In Difficult Times

Is there such a thing as non-difficult times? Has any generation thought that things were going pretty smoothly? Most generations have seen horror, sadness, trauma, grief, and broken-heartedness at the state of humanity. We have seen countless wars, anger, frustration, polarities, and self-righteousness. And somewhere in between, there are glimmers of hope. A spark that rests in each person’s Soul is illuminated and yet, for myriad reasons, is covered, disavowed, and denied. I wholeheartedly believe that every single being in this world has a Divine Spark. We are all, every one of us, made of the elements of the Universe: oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen. and carbon. There is not one living thing on Earth that does not contain the elements of the entire Universe within it. That does not mean that there are not differences between us, in fact, it means the differences can and should be celebrated. How wonderful that with these base elements, so many versions have been created! And yet, we sit in these most difficult times of swirling ideologies, beliefs, and heaviness.

Difficulty is often where we experience the most cognitive dissonance. We sense the friction of things, the discomfort, misunderstanding and even confusion. Yogic practices (and other meditative and insight based modalities) give us tools to help navigate the challenges we face daily. These practices are ways to help us see more clearly. When we sit quietly, even for brief periods of time, we can become more aware of what the next right steps will be. This is key in building a life of intention that is aligned. In no world can we exist where we do not experience some sort of difficulty, but these difficulties are there to remind us what is important, what we need to move through discomfort. Even practices of embracing discomfort, although it sounds antithetical, are ways to understand ourselves and the world in a more integrative way.

When things happen that we don’t understand, we, as human beings, desire answers and ways to make sense of the world. We are hard wired for safety and this safety drives us to double down on our perceived identity. In the realm of yogic wisdom, this attachment to our identity rests both in asmita (the “I-ness”) and in abhinivesha (our fear of not-existing, or fear of death). This is not just the actual fear of dying, but the fear that our identity might die if our beliefs are not validated and justified. We will adhere ourselves to our trauma and victimization in order to confirm an ideal of what we believe that we are. But is this all that we are?

When we start to compare our pain to someone else’s, when we deny one’s experiences of trauma with our own, as if mine is worse than yours, we lose our ability to empathize with one another. We can be the bearers of whatever we have witnessed in our own lives, and we can hold space for other’s pain and suffering. It does not have to be a competition for who has had it worse. Who wins when we start to compare our traumas? Who is the victor in the competition of suffering?

I have experienced sexual abuse, anti-semitism, and misogyny firsthand. My ancestors left their homelands because of pogroms, genocide, and exile. Does this make me a gold-medalist in the arena of pain? I would prefer not to wear that medal. Who hasn’t been through something difficult, painful, and traumatic? Show me a human being who has not suffered at the hands or beliefs of someone or something else?

I say all of these things in order to share the insight that it is in this collective humanity that we can show up with compassion. We can say, “I have experienced this too”, without taking away or trying to one-up someone else’s trauma, or distress. We can hold each other closely as we weep for our children, our brothers and sisters, our families and our friends. We look into each others eyes and recognize the frailty we all share, knowing full well that we all desire to affirm our ego and not see that ego dissolve. And it is in the humanity of being that we discern that our sense of self does not need to die with standing alongside one another. In fact, as we do so, it reminds us that we are capable of the same.