Suffering Amplifies Our Joy

We have all experienced a head cold. As a teacher, I am particularly susceptible to them since I spend every day around children. They come on suddenly, when out of a clear blue sky we feel that ominous, tickling sensation deep in our sinus cavities, often accompanied by a sneeze or two. For a brief while we convince ourselves that it’s just allergies, or a little dust in our sinuses. We mollify our fragile psyches with false assurances: “it’s not a cold… I’ll be fine.” But the moment inevitably arrives when our nose becomes a faucet and our head a throbbing, pressure cooker. The congestion eventually settles in our chest as we begin the agonizing cycle of coughing, exacerbated by a sore throat.

This is suffering. It strikes unforeseen, sadistically disrupting our daily routines.

There is a moment during every cold where the same thought inevitably crosses my mind: “How on earth could I have taken for granted the wonderful feeling of being able to breathe through my nose, having no congestion, being able to finish a sentence without coughing up a lung.” Suddenly, the simplest blessings, things we take for granted every day, become our heart’s greatest desire. And when the cold finally abates, there follows a day or two where we truly are appreciative of our good health. But that period of gratitude comes and goes all too quickly… until the next cold, that is.

I assume most people can relate to the trials of a head cold. I write about the experience with a healthy dose of hyperbole (in case you couldn’t tell), but the sensation, exaggerated as this account may be, is all too real. A head cold in the grand scheme of things is low on the list of actual tribulations. As terrible as it may seem at the time, it pales in comparison to the true suffering of a terminal illness, the death of a loved one, financial catastrophe, unanswered prayers, unrequited love. These are the experiences that have tortured human existence for time immemorial, leading many to nihilism and misery. No matter what our station in life, no matter the size of our bank role or the strength of our arm, we are all subject to the world-shattering travails of human suffering. Suffering and death are the two great equalizers.

But what if we could eradicate misery? How many of us at different times in our lives have wished it could be so? Imagine a world without suffering, without death. At first glance it seems like Eden reborn, like a perfect utopia. And if it came to be it certainly would feel wonderful… but only for a little while. Eventually however, true Joy would become a distant memory, unattainable. Our greatest achievements would be as straw upon the wind or a single grain of sand upon the seashore. Existence, life, the very act of being itself would cease to possess even the tiniest sliver of meaning.

In truth, it is suffering, imperfection, death and misery that allow us to experience and appreciate the absence of sorrow, the ordinary, the everyday. In the same way that a head cold helps us to value good health; in a much more powerful way death and suffering allow us to treasure life because of its fragility – rather than in spite of it.

There is a scene in the movie Troy where the hero Achilles speaks of the inherent beauty of mortality. He makes the claim that the gods of the Greek pantheon who are immortal and exponentially more powerful than humans, are in fact envious of our humanity. Achilles says:

“The gods envy us. They envy us because we’re mortal, because any moment may be our last. Everything is more beautiful because we’re doomed. You will never be lovelier than you are now. We will never be here again.”

This perspective is certainly cold comfort to anyone in the midst of grief. Grief is inescapable, it is the natural reaction that our body makes in response to tragedy. You could no more prevent grief than you could stop your hair from growing. But for those of us who are not currently struggling through misery, those of us who are in the middle of our seemingly ordinary, day to day humdrums, should take a moment to reflect upon this thought. There is no such thing as an ‘ordinary day.’ Every day is beautiful. Every day is a gift from God. Every day ended, is gone forever. And that is beautiful. Suffering is in our future, death lies ahead, misery waits… But beauty is in the contrast, happiness is in the ordinary, joy is in the now.

“But seek first the kingdom [of God] and His righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides. Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient unto the day, is the evil thereof.” – Matthew 6:33-34

Just Say No - To Yourself

We have all seen plenty of self-help books that emphasize the importance of being able to say ‘no’ to people. Growing up we were taught by our local D.A.R.E. officer to “just say no,” to drugs. We have heard frequently and tragically, the mantra “no means no,” regarding sexual predation. These are all common examples and make for some useful advice. However, the most important person you must learn to say ‘no’ to is yourself. Saying no to ourselves seems simple, so simple in fact that you might think it asinine but I can assure you that’s not the case.

We live in a consumeristic society that is driven by advertisements. Even our

Facebook videos are interrupted by ads now (and don’t even get me started on YouTube). The point of every single commercial ever made is to overpower your ability to say no to whatever item they are peddling. Caving in to this temptation one time is usually harmless. However, each time we say yes to an advertisement we increase the likelihood that we will say yes to the next one as well and the next one after that and so on. We all know people who have lost control of this situation and have room after room in their home so stuffed full of junk you can’t tell what color the carpet is.

Extreme cases are easy to identify and make us quick to justify our own shortcomings. We call to mind a friend or relative who is a hoarder and tell ourselves, “Well I’m nowhere near that bad,” as we purchase a bigger television to replace the (smaller) one that works just fine. Or when we immediately run out and buy the new iPhone, because…. well… it’s the new one. If we only ever compare ourselves to the worst-case scenario then it becomes all too easy to rationalize our own weaknesses. A healthy spiritual life isn’t determined by the absence of evil, but rather by the presence of virtue.

We fight these miniature battles against ourselves dozens of times every day without even realizing it. The reason that we don’t think of them as battles is twofold: 1) we usually give in before we notice a struggle and 2) because they generally pertain to (seemingly) small decisions. For example, when we’re watching Netflix and the dishes need to be done but that next episode pops up, ready to start itself; we have a brief opportunity to say no to ourselves. How often do we lose that battle? When we order the #6 combo at Taco Bell (Chalupa’s are my Kryptonite) but we have already had our daily quota of pop and we know we really should get water, but the meal comes with a fountain drink. How often do we lose that battle?

Again, these examples seem small and harmless and in isolation they may very well be. But any skill at which we become proficient begins with baby steps. We learn to crawl before we learn to walk and we learn to say no under seemingly trivial circumstances before we have the willpower to say no in serious situations. This is a vitally important skill to master. When we look at the big picture, how many of our life-long problems are caused by an inability to say no? Obesity, alcoholism, budgeting, child rearing, drug addiction, promiscuity, credit card bills, clutter, etc.; the list applies to every facet of our lives. It naturally follows then, that learning to curb our appetites has the potential to improve every facet of our lives. Stop for a moment and reflect upon that simple, lifechanging statement.

When we learn to say no to ourselves over the little things we are building the intestinal fortitude to overcome temptation. Matthew Kelly has described it as doing a ‘spiritual pushup.’ The Church in her wisdom, has given us opportunities to build virtue by saying no to ourselves through a process called mortification. Every week, for an hour before mass we are required to fast; which seems trivial but it is a spiritual pushup nonetheless. All throughout lent and even during advent we have opportunities to practice mortification. These incidents seem small, even irrelevant but they are not. One pushup by itself is useless but a lifetime spent doing pushups will see tremendous gains. Our spiritual life is no different. Mortification is the spiritual practice that we need in order to be able to compete at the highest levels of spiritual warfare.

My challenge to you, is to implement this in your life right now, today. Nothing life changing - something simple. Most diets fail because people try to change every aspect of their life on day one; like diving into the deep end before you have learned to swim. Don’t do that. Pick something small today and something a little bigger tomorrow. Stay off Facebook after 7p.m. or limit yourself to one episode on Netflix or have a glass of water when you want pop. It seems simple, but it is (literally) how saints are made. Take it from a future Saint, Archbishop Fulton Sheen, who said it best, “A man’s character is dependent upon his ability to say no.”