.
. . Eighth, consider how much more pain is brought on us by the anger and
vexation caused by such acts than by the acts themselves, at which we are angry
and vexed. . . .
—Marcus
Aurelius, Meditations, Book 11.18 (tr
Long)
A fine
Jesuit priest once suggested to me that I try to distinguish between the ideas
of pain and suffering. The first was something I felt, he offered, and the
second was something I chose for myself.
I didn’t
like it at first when he said that, because it made me realize that I was
responsible for myself, and that I needed to stop making excuses for being
miserable. It reminded me that I was not a passive puppet, but an active man.
“But
I’ve been hurt!” Well yes, I will
confront many impressions, brought about by many external forces acting upon my
body, my instincts, and my passions. They are not what make me, however, and it
does not diminish their force at all to say that I can still be a master over
them. This is why I have reason, and this is why I have a will.
I have
always found emotional pain to be far more imposing than physical pain, but I
know that some find quite the reverse to be true. Whatever it is that may cut
us the deepest, the sensation can seem overwhelming. What can I possibly do to
face it?
It isn’t
of me, and it didn’t come from me. Now let me manage myself.
Have my passions
been offended? Then I should not deny what I feel, but make sense of what I
feel, and put that to good use. I am not merely a thing moved, but a mover of
my own actions. Let me take the rejection, the loneliness, the despair, and
transform myself with it. Let me become better through it.
Has my
body been hurt? Then I should not deny what I feel, but make sense of what I
feel, and put that to good use. I am not merely a thing moved, but a mover of
my own actions. Let me take the grinding of the bones, the weakness of the
flesh, the agony that runs through me, and transform myself with it. Let me
become better through it.
A medical
doctor I knew got quite indignant when I once quoted Ovid:
Endure and persist; this pain
will one day do good for you.
“You
wouldn’t say that if you’d ever felt real
pain,” he said, “like I see with my real
patients.”
Now I
instinctively wanted to slug him right there, because he thought I didn’t know
what real pain was. Perhaps I could show him? Those were my passions speaking, of course, and I managed
to tame them after a moment.
What was
really most disturbing about his claim was that he reduced people to objects of
feeling, and could not conceive of elevating them to creatures of choice. He
saw a bag of flesh, not a mind and a heart.
Any pain
is so much less than any suffering. The one is given to us, and the other we
give to ourselves. The one is within our power, and the other is the surrender
of our power. The former is horribly magnified by the latter.
Written in 5/2009
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