Skip to content

The Good Things That Come Out of Terrible Times

Terrible times leave metal embedded in the riverbed of your thinking. Most people leave it there and call it identity. Here’s how to see the scrap, reclaim the capacity inside it, and put it to a purpose you actually choose.

A riverside crane lifts a rusted boiler from clear turquoise water, revealing a ridged riverbed and submerged scrap beneath a vivid orange and pink sky.
A crane pulling a well-preserved boiler out of a surprisingly pristine river and it's good
Published:

In Isaiah 49, people who feel forgotten are invited to lift their eyes and look around. The chapter gives voice to the exhaustion of effort that seems to have produced nothing, then answers with remembrance, purpose, and restoration.

People are guided toward water. Mountains become a road. A landscape that appeared to determine what was possible begins to offer a way forward.

That image matters when you have lived through something that rearranged your life.

By the time you begin considering what comes next, you may already have done enormous work. You deserve a conversation that understands its depth and takes your future seriously.

Picture your thoughts as a river.

On the surface, you can see movement: the decisions, explanations, reactions, and familiar behaviors that carry you through a day. Beneath that movement is a slick, corrugated riverbottom.

Water presses against it, following its contours. Here and there, pieces of metal are embedded in the bed.

Some edges are visible. Other pieces have been pressed into place so thoroughly that you can barely distinguish them from the surrounding material.

The riverbottom represents the ancient meanings that help direct your responses. It holds assumptions about belonging, responsibility, authority, safety, and what you are allowed to want.

This is what I mean by the code beneath the current.

Some of that meaning came from your own attempts to understand experience. Some arrived through family expectations, workplace roles, relationships, and repeated descriptions of who you were supposed to be.

Under pressure, you learned ways to keep moving. A response that helped you navigate particular conditions could eventually become so familiar that you experienced it as part of your identity.

You may notice the current long before you recognize what directs it.

Perhaps you immediately take charge when something becomes difficult. Maybe you explain yourself with extraordinary care because being misrepresented has carried real consequences. You could be able to detect a change in someone’s mood before they have said a word, and your attention moves toward managing it almost automatically.

Those responses have a history. There may be considerable intelligence and effort inside them. Understanding how they formed allows you to examine what they are doing in your life now.

One question can help you look beneath the moving water: “What am I assuming will happen if I respond differently?”

You might discover that taking responsibility has become linked with belonging. You might find an expectation that speaking plainly will cost you a relationship, or that your own plans must remain flexible because everyone else’s needs take precedence.

A meaning that was difficult to see begins to acquire an edge. You have found a piece of the metal.

This is the connection I see with the Seth material associated with Jane Roberts. In The Nature of Personal Reality, readers are invited to examine beliefs they have accepted as reality itself. Something can be available to conscious examination and still escape notice because it has become part of what a person takes for granted.

Your riverbottom gives that idea a physical form. You can observe a thought passing through and ask what underlying meaning keeps directing thoughts along that route.

Once you recognize the assumption, you can examine its authority. Where did it come from? What evidence supports it now? What choices does it make difficult to imagine?

The pressure above the riverbottom matters, too.

You may still be navigating circumstances that demand practical changes, resources, or support. Looking carefully means attending to both the structure beneath the current and the conditions keeping the water under force. A useful next step has to account for your actual life.

Excavation can take time. Material pressed into place over decades may have connections you discover gradually.

As you uncover one piece, you may understand a family role differently, reconsider a professional decision, or recognize how an old expectation has followed you into a new relationship.

That recognition is work accomplished. It also gives you something to work with.

Inside an adaptation may be a capacity you want to reclaim. Your attention to other people can include perceptiveness. Your ability to keep complicated situations functioning can include planning, judgment, and resourcefulness. The precision you developed while trying to be understood may become an asset in writing, leadership, or expressing what you want.

You can recover the capacity and reconsider its assignment.

This is where reclamation becomes more than removal. You examine the material, recognize its possibilities, and prepare it for another process. Perceptiveness might serve a creative project. Planning might help you build a business or arrange a life with more freedom. Clear language might support relationships in which your preferences have room to exist.

Mary Morrissey’s book Brave Thinking contributes a direction for that work through the question, “What would you love?”

The question becomes especially useful when you have begun recovering something valuable. Where would you love to direct this attention? What would you like your resourcefulness to make possible? What could you create with the energy and ability you are reclaiming?

Give the answer enough detail that you can begin. You might protect an hour for your own work, inquire about an opportunity, ask for a different division of responsibility, or make a decision you have postponed.

A capacity enters a new process through an action.

Isaiah 49 brings me back to the possibility of receiving help along the way. The chapter answers the feeling of being forgotten with remembrance and describes restoration that includes guidance and provision. In that light, lifting your eyes can mean becoming available to more than the conditions that have occupied your attention.

You can look for someone who understands the work. You can accept assistance with what is still difficult. You can consider a future without requiring yourself to produce every resource for reaching it.

If this riverbed image brings something into view for you, Fredhappy Healing Touchstone Services™ offers a place to explore it in conversation. Together, we can consider what you have been carrying, what you are beginning to reclaim, and what you would love to make possible next.

Book an exploratory conversation with Kate to see whether working together feels like a good fit.

You can arrive with the movement you can already see: a decision you keep circling, a responsibility you are reconsidering, a transition, or a possibility you want to explore. Together, we can examine what gives it meaning, what pressures remain active, and which capacities you would like to put toward something you choose. The practical realities stay in the conversation alongside your intentions.

My background in anthropology and marketing shapes how I listen to roles, expectations, language, and the stories that organize a situation. My own experience gives me respect for how deeply those meanings can become embedded.

Someone once called me “Crazy Kate” in front of others and behind my back. I now have a garbage reclamation business called Crazy Kate 888 LLC. I gave the nickname a job, with some humor and substantial healing work behind that decision.

Your reclamation will take its own form. You may want a different working life, a relationship in which you can speak plainly, more room to create, or greater freedom in an ordinary day. Those are worthwhile destinations for recovered material.

I keep my copy of Brave Thinking: The Art and Science of Creating a Life You Love by Mary Morrissey nearby as I work. It connects a specific vision of a life you’d actually want with the work of examining assumptions and then taking ordinary action toward it.

The core idea is that most people stay stuck because they treat their current assumptions (about what’s possible, what they deserve, how things have to be) as fixed reality. Morrissey argues that by clarifying a specific vision of a life you would love, examining the beliefs that contradict it, and then taking consistent action aligned with the new vision, you can create meaningful change.

She presents this as both an inner process (thought, intention, self-belief) and a practical one (repeated steps, tools you can use). Her approach connects a vision for life with examining assumptions and taking repeated action toward it.

Among all her achievements and degrees in higher learning, Mary’s favorites are the two black belts she’s earned: one in Success and the other in Failure. I get it.

The recovered capacity needs a direction, or it just gets reassigned to the next crisis.

The good things that come out of terrible times can include this growing ability to see beneath the current. You recognize an edge, understand what has been embedded, and begin recovering something you can use.

As you give that material a chosen purpose, your relationship with the river changes. You gain more understanding of its course and more possibilities for where your effort can go.

As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.

More in Books, Of Course

See all

More from Kathryn Fredrickson

See all