You’re hurt? You think you’re in pain?
Yeah, you probably are. Welcome to the human race. Just like the man said, everybody hurts.
You’ve got pain. I’ve got pain. Everybody’s soaking in it. Into every life a little rain must fall.
I’d apologize for it, this pain you’re feeling, but that’s almost like taking responsibility for it. It’s not my fault, man. I’ve got my own shit to deal with. I won’t bore you with the list. Not that you’d likely be able to hear me, anyway, what with you being in your head and me being in mine.
Wait, maybe if we figure out what it all means, that will make it better. Sounds good, right? Finding a meaning, or a purpose, for our pain is a tradition with a long and storied past.
The eastern tradition is that pain is basically an illusion. For some reason, that’s supposed to comfort you. “Hey, it’s all in your head! Buck up, pal, if you were a better person you wouldn’t feel hurt.” I must be missing something but that seems like cold comfort to me. Maybe it’s tough love or somethin’.
The western tradition isn’t much better. Pain is somehow noble. Suffering is good for the soul. Hey, look at what Jesus of Nazareth went through, and he was the son of God. Nobody gets out of life alive, and in fact, the worse off you are, the more important you must be. Again… this seems backwards to me.
But both traditions come to the same conclusion about the ultimate goal. Getting rid of pain is what we’re put here to do. Unfortunately, getting rid of pain means dying. Either in reaching samsara, nirvana, or heaven… basically, you’re gone. Not of this world anymore. Pushing up daisies. Worm food. Buh-bye.
The modern, scientific conception of pain is that it’s an alarm going off. “Hey, buddy! Wake up! Something needs changing!” Now this is more like it. I can get behind this meaning. No, it’s not a fucking trick of my mind; it’s really happening. And no, feeling this hurt isn’t going to make me a better person; I am who I am already.
The downside to this idea of pain-as-alarm is that it suggests that pain is transitory, and that we can do something about it. It doesn’t really address the concerns of the older traditions, that, like I said, everybody hurts.
It’s also a pain in the ass if the source of the pain isn’t obvious. If my arm is gone and blood is pouring out of the stump, the solution to ridding myself of the associated pain is clear; tourniquet, motherfucker, and 9-1-1, stat! But if I’m just fucking sad and lonely, and I’m lashing out in anger at anyone who comes close, and I’m eating too much or not enough and I’m closing myself up in my apartment and not doing a fucking thing at all… well, that is pain, too. But what’s the course of action? Where’s the source of the pain? It’s not like I’ve got shrapnel in me that I can remove. I’m the source of my pain.
Let me repeat that, for emphasis: I am the source of my pain.
Applying the model I’m most comfortable with, if I’m in pain, then something needs to change. If I’m the source of my own pain, then I need to change myself.
I’ve been here before. I thought I’d figured it out. I was in pain, and, worse, I was causing my family pain. But I got it worked out. I kept on in what seemed like the right direction, and got some support, and things started to break my way.
But there was always a nagging reminder of suffering. I hadn’t completely healed. And truth to tell, I’m fucking tired of changing. Changing my job, changing my habits, changing the food I eat and the clothes I wear and the friends I hang around… it seemed to help for a while, but the pain always comes back, so either I’ll never be rid of it, or I haven’t changed the right things, and I’ve reached the point where I don’t really know what I need to change to fix this.
Sorry if this is maddeningly vague, but, again, I’m not going to bore you with the details, and I’m not going to ask you to put up with them. It’s enough that you’re reading this right now.
My point is simply this: Look, I understand that you’re hurting. I’m not trying to be callous, or unsympathetic. I’m sure it hurts, and I’m sure it hurts a lot, and even if the solution looks obvious to me, I’m likely wrong, and even if the solution looks obvious to you, it may still be difficult to actually do.
But I’m in pain, too. It might not be obvious, and you may or may not think that the reasons for my suffering is somehow worth it, and the solution may be obvious to you or it may not… but, fuck it, this is my pain. As much as I wish someone could just take it away from me, as much as I wish I could just somehow wish it into receding, ain’t gonna happen. Not today, anyway.
Fucking pain. It might, in the end, just be a reminder that we’re here.