The suffering that's *optional*
How to NOT make hard things even harder when 2025's already fucked up.
None of us escape life on earth without some degree of suffering and pain. But we cause ourselves a CRAP TON OF *optional* suffering when we resist reality on reality’s terms and fester emotionally and mentally in a place of “shoulds” or “coulds”.
Was that a confusing sentence? LET ME USE MY LIFE TO ILLUSTRATE:
(Also I’m sorry this example is not more dramatic. I am boring now. harharhar. But I really believe this line of reasoning applies even in more extreme circumstances and don’t worry, I will return with drama again).
On Monday the 6th of January, Rowan (my daughter) had a sinus and ear infection. This was the 4th sickness we’d had since November, and my husband and I were incredibly exhausted with the nonstop sickness/traveling train. She’d get better and then…some kid would cough right in her face. Or some gross germy rando would touch her. Or she’d be on the cusp of health and theeeeennn her sleep routine would get fucked up by travel and we’d be back at square one.
So after a month of sickness + holiday travel, my friend came over to do a post-holiday gossip + reality TV session. Also, I’d started antibiotics a few days earlier so I FINALLY felt better after 6 weeks of absolute cacacrapola (a new word, I am Shakespeare). Anyway. Ah, sweet sweet gossip. I couldn’t wait.
But that night, Rowan kept crying. And crying. And crying. AND CRYING. She’d just taken her first dose of antibiotics so they hadn’t really kicked in yet. Even though I’d taken her to the doctor, they’d shooed me away, telling me there’s nothing to do but wait it out. MY DUDE. I tried to “wait it out” for six weeks and ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH.
In my gut, I knew what she needed that night - to be held. For at least an hour. She’s been pretty good about falling asleep on her own, but I could tell she wasn’t herself and needed some extra loving.
But I hadn’t SCHEDULED an extra hour of holding into my night. And my husband was working late. So I was running up and down the stairs, trying to comfort her, but also worried about neglecting my friend. And on one of my trips flying down the stairs, I accidentally stepped on the baby gate and rolled my ankle BADLY. It quickly swelled up to the size of an egg and I knew I’d sprained it. Maybe even fractured it. WHAT A FUCKING STUPID INJURY. (I really want to share the picture of my foot but it’s so gross so I’ll spare you).
(Sidenote: Here are my three most recent injuries):
Baby gate sprain/fracture(?)
Split lip from dropping my phone on my face
Wrist sprain from falling off a table while watering a plant
(Aren’t these injuries dumb? Why do they still hurt so much? Why human body so fragile? Ok, sidenote over)
The month of December scrambled my already scrambled brain. Overscrambled brain eggs. Blech. My thoughts were like my feet: constantly tripping and stumbling and tumbling, one after another after another. I felt overwhelmed and under and over stimulated. I had MANY ideas of what I WANTED to do, what I SHOULD be able to do in the year of 2025. I even had my cute little list of New Years Resolutions that I thought were SUPER DOABLE and VERY HUMBLE. And now I wouldn’t even be able to walk 1,000 fucking steps, let alone 5,000.
AND THIS IS WHERE THE *OPTIONAL SUFFERING* TRIED TO FORCE ITS WAY IN. Heavy, intense thoughts & emotions crammed their way through the door & fought to take up space in my mind palace.
Anger: FUCK!!! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?! RIGHT WHEN YOU START FEELING BETTER, YOU FUCK UP YOUR ANKLE GODDAMMIT THIS IS SOME STUPID SHIT.
Resistance in the form of blame: If RICK had installed the gate just a LITTLE MORE to the edge of the step, then MAYBE I wouldn’t be hurt. If Hannah hadn’t rescheduled for tonight, then you wouldn’t even be in this position because you would've been free to just hold Rowan and wouldn’t have been stressed out running up and down the stairs!!! Why did she reschedule and BASICALLY SPRAIN YOUR ANKLE?
