"I'm the victim.... It's a clear case of food contamination. I won't tolerate any sanction," Alberto Contador proclaimed. The outraged world class cyclist tested positive for a banned substance in July which puts his third Tour de France victory in jeopardy. What caught my eye was his use of the word "victim." I know nothing about the history of the steak Contador points to as the culprit or if he broke the rules, but the role he's playing is familiar. Similarly and despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary, baseball players Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds claim that they were injected with performance enhancing drugs without their knowledge and in some instances they deny the accusations completely. Are they "victims" as well? What about taking responsibility for our lives? What about dealing with adversity like real pros?
"...There are pestilences and there are victims, and it's up to us, so far as possible, not to join forces with the pestilences" (The Plague). Let's roll our sleeves up for an injection of resiliency from Albert Camus. Yes, there are real victims of forces beyond their control... in Haiti, on the Gulf Coast, in Pakistan, on doomed airliners. Camus challenges anyone who has a choice in dealing with adversity to stand tall. "The sight of human pride is unequalled," the French philosopher enthuses. In my many years of philosophizing about countless topics with thinkers of all ages, there is no more beloved character than Camus' Sisyphus. Wherever I tell his story, I carry a small statue in my pocket of this figure from Greek mythology. Kids love him and rub the top of his bowed head; adults admire him; Camus celebrates Sisyphus' ability to be bigger than the very large, literal chip on his shoulder.
"Myths are made for the imagination to breathe life into them," Camus invites us into Sisyphus' world. Representations of Sisyphus leave his face hidden so that we can fire our individual responses to his legend. Sisyphus' punishment, levied by angry gods, consists in pushing a rock up a steep, formidable hill ...eternally. Every time he and his rock arrive at the top of the precipice, he then pivots to watch the expected tumble to the bottom where the climb must begin again... and forever again. Bad job! No way out! But Sisyphus chooses to love his rock, without complaint, and makes it his thing; they belong to each other. He wedges his foot under it, rests his cheek against it, molds clay-clotted hands around it, and presses upward. Though he can't change his circumstances, he can give his life meaning by handling it with grit and style. He doesn't pretend away the reality of his situation, never fantasizing that the rock will rest snugly at the top, nor does he wallow in self-pity. He refuses to play victim; he chooses to play on his terms. This rugged mountain climber is Camus' hero because he figures out how to be the master of his fate. It doesn't matter why Sisyphus was dealt this futile assignment. The simple truth is that the task is at hand both for him and for us. Our responses make all the difference. What counts is the refusal to give in. The winners keep pushing their rocks. "The method: it is a matter of persisting."
Plenty of examples of Sisyphean triumph come to mind and heart. Let's return briefly to professional sports for a better story. Stephen Strasburg, hugely-hyped pitcher for the Washington Nationals, awed players and fans alike with his 100 mph fastball when he arrived in D.C. for his debut season in 2010. Wins and strikeouts and screaming fans came to an end with a telling twinge in his arm; the damage required surgery with a stint of rehabilitation lasting anywhere from 12-18 months. Strasburg's response: he is eager to make the most of the long stretch of physical therapy and return to his team a better pitcher. Another strike thrown by the young athlete well aware that his baseball future is uncertain. A quick scan of people in my life reveals resiliency in vibrant colors. When a friend told me tearfully that he lost his job with no warning whatsoever, I watched him hunt for work, both fearful and determined, with all his might. In a month, he got his job. In three semesters, my blind student was never late for class or turning in an assignment. Another student with severe cerebral palsy, totally dependent on her mother's care, chose to volunteer with her mom at an elementary school so the children could learn that disability can be overcome. I've watched exhausted night students arrive for 7pm class after a full day's work, ready to go another round. One of my favorite papers was titled: "Why That D Minus Was the Best Grade I Ever Received." Rather than blame the instructor's rigorous standards, this savvy student chose to use the failing grade as a signal to look at her life and rearrange her priorities; the rock pusher earned an A for the class. I watch caregivers of agingparents seize this unique responsibility with grace and gusto, while parents of a child with Asperger's Syndrome see their son through tortuous years crowned by a college education and successful career. The two patient and talented young men who assist me with website and assorted electronic issues both worked all summer in 100 degree heat; never once did I hear a complaint about the heat (or about me!). What I did hear was "I'm really glad I have a job" from the one toiling long hours in a fast-food restaurant; and, "This heat is really hard on the trees" from the other gentle man, working high in the air for the family tree business. These faithful laborers are paying for their college educations.
It can be done. "Everything considered, a determined soul will always manage," Camus encourages. It's the acceptance of defeat without effort and the consequent loss of pride that galls the French philosopher. Anyone who meets difficulty with courage may well agree with Sisyphus "that all is well." How can that be? Faced with a lifetime of dialysis and still engaging in a full life? Struggling to put food on the table but giving a reassuring hug to the waiting child? Working hard at a job that doesn't suit yet modeling good humor? "The struggle itself towards the heights is enough to fill a man's heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy." Is it possible that what could be burdens can serve as opportunities instead? How about enhancing our own performances with steely resolve? Apparently, it's not "poor me" after all. At all.
