I should very much like to live in a universe which was governed by such lines [where happiness and kindness abound and they always lead to good things]. But since it is abundantly clear that I don’t, and since I have reason to believe, nevertheless, that God is Love, I conclude that my conception of love needs correction. … Love is something more stern and splendid than mere kindness. … Kindness, merely as such, cares not whether its object becomes good or bad, provided only that it escapes suffering. C.S. Lewis
When suffering strikes, we seek instant relief. Our instinct is to eliminate the suffering by locating the source and then elude it, shield ourselves, or counterattack.
These tactics are natural and necessary, but what are we to do when they fail us? What do we do with the suffering for which we cannot pinpoint the source? Or, perhaps even worse, how do we endure suffering from an obvious cause but no method of escape?
We deem inescapable suffering as intolerable. And why shouldn’t we? Our underlying definition of the good life excludes all forms of suffering. We spend countless hours and dollars creating and purchasing insulation from suffering.
And yet still, it finds us. And when it does, our desperation to escape the inescapable sends us into wailing and writhing under its weight. And finding it unbearable to remain still, we run down every dead-end road that offers an appearance of relief, only to find none.
We play the victim, crying out for sympathy. We play the blame game, seeking respite in revenge. We reread our certificates of entitlement and petition the world to take note. We ingest numbing agents. We preoccupy ourselves with pleasure. We fortify our defenses against further pain. We deny the very existence of our suffering, but it only reappears in the camouflage of anger, busyness, or anxiety. Or we succumb to hopelessness and drag ourselves through each day.
None of these solutions produce true comfort. But there is another that does. And that solution is mourning – pure mourning – free of impurities, additives, and alternatives. When we enter the state of true mourning, we finally find comfort. And, we find ourselves.
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