Resistance in the form of fear: FUCK, I seriously cannot have an injured ankle right now. Does the Universe not realize I have an extremely active one year old? That I’m working part time and need to be able to keep up with her the rest of the time? How the hell am I gonna take care of her if I can’t pick her up?
More fear: Ugh, is this gonna stress Rick out? Is he gonna be able to pick up the slack? Do we need to pay for more childcare? But I haven’t been bringing as much income ever since I had the baby. We have to pay for MORE childcare while I’m not making MORE money? I don’t want to dip into savings for this shit!!!!!!!!!!~~~~~
But then: if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the last ten years it’s this -
Resisting reality as it is creates more suffering. Accepting reality on reality’s terms eases suffering.
We resist reality through blaming, shaming, anger, “why can’t it be different”, “what if’s”, and piling fears on top of WHAT IS ALREADY HAPPENING. WHAT HAS ALREADY HAPPENED.
In this scenario:
NON-OPTIONAL SUFFERING: Stupid golf ball painful sprained useless ankle. Bruises.
OPTIONAL SUFFERING: The energy of fear, blame, anger and resistance. Focusing on all the reasons why this “should” not be happening and all the ways this will make my life worse.
The reality was this: my ankle was fucked up. End of story. And if getting pregnant and having a kid has taught me anything, it’s that I will only enjoy my life as a parent if I let go of my ego’s agenda. I will only enjoy my life as a parent if I let go of the narrative in my head that says things “should” be different.
This is very hard for my CPTSD parts that reeeeeallllyyyyyyy need to know what to expect to feel regulated. I love certainty.
And letting go of my ego’s agenda doesn’t mean I don’t have boundaries, routines, or structure. My life has become VERY structured. I am actually EXTREMELY devoted to Rowan’s regular naps and bedtimes. It’s basically my only religion right now.
But!!!
I’m not *just* a parent- I have so many other desires and parts of myself I want to engage with. The gift and grief of becoming a parent in your late 30’s/early 40’s is, if you’ve done “the inner work” (barf), you are fully your own person. And damn, before I got pregnant, I had DONE A LOT OF WORK and so I HAD AN IDENTITY, OK?! I had ambitions. I had dreams. I had hobbies, a rich social and creative life, and lots of unrealized potential in my career. These things still matter to me. But with a young child + my own limitations, the time I set aside to devote to myself OFTEN gets disrupted.
Life bleeds outside the lines of my boundaries, routines, and structures all the time. Sickness + injury happen. Visits to pediatric urgent care, unexpected middle of the night wake ups, loss in my business + income, loss in my husband’s business + income, and grief - it’s all part of the experience of being fully alive.
Because of #1 and #2, I have to stick to my boundaries/routines/expectations as much as possible AND hold them loosely, knowing they’ll be interrupted by factors outside my control. To be the best parent for my child, I have to create a regular schedule that she can expect AND I can expect our schedule to get fucked up. I need to hold onto the ideal AND let go of the ideal. I have to continue to set the boundaries I can to not lose myself in motherhood AND I have to allow my dreams to morph & shift so they can include my daughter, because she is currently the neediest, cutest dream I have.
It’s some heavy dialectic thinking. A lot of holding the tension of opposites. A lot of letting each moment be what it is.
When I was in the thick of the newborn phase, running on intervals of 2-3 hours of sleep, I’d notice my anxiety pipe up: “What if you go to sleep now, but she wakes up in an hour? Then you’re STILL GONNA BE TIRED when will you ever NOT be tired and oh god, did you ruin your life? Maybe you should try WAKE WINDOWS or SIGN UP FOR A SLEEP TRAINING COURSE or MAYBE MAYBE MAYBE….”
And I’d listen to Ram Dass. Specifically the podcast, “Ram Dass Here and Now.” Because at the heart of Ram Dass’s teachings is the reminder that everything belongs just as it is. The idea that things in my life “should” be different is just that - an idea. A thought. An opinion. The