"Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.”
Haruki Murakami
This is not a very cheery quote, but it speaks the truth. Pain is never welcomed into our lives; in fact, we do everything to sidestep it like we would fire ants or potholes. In last week's blog, I focused on the relentless duty of parents and the myriad of ways in which they protect their children from dangers. Unbeknownst to kids, safety nets are placed all around them, disarming all the hidden potential for bandages and ice packs. However, as Haruki Murakami proposes, pain is inevitable and will invite itself in.
When my son Tim was two, I bought him a little red plastic ATV from K-Mart. It was a “scoot around” kind, not the motorized kind, so it was perfect for his age. He couldn’t wait to get home and was thrilled to ride it. I lifted it out of the back seat of the car and set it on the driveway as he tumbled out of his car seat, bolted for the trike, and jumped on.
Tim lifted his tiny velcroed tennies high in the air and swiftly sailed down the gradual slope of the driveway and directly into the path of our wooden mailbox post. I could see how all of this was going to happen…and I let it. I knew he would hit it, but by the angle, he would dump into the soft grass, not onto the asphalt street. I knew he’d be fine and thought this was a good time, a good lesson, to learn how to hurt.
Dragging himself up from the wreckage, his quivering bottom lip pulled up over his upper, Tim let out a mournful groan. I am not sure if it was as much physical pain, but of shock, embarrassment, disbelief. How could something so perfect betray him? I held him for a moment, and began to think about how I needed to respond. Alan Watts said, “There will always be suffering. But we must not suffer over the suffering.” In other words, how long was Tim going to stay in the state of suffering?
Funnily enough, he blamed it on the ATV! This reframed my thoughts, so it was actually very simple. I told him he was alright, and I asked him what he would do differently next time. His little face softened as he negotiated this concept. Tim learned that getting hurt is now a possibility, how can he avoid future hurts, and what should he do when it happens again. He practiced going down the driveway again, but this time testing his reflexes and his wisdom in knowing how to stop...how to fix the problem.
Donald Miller wrote that, “Suffering ceases to be suffering when you have a redemptive perspective.” What can grief and the suffering from it teach you?
Stand outside of it, lift up your tennies, and attempt a different approach.