps there are really only two kinds of abnormal behaviour: positive and negative.

I am not talking about the very real pain and frustration that come with the loss of mobility. That is part of the suffering Frankl describes, the abnormal situation itself. It is the baseline problem, and it is undeniably hard.

But beyond that pain, there is a choice. Do you let the suffering beat you? Let depression take hold, anger seep in, fear become the ruler, the dark slowly expand? I will be honest: there are times when that negative abnormal response surfaces. I am sure there will be more to come. That is precisely why I work to remove myself, wherever possible, from the stimuli that trigger it: loud noise, crowds, bright lights, traffic, toxic positivity.

Or do you respond as Frankl did after surviving three concentration camps, including Auschwitz? Do you find meaning and purpose? Do you cultivate an inner calm, an acceptance of the journey you are on, and try to value the good moments when they appear?

Right now, this is where I find myself.

I have no right to offer advice to others. I know only my situation, and only as it exists today. Tomorrow may look very different. I may let anger and rage back in. I have no idea what anyone else is facing; there are simply too many variables.

But this brings me back to where I began.

Yes, I think it is abnormal to feel such peace and calm in these circumstances. I am not imagining it. I have meaning and purpose, and I am surrounded by the best of the best. Measured against any conventional definition, this is not normal, and in this context, normal would be the strangest behaviour of all.

As Frankl reminds us: “An abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is normal behavior.”

Each of us has to try, in our own way, to meet the abnormal as well as we can.

And my favourite line of his, the one I return to again and again, says it best:

“Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms, to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.”