Trauma is a word that evokes images of pain, loss and adversity. But for some, trauma is not a grave, but a passage to unexpected growth, deeper empathy and a richer appreciation of life. My journey, characterized by heart operations, almost fatal blood loss, challenges on eyesight and profound family revolutions, has taught me that it is not only possible to survive trauma, but to bloom.
This is the story of how every stumbling block – whether it is physical, emotional or existential – the fertile soil for resilience, patience and even humor. My hope is that these lessons can help others to face their own storms to find seeds of hope and possibilities.
Hearts and healing: Lessons from the operating table
At the age of 15 I became a kind of pioneer: a teenager who underwent open heart surgery in a time when such procedures were still experimental. The first operation was followed by two more, each more complex and riskier than the previous one. The scars on my chest are a route map of narrow calls and second chances, each proof of the miracles of modern medicine and the resilience of the human mind.
Surviving three open heart surgery and living with the knowledge that a fourth is not an option-has my prospects fundamentally formed. Every day is a gift, a memory that the vulnerability of life is not a reason for fear, but a call to live with intention and gratitude.
Learned lesson – Resilience is not going to bounce back to who you were earlier. The point is to be someone who is new – someone who is forged by fire, but not consumed.
Find humor in the hospital: the healing power of laughter
Restoring large surgery is exhausting, especially for a teenager. My parents brought me a record player and a stack of comedy albums in their wisdom. I laughed, sometimes painful, for the antics of the brothers of Smothers and Bill Cosby. Without the knowledge of mine, that belly laugh was also deep breath, which helped my lungs to cure and accelerate my recovery.
Years later I got the chance to personally thank Tommy Smothers for the role that his comedy played in my healing. His surprised gratitude reminded me that humor is not a trivial distraction, but a powerful medicine.
Learned lesson – Even at the darkest moments, laughter is a lifeline. It reminds us of our humanity and our ability to joy, even if joy seems impossible.
Blood, vision and mysteries of the body
My medical adventures did not end with my heart. At 69, a medication accident led to an almost fatal loss of more than four pints of blood, almost half of the stock of my body. I have experienced passing worldwide memory loss and the loss of time pieces without warning or explanation. After Lasik operation, my brain learned to use one eye for distance and the other for reading, a daily memory of the adaptability of the body.
These experiences have taught me humility towards the unknown. Medicine is a science, but it is also an art, and sometimes the best answer is “I don’t know.” Accepting uncertainty has made me more patient with myself, with others and with life itself.
Learned lesson – Patience is not a passive endurance. It is an active embrace of uncertainty, an willingness to live with questions instead of demanding immediate answers.
Loss and love: Family as the rock
My son, Eric, lost the greatest trauma of my life before he was two years old. His short life and early death dived into a depth of sorrow that I had never known. It also shattered my assumptions about honesty, faith and the order of the universe.
But even in the axis of loss, new connections emerged. Tens of years later I discovered that I had a daughter I never knew, and with her the joy of new relationships and the healing of old wounds came. Family, I learned, not only about biology, but about the ties we choose to cherish and the love we want to give and receive.
Learned lesson – Sadness and joy are not contradictions; They are intertwined. The depth of our grief is a measure of our ability to love, and every loss is an invitation to open our hearts wider.
Humor as a survival strategy
During my medical and personal tests, humor has been my constant companion. When classmates asked about the scar on my chest, I would ask: “You should see the other man.” When I was confronted with the humiliation of aging, I learned to laugh at myself instead of leaning against fate.
Humor knew no pain, but it transforms it. It enables us to step outside of our suffering, if only for a moment, and to see ourselves as survivors instead of victims.
Learned lesson – Finding humor in hardship is not denial; It is resistance. It is the refusal to let pain have the last word.
The science of resilience: trust in the process
My survival is proof of the power of science, but also for the humility of the scientific method. I participated in clinical tests, experienced both breakthroughs and setbacks and learned to trust a process that appreciates evidence above certainty.
Resilience, I have discovered, is not a solo act. It is built in community with doctors, nurses, family and friends who support us, challenge and sometimes just sit in silence with us.
Learned lesson – Resilience is a team sport. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, lean on others and share your story. Connection is the soil in which we flourish.
Faith, doubt and the search for meaning
Raised in a religious household, I struggled with faith and doubt throughout my life. Trauma has a way to remove easy answers and force us to confront the mysteries in the heart of existence.
For me, the search for meaning has become more important than finding definitive answers. I have learned to appreciate the journey, to appreciate curiosity beyond certainty and respect the different ways in which people find goal and hope.
Learned lesson – Meaning is not something we find once and for all; It is something that we create from moment to moment, while we choose how we can respond to the challenges of life.
Practical advice for flourishing trauma
For those who are confronted with their own traumas, there are a few practical strategies that helped me:
- Embrace Vulnerability: Allow yourself to feel pain, sadness and fear. These emotions are not signs of weakness but of courage.
- Cultivate patience: Healing takes time. Be gentle with yourself and trust the process.
- Search humor: Find reasons to laugh, even if it is on the absurdity of your situation.
- Build connections: Lean on your support network and don’t be afraid to ask for help.
- Stay curious: Accept that you do not have all the answers. Have curiosity guided to new perspectives.
- Before your journey: Your scarring-physical and emotional badges of survival, not shame.
The blossom and the stone
Trauma is a stone in the path, an obstacle that threatens to stop our progress. But with resilience, patience and a sense of humor, that stone can become the basis for something beautiful.
Every challenge I stood for has sometimes changed me painfully, but always in deeply. I am not the same person I was for my operations, my losses or my discoveries. In many ways I am stronger, softer and lively.
For everyone who reads this who is in the middle of the fight, knows you are not alone. Your pain is real, but that also applies to your ability to heal and grow. You may not have chosen your traumas, but you can choose how you respond. And in that choice the possibility is not only from survival, but also of blooming.
Author bio
Steve Larsen is a man of many dimensions. A serial entrepreneur who helped shape the digital age, his companies created technologies that would later feed Facebook, Google and Amazon.com. Through three open heart operations and the devastating loss of a son, he has demonstrated the same fierce resilience in his personal life that produced his entrepreneurial success. A natural explorer, Steve has cut its way through 18 countries and 43 states on two wheels, who have described his motorcycle Odysseys for more than two decades in top magazines.
His new book, My heart has been there from the startTells about his personal journey and emphasizes the power of the human mind. Read more at Stevelarsen.
