When the Buddha suggested that the first nobel truth should be ‘Life is Suffering”, upon learning this my first reaction was shock. A ‘no duh’, bada-bing rim shot. Looking back upon its sagacity and direction, it makes more sense to me than, say, ‘I am the Lord thy God, thou shalt have no other gods before me,’ commandment.
Because many times (many, many times) we are in the imperfect position to not so much seek a religious solution as a practical, non-secular one. Worldly, not heavenly. Here, now in this place and at this time.
After a few million years or so, we tweaked the message into a more contemporary slangy meme advising (not pointing or directing) that ‘shit happens.’
Hey there howdy does it ever!
As a result of these philosophical observations we find ourselves wishing for a little more detail, additional insight or even a new interpretation or two. Shit happens and THEN what? Life is suffering, yes, but what do we do with that? I am the Lord they God…OK, OK, OK I get it.
I am going out on the tree of life limb here in the hopes of answering a timely question for someone near and dear to me. Someone I have known for almost sixty years. My sister.
Dad died two weeks ago. Unlike Mom, his passing was quick. As I relayed to my lawyer, ‘he fell off his bar stool, banged his head on the floor and was gone in less than 36 hours.’ Good news - bad news to be sure. No longer will RG have to deal with failing health, dementia and the loss of his driving privilege. He won’t have to deal with his son and wife insisting that he take his medication regularly and in the proper sequence and dosage. His departure was fast, dramatic and final.
And now we deal with the emotional fallout as best we can. Everybody has their own style and pace. I admit to being slow, lethargic and calloused. I already miss the old guy tremendously and confessed to my younger brother that I feel guilty of not doing more during our 65 years together. This haunts me.
So many things I could have done to positively add to the mix. Yet after a time, the fog clears and the light streams down onto the lawn in my backyard. I hear the waves fall and the woodpeckers knock. I find that place in my heart where the tintype memories of the good times hang. I laugh aloud as his voice responds to mine in the same way that I gently sob when my request for him to hand me the 9/16 open end wrench will go unanswered. He is gone. I need to cope. I am in need of support. I need a hug.
If I feel this way - how my sisters must hurt.
If there is anything I can pass along to help, it might be simply this: It will pass. When we feel overwhelmed with sorrow, play back the funny tape, the memories of all the good times we had, the laughter we shared, the hills we walked, the dragons we slayed. Welcome the opportunity we all had to play a part in his life and be grateful he had 85 years in which to experiment. And then, take a deep breath and commit to your remaining time, pledge to go, see, do all those things that, perhaps, he didn’t. Learn from his life the things that will augment yours. What a great gift he has left us.
The memory of a better tomorrow.
Life is suffering.
Until we enlighten ourselves with the next step, that once we realize and truly accept that life is suffering, it no longer is. We grow from suffering to accepting.
I can see Dad saying Shit Happens.
That image makes me laugh. He never spoke truer words and for that, as much as anything else, I choose to let the sadness go and carry on (fully cognizant that there will be more suffering and more shit will happen) with a light heart and grateful smile. That is my reality.
Thanks Dad. Hang in there my brothers and sisters.
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