A Place Beyond Suffering

I borrowed a copy of Roald Dahl’s The BFG from my local library on a whim recently. My son had been recovering from the flu and was quickly reaching the “desperately searching for new reading material” phase of his convalescence. When we settled in for the night and began reading the story, I noticed Dahl’s dedication “To Olivia” for the first time. Now, according to the accompanying dates, it appeared that Olivia only lived to the age of seven. I didn’t know who this young girl was, so after the first few chapters were read and my son was fast asleep, I began a tiny learning journey.  

I discovered that Olivia was Dahl’s oldest daughter who died of encephalitis brought on by a case of the measles.  At the time of her death in 1962, the measles vaccine was not yet commonly available. Decades later, Dahl wrote an open letter to families during a measles outbreak in the UK promoting the vaccination. It's a fascinating read and I highly encourage you to check it out.

Of course, I didn't stop there. Further exploration led me to learn that Dahl had more than a usual interest in medical interventions, perhaps resulting from a life marked by serious health events and tragedies. For example, he collaborated with a neurosurgeon and a toymaker to invent a new device that would alleviate his son’s hydrocephalus resulting from a traumatic brain injury. The patented device would later be used to treat up to 3,000 children worldwide. Also, Dahl implemented a rigorous therapy for his wife Patricia Neal following a massive stroke that helped her fully recover her speech and eventually inspired the formation of the UK’s Stroke Association.

What stands out to me in all of this, is that Dahl never seemed to accept suffering as intrinsic to the human condition. He did everything in his power to alleviate pain and fiercely promote healing for others. This tiny learning journey reminded me to never get stuck in the valley of suffering, whether I'm facing an issue in my business or a struggle in my personal life. But rather, I can always forge ahead - one foot in front of the other - to a place beyond that is, I think, called hope.