But such is the fate of the hero that almost as soon as one challenge is vanquished, another appears. And so, having avoided plunging down a path that promised to be nothing other than a waste of energy, the hero is met with an even greater obstacle as he is guided—indeed, almost commanded—not to take a wrong path but to take no path, that is, to abandon the journey altogether. I am referring to the experience that many of us have of visiting an ENT for the first time and being told that there is nothing to be done, that we need to go home and accept our unwanted sound as a life sentence.
Understandably, the pull of inaction is powerful. Already overwhelmed by this intrusive noise that compels him to flee but leaves him with no sanctuary, the command to do nothing is consistent with—and exacerbates—his sense of powerlessness. And so, tortoise like, we retreat further into our shell and cease engaging in activities we previously enjoyed, visiting places that provided us with pleasure, or spending time with people we care about. However, something rankles the tinnitus hero about this course of action, or rather, inaction. It is not that he does not trust these men and women of science. He does. It is just that he trusts his own spirit more, and this spirit rebels against the helplessness this verdict engenders. It is antithetical to his nature, which agrees more with the Latin saying, “Dum vita est, spes est”: While there is life, there is hope. And so he decides to formulate a plan. Here, however, is where the third of our challenges comes into being.
For no sooner does the tinnitus hero seek to ignore the naysayers and commit himself to action then he is confronted with a plethora of false prophets selling some device, medicine, or method as the miracle cure for his condition. Some of these, like bioflavonoids, are harmless and relatively inexpensive, well others can be outrageously priced and potentially dangerous. Although the desperation required to fall victim to such wild claims is understandable, and the tinnitus hero may even try out a few for himself, iit does not take long for him realize that the men and women hawking these claims are nothing more than modern snake oil salesman. What possible reason would the entire scientific community have to either purposely ignore or consciously suppress a cure for Tinnitus? Of what used to them is a diagnosed Tinnitus patient sent home and told to do nothing? And so the Tinnitus hero insists on action within the realm of reason. Abandoning the extremes of despair and false hope, the Tinnitus hero plods forward and puts his effort into evidence-based strategies with a realistic chance of improving the quality of his life by decreasing Tinnitus distress, since at this point he knows that there exists no treatment or therapy that can reduce the noise of his Tinnitus.
Fortunately, like the mythic hero, he does not have to confront this challenge alone. There exist audiologists to work with on sound therapy, a behavioral health professionals to provide evidenced-based interventions, and support groups, online forums, and loved ones to offer much needed encouragement. Ultimately, a victory of sorts is won. Although the foe is not vanquished, at some point, and with no small amount of effort on his part, the Tinnitus hero is able to return to a normal life. An existence that seemed irrevocably altered by the onset of the condition regains its normal rhythms. But if one simply returns to where one started, the journey would have been in vain. Hence, Joseph Campbell says of this final stage of the hero’s journey, which he calls the return: “When the heroic task has been accomplished, the adventurer must return with his life transforming trophy.”
But what trophy does the tinnitus hero bring back as a result of his struggle? David Kessler, who worked with Elizabeth Kubler-Ross in applying the 5-stages of dying model to the experience of grief, has added a sixth stage to the grieving process: finding meaning. According to Kessler, finding meaning in loss “allows us to transfer loss into something else, something rich and fulfilling” and “empowers us to find a path forward.” It might not at first seem obvious that tinnitus is a grief-inducing condition, for what is apparent in the case of tinnitus is not what is lost but what is gained. For most, this bonus consists in the classic chronic, high-pitched sound, noise, or ringing typically in the frequency of 6-8 khz. But although the noise of tinnitus that gets all the press, the loss of silence is as profound a shock to the system.
Importantly, to find meaning in one’s loss is not to imply that the loss was a good thing or that one is grateful it occurred. To find meaning is to use the loss as a catalyst for something positive and life-affirming that was not there before the loss. This is something we are all capable of doing. It may be something as simple as deciding to keep a gratitude journal to focus on aspects of life one may have previously ignored or as radical as deciding to use the diagnosis as the motivation to finally take a long-deferred dream. Whatever solution is brought forth will invariably reflect the spirit of Nietzsche’s “what does not kill me makes me stronger.”