Well, at least that's something...

I find human beings fascinating in their ability to adjust to adverse circumstances. No matter what may have happened to them, most people seem to have an endless capacity to reconcile themselves to their current situation and somehow find a way to cope with whatever is going on in their lives at that moment.

There are many different ways that life can, and often does, go wrong. Flat tires, stains and spills, forgotten appointments and running behind ~ the every day ups and downs of an ordinary life provide lots of examples of people routinely rising above their circumstances, in tiny doses of inspiration for those who are paying attention.

But sooner or later, every life will have some true catastrophe to derail the ordinary; a moment that will test personal strength, as well as faith, in a contest of good and evil that will ultimately reveal the character within. The surprise, I think, is not that some people fail the test, but that so many people pass it so spectacularly.

It is that resiliency, that true human spirit, that amazes and thrills me as an observer of people. Watching someone I care for bent and stretched and ultimately forged (a nicer way of saying forced) into someone better than they were before is an incomparable privilege of being alive, and it inspires me each and every time.

I was struck by this process once again as I recently listened to my daughter describe the process of sorority rush. Rush, for the uninitiated, is a weeklong routine reminiscent of medieval torture in which anxious females have their spirits crushed over and over before ultimately rising like a phoenix to find their appointed place in the Greek world. Although it may seem like a superficial example, I think it is the perfect showcase of the human ability to adjust expectations, and it rather effectively demonstrates the human instinct to survive and rise above whatever adversities life throws in the path.

Most girls come to rush week with their preferred sorority already firmly planted in their mind. The impressions they have formed come from many sources: family, friends, movies, television shows, web searches. The list of sources for information is limited only by their willingness to google, and their hopes and dreams are limited only by their own imaginings.

It is a long and difficult week for most girls, characterized by one loss after another as their dreams have to be repeatedly modified from their original expectations. Cuts are announced each day, and if they are not on the list for their preferred house, there are tears and heartbreak, at least for the moment. But then most of them gather up their remaining dignity and press forward, suddenly noticing positive qualities in the remaining houses that were previously hidden by a mistaken understanding of what would be best for them.

The most interesting aspect of the entire week, at least to me, is that when the houses announce their selections, most girls are thrilled to have been chosen by whatever house claims them, even if that was the last house they would have wanted at the beginning of the process. Many of them go on to be as dedicated to their altered outcome as if they had chosen to be there from the very start.

People of limited vision would say those girls have lost something, because they did not attain what they had originally hoped for. But I would posit that those who learn to accept and adjust to unforeseen events and build new dreams are the true winners, because they have gained in maturity and wisdom from adversity they never wanted. It is, in fact, a crash course in the harsh realities of real life, where sometimes the best thing that can happen is not to get what you hoped for, because there is something better elsewhere, once that door has closed.

Some people would say this is a superficial example, something that doesn't really matter in the context of a full life. But I would argue that the process of rush, psychologically brutal as it is, is a microcosm of real life. It is, for many girls, a forging experience, revealing the underlying mettle of the girl within. Hopes and dreams drift away in a daily wave of tears and regrets, while they watch their options temporarily limited. For many, this is the first time they have been told a true no to something they really want, and it is a tough thing to accept.

But other new opportunities come knocking, if only they can open their hearts and minds to the other options that have now opened up, and a surprising number of girls rise brilliantly to the occasion. It is, to me, a fascinating study into the ability of human beings to adjust their expectations to the circumstances in which they find themselves, and not only accept, but actually embrace both the hardship that got them to that end, as well as the outcome itself.

Many crises arise in a long life, of course, times in which people reveal themselves as the flexible phenomenon they truly are. When someone has a lingering illness, they make plans and say goodbye and even prepare for their own funeral, even though the human instinct is for survival.

I have seen people endure their house being blown to bits by a hurricane or burned to the ground with nothing but ashes to remind them of their past, and their first words will be about what went right in the catastrophe. That sort of mind bending flexibility in thinking is an amazing quality that defines our spirit.

I don't know if it's a regional quality, but I have lived in a number of states, and I have never seen anything to rival the ability of Minnesotans to downplay disaster. It isn't that they don't notice. Given the number of tater tot hot dishes that make the rounds, there is plenty of misery going around, and lots of people notice.

Quite simply, they are determined to recognize the good fortune that it wasn't worse, because it surely could have been. Whether it is a big catastrophe, like a death, chronic illness, or divorce, or a smaller crisis like a flat tire in the pouring rain with no spare, they will find a way to minimize the inconveniences of life.

But Minnesotans aren't satisfied merely with self-deprecation and personal uplift. There is an expected, and really rather charming response to this Pollyanna-like display of unreality, so that everyone can participate in the feeling of well being. (Whether they want to or not.) In case you are ever in Minnesota and find yourself desperately trying to fit in, there is one phrase that will almost guarantee your instant acceptance into the club.

Allow me to assist you in navigating the deceptively still emotional waters you will encounter.

When you are told that someone has terminal cancer and only six weeks to live, but at least now they won't have to get that crown they've been putting off, the proper response is, "Well, at least that's something...."

If your house burned to the ground, and you focus on the fact that your cat survived the experience, someone will be sure to point out that "at least that's something...."

If you go in to the dentist for a cleaning and discover that you have a cavity, a true Minnesotan will be glad they didn't need a root canal. Because... well... at least that's something....

See how easy it can be to play along?

Although it can be annoying at times to have your real life catastrophes persistently reduced to a catch phrase, it is an invaluable way of both reassuring us and putting us in our place. Misery does love company, but the pity party eventually has to end. It can be helpful to be reminded of what has gone right when everything feels wrong.

Being a Minnesotan is not just about a state or a place. When it's your birthright, the expectations are so ingrained it's impossible to leave them behind. Wherever in the world Minnesotans have gathered, sooner or later you are almost certain to hear the words, "Well, at least that's something." And I think it's a pretty solid way to live your life, all in all.

Whatever happens to you this week, keep in mind you can always find something positive in almost every situation.

Because... Well... At least that's something....