I have many thoughts this winter. This is a time when the natural world rests, animals hibernate, and many humans embrace the “cozy” that comes with colder weather.
As we slow down throughout the winter, although many people participate in the bustle of holidays, we may find that in the stillness of January, there is reflection. The act of reflection is one of looking inward, many relating it to a personal practice that includes increased self-awareness to understand our own emotional states.
Maybe it’s the pervasive greyness I see through the blinds, but in winter, I think about my own emotional response to my parents’ death a bit more and how, in the continuation of that grief, I feel suffering.
Here, I’m sharing my reflections on loss and how it relates to philosophical understandings of suffering. Before I get started, I want to acknowledge that there are many different definitions and understandings of suffering. Religions and cultures throughout the world understand suffering in many different lights, from concepts of karmic influence to a path for spiritual growth, and in some views, an inevitable part of life that cultivates a renewed connection with divinity.
Looking at the philosophical underpinnings of suffering, grief, or really any topic is to understand the wisdom behind it and, in the pursuit of knowledge, gain a better understanding.
When a person in our life dies, we can experience a lot of pain. I felt this intensely after my mother’s suicide. It is commonplace to think that suffering is bad or should be alleviated.
However, in sitting with this pain and reflecting on the profound impact this death has had on life, I can say I have learned that there are actually some benefits.
Originally, when I wanted to put these thoughts on paper, I felt hesitancy because in the grief support community, there is a tagline, “No Silver Linings”, meaning that there are no lessons to be found, nor is there a positive outcome from a death.
I am sure that is true for many, and finding a silver lining, or attempting to, for another person who is grieving, is dismissive and lacks perspective. I remember feeling this shortly after my mother’s suicide when a friend gave me a book entitled “Joy of Living.” She encouraged me to “see the bright side.” I felt my face get hot and instinctively wanted to throw the book at her. However, I paused, thanked her for the gift, and stated it’s not that simple. That book still sits on my shelf, unopened and unread. Although her efforts were well-intended, she saw grief as a problem to be solved. I am sure she wanted joyful Charlie back, and the pensive, broody version she was encountering made her uncomfortable. Unfortunately, the happiness she was encouraging me to access was something that was not possible in raw pain.
This blog is not intended to dismiss pain for other people and give optimism where none can be found. It is simply to say that with time and reflection about the suffering regarding my own grief, I have learned some things that I would not have learned otherwise, or may have learned them over time with natural aging and experience.
Besides increased compassion that comes from enduring great hardship, I have a deep respect for reality and acceptance of my potential and limitations. There is a song written by Cat Stevens on his Mona Bone Jakon album released in 1970, and it states, “ I think I see the light coming through me, giving me a second sight.”
In time, I saw the world and people within it very differently. I was able to notice things I had never perceived about relationships, love, hardship, conflict, misfortune, you name it. I was able to see myself more clearly in my potential and understand the importance of humility.
I have learned that the more I understand that sorrow is inevitable and will come to us in life, the less we will actually suffer.