Credit: stevekrh19
Suffering is something most of us run away from. We know it and, by definition, don’t like it. Many of us, in fact, define happiness as the absence of suffering. But a big part of life too is to seek out meaning. After all, what is happiness without meaning? If we simply try to avoid suffering, then we are, in a sense, deriving happiness from a sort of pleasure, which, as most of us know, is ephemeral. So, where does meaning come from? Sometimes, society or nature skews the directionality of meaning. Ultimately, however, it manifests from within. If we want to live meaningful lives, then, suffering is a powerful vehicle to get us there.
Unavoidable Suffering
Involuntary suffering is part of the human condition. We cannot avoid some suffering. Everyone we have ever loved, unless some hypothetical cure to death is discovered soon, will die. Half of the time, marriages don’t work out. Natural disasters, mass shootings, car crashes, cancer, incarceration – there is an endless list of potential suffering just waiting for us. Suffering is, like many things in life, information. We live our lives based on this kind of information, otherwise called experience. That is, we make decisions largely based on experience. We believe, generally, that we make better decisions with more experience. That’s why wisdom is associated with age.
The more profound the suffering, the more we want to run and hide from it. Senselessness can make suffering more profound. I think of learned helplessness, a concept from Intro to Psych. When a dog, say, gets randomly shocked in an experiment so that nothing it does has any consequence on the adverse stimulus, it learns that it is powerless and gives up; it becomes lethargic, apathetic. Even when some way to avoid getting shocked is presented, it does not stir the animal into action. We humans are not so different. Anyone who has experienced depression, for example, understands this sort of feeling well.
I was severely depressed around 2015. It took considerable time and effort to escape the inertia of negative thoughts and feelings – years, in fact, because depression doesn’t tend to pop out of nowhere. But having found an escape velocity, I find myself in a happier, more meaningful state than ever. How? Given the depth of my despair, I was either going to give up or live, and living was going to take a big change. So, I reflected. I leaned on what I had learned of the Stoics. I learned what was meaningful to me and found my resolve to not return to that gravity well of pain. What made sense was what I could control, not what I couldn’t. The senselessness, in a sense, was resolved. Like pressure making diamonds, suffering can make meaning. I think we should always strive to make the best use of our experiences to live, however briefly, happier, more meaningful lives. If we don’t, we die.
This isn’t easy what I’m advocating. You should not occult your feelings when suffering, despite temptation. Feel your pain. Process it slowly and dutifully. Understand it. It’s necessary to learn what can be learned from it. You can only grow stronger from finding the meaning within the pain.
Avoidable Suffering
Voluntary suffering is a different thing altogether. Instead of standing steadfast against the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, you are searching for a sea of troubles and diving in headfirst. There are various philosophies that find this kind of volition appealing: sadism, masochism, BDSM, mortification of the flesh, and so on. Suffering seems to break down denotatively in these examples; pain is made pleasure. Mortification of the flesh is an interesting example. Pain is meant to be pain. But the meaning, to deaden desire or to suffer like Christ, is built in. Are these examples of suffering? How much suffering (mental, emotional, and physical) can there be in a process you engage in willingly? Further, where is the senselessness that effects the search for meaning?
Something is different here. What is torture, say, if it is chosen? Exercise, sacrifice, discipline. These things are good; they can yield good health, good morals, and good routines. This idea is mimicked in the biological phenomenon of hormesis, whereby small, limited exposure to negative stimuli can generally make an organism more resilient. Working out, sitting in ice baths, spending time in a sauna, even practicing penance can help make us stronger when exposed to harsher conditions. This is a useful concept, especially when life gets too easy, when we are likely to take things for granted and could use a good kick in the pants. The goal, however, is to keep exposure small, stress limited. That’s how it works. If suffering were truly the goal, our well-being would be at risk because we would seek out maximum pain. And we know that working out too much, for example, is bad for us, that our bodies are not able to recover from the damage, that we should rest and recoup what was lost. Or, likewise, that too much heat can cause heat stroke.
Suffering can kill us. It should not be taken lightly. It is Shylock, demanding skin to give; it leaves scars, in various forms. I’m uncertain how many scars one can obtain and still have skin to give. But it’s not something I’m willing to find out. Yes, when we survive, it helps us grow, and we can be grateful for it. But we are human, and suffering is taking a risk. In taking that risk, we are not appreciating the good, because we are not protecting it. I am grateful for my suffering, for the times when I did not want to continue, though I wouldn’t want to relive them. Because of them, I am better able to calibrate my good fortune, what I have. Today, I am happier, more resilient. In the words of J. Cole, “you ain’t never gon’ be happy ‘til you love yours.”
Life 10,000 years ago, a time we are better adapted for, was not like today; it was not comfortable; stressors abounded. That doesn’t mean you’d want to go back there. I’d take living today, any day, over living in the Stone Age. We can be grateful for suffering without wanting it. It can make us better; but that doesn’t mean it does so without, at least temporarily, making us worse. There’s never a guarantee with suffering that you will make it out the other side of the proverbial tunnel. Don’t bet on that. Commit to nicks and bruises instead of slings and arrows to build resilience, gratitude, and happiness – think hormesis. When suffering does occur, and it inevitably will, you’ll be in a better place to battle it, and to find meaning. And that’s all any of us is trying to do half the time, anyway.