Sublimation.

“But I lacked the courage and she had a boyfriend

and I was gawky and she was gorgeous

and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating.

So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk,

thinking that if people were rain,

I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.
— Looking for Alaska, John Green”

I read this, and then thought 2 thoughts to myself: how I am a hurricane (but not in a good way), and how words always have a way with me.

When I was younger, I told myself I would marry a writer. He would be a literature teacher, someone well versed in poetry and history and literary works. Somone who would tell me about classics and the bible. He would be a fine writer, and I would get lost in the space between the sentences he wrote, between the images of sunrise and sunset he painted with words dripping with gold. Then I met someone, and I learnt good writing isn’t everything, because Don Juans and jerks have a way with vocabulary and syntax, but nothing quite more.

We just ended our Psychiatric revision module. There was no end to the fascinating things we learnt about the human psyche. But one word captured my mind the most- sublimation.

Sublimation is a defense mechanism, operating unconsciously, by which instinctual drives, consciously unacceptable, are diverted into personally and socially acceptable channels.

For example, someone with an innately aggressive nature could choose to deal with it by becoming a surgeon, because of the confrontational nature of the job. Someone with issues of anger or lonliness or lust could choose to diffuse his frustrations through sports. Aggression, anger, lonliness or lust are all frowned upon. But a job in surgery, or an engagement in sports is encouraged.

This word struck me, then stuck to me, because I realized, that all this while, a large part of my life has been a canvas of sublimation.

I study hard, I engage in endurance sports, I spend a substantial part of my time doing charitable work. In the eyes of the world, these are all seemingly wonderful. But only God knows and understands the motives of my heart.

I am searching.

It was only lately as I dealt with the disappointment of my poorly-healing injury, that I discovered that all I've been doing have also partially been acts of sublimation.

Only I know why I put in so much passion into my sport, so much enthusiasm into my work and what I do. Part of it is in my personality, because of my passion, and part of it is sublimation. I have, to some extent, extra time on my hands to be engaged in these activities with such fierce intensity, because I’m not attached to anyone. I’m not attached to anyone because of a sense of distrust- in myself, and in the opposite gender, in general.

Sublimation: a defense mechanism, operating unconsciously, by which instinctual drives, consciously unacceptable, are diverted into personally and socially acceptable channels.

My defense mechanism is my distance and busyness. My consciously "unacceptable" belief is that guys, especially the ones who start off being nice, always end up hurting me. My acceptable channel to deal with this is spending more time in my work, ministry, and sport, so my defense mechanism can be exercised.

Perhaps, we are all guilty.

And it is only in honesty, in self-reflection and in acceptance that we can come to terms with our acts of sublimation, be they our work, our hobbies or passions, and realize that very often, they reflect an inner missing piece.

My injury forced me to realize that I needed to deal with my missing piece. I used to enjoy being with my training buddies a lot because even though I was very good friends with my guy training buddies, there wasn’t much opportunity to become too close. That distance, with some humour and companionship and bonding on the road, made me feel safe. Time spent training also filled a hole.

We all have big holes somewhere inside. We need to find them so we can allow God to fill them.

But since I stopped riding, I started to develop what I call my Saturday syndrome. Since I couldn't ride with them, I then wish I had, on Saturdays, someone to take me out. But come Monday with its promise of busyness, and I would heave a sigh of relief that I was a free woman.

I realize, that I do, I keep doing, because it is a defense mechanism, a socially accepted channel.

It masks my distrust, my hurts, my disappointments I have had with previous male friends. So I keep a very, very safe distance with all of them now, not that I ever let any one of them get close enough in the first place. But through my understanding of sublimation, I began to realize that God is helping me realize that I can’t make it on my own.

One day, I will have an illness worse than a pelvic fracture or muscle injury. One day, I will realise work has no meaning without someone to share my day with. One day, I will wake up wishing I had someone to share my dreams and hopes about missions and volunteer work with.

If anything, this is what I've learnt in the past 2 weeks with my injury. That come one day, I will realise I can't make it on my own. Reading the exerpt above also made me realise that I am a hurricane. And that, too, is a problem- I'm a massive spin of hot and cold at the same time. A hurricane who stops in her tracks to pick up snails and toss them lightly into grass when no one’s looking because she’s afraid they might get crushed under someone’s unforgiving shoe. But a hurricane is a hurricane, whether it saves tiny lives in tiny shells or not- that scares me, too.

So from here to there, I can only say, God, thank you for revealing my defense mechanims to me, help me overcome my fears and anxieties, bitterness and hurts, because only You can help me.