At the most basic level, the definition of suffering is wanting things to be different than the way they are.
We crave things we don’t have. We try to push away things we have but don’t want. In these ways we unintentionally create our own suffering.
I live with a brain injury that significantly influences my life energy. In addition, I’m dealing with new health challenges that have left me extremely limited since January.
Until recently, I was okay with things as they were. Not okay in that it was what I wanted. But okay meaning I wasn’t banging up against resistance or great discouragement.
I didn’t love my situation. But I was able to see it as a matter of going step-by-step, doing one thing at a time. Things weren’t fun. But I wasn’t expending additional energy battling against my situation or wanting things to be different.
In Buddhist practice, we are reminded again and again we can take adversity as the path. In other words, we can face adversity, bow to it, and use it as a means of cultivation.
My daily challenge has been to embrace the shifting experiences as best I can, take the hardship as fuel for love, compassion and patience. As a believer in karma, I also see it as an opportunity to purify past actions.
On the outside, yes, my life was significantly limited. But in inner terms of heart and mind I was doing pretty well.
Until two weeks ago.
What changed was I suddenly wanted things to be different. My beloved Garchen Rinpoche is teaching in Boston in mid-June and I wanted to be there. I planned to be there. I was going to see Rinpoche, meet a friend coming down from Vermont, walk the streets of Boston and Cambridge where I lived 14 years ago, catch up with dear friend I hadn’t seen since then, meet a twitter playmate face to face for the first time…
I had time in the schedule for rest and quiet, but I was envisioning great energy, relaxed meals in good company, and joyful dharma.
All of which meant taking things one step at a time was no longer good enough. No longer acceptable. I wanted energy to travel. I wanted to not be short of breath with the slightest exertion. I wanted to breeze through crowded airports, thrive in a bustling meditation center. I wanted to be up and about and functional and energetic instead falling down with exhaustion. I wanted to not need control over my environment or assurances of peace and quiet or guaranteed gluten free food.
I wanted things to be different than they actually are.
Wanted, wanted, wanted, wanted.
Do you see? I’m not saying there is anything wrong with wanting things to be different. I’m talking about the results of those desires.
I watched my mind become entangled with these concepts of I need, I want. I observed. But I couldn’t stop them. I flip flopped between wanting to go and deciding I needed to stay. I wondered if it was just a matter of trusting things would work out, all the while feeling life was falling apart. What was the difference between being exhausted here and exhausted there? I wouldn’t have my own bed. I would have Rinpoche and Buddhist teachings. Maybe seeing him was the best possible thing for me. And having a bit of a vacation. And seeing friends.
For over 5 intensely difficult months my mental landscape had been relatively calm. Now I watched my thoughts spin out, creating stress and unhappiness. Creating suffering. My mental landscape obscured by dust storms.
Just as suddenly, the storms subsided. Two days ago my doctor made a strong recommendation against travel. I made the decision to accept the disappointment of canceled plans and took her advice.
The disappointment is not easy.
I’m coming back to taking things as they are, and that’s decidedly not easy either. But I have a feeling taking adversity as the path is far easier than creating suffering in the name of desire.
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