Submerged

It is not everyday I refer to an email a second time for inspiration.  But I was re-reading the email from James Clear and there was a quote in there by a guy called Pablo Coelho which sort of grabbed me.  It was the sort of though I seem to have heard a million times but I reckon it does me good to hear it a million and oneth time.  Or however that should be put.
“You drown not by falling into a river, but by staying submerged in it."
To me that says heaps about the way things are and my response to it.  It seems to be a given that trouble does come.  No matter how careful I may be, things occur outside of my control which are not pleasant.  Events I would prefer did not happen.
For some it is a dna thing.  An illness that is perhaps heredity.  Or a friend or the person themselves having some accident that changes life in an instant.  Or like me recently getting a cold which I so did not expect.  Things I would prefer did not occur but did.
For me it is not just about what occurred, but my reaction to it.  My default position may be like a “woe is me” response.  That is natural.  Investigating the new landscape.  But I honestly believe that like with everything I have a choice.  The event can floor me to the point where I do not recover and tiptoe silently into oblivion, or I can find the best in it and make the most of it.  Happenstance replaced with purpose.
I guess it is a bit like what happened with the stroke I had, brought on by the surgeon cutting an artery.  I did not expect that.  It changed my life completely.  Definitely not a good thing in itself. But not the end of the world.  Oh it could have been for me but I would say it changed my life completely for the better.
I determined what mattered, and the drift I was in, was a decline into nothingness.  Even if it was forced on me, it was a chance to reassess my position and do something about it where I felt it was lacking.
I have in the past likened events in my life as to once being a six stringed guitar and am now perhaps a four.  But just this morning I thought maybe instead of being a six stinged guitar now I am a four stringed banjo.
The stroke is only the end of one story but the beginning of another, better one.  I may have fallen into the river, but thankfully I did not stay submerged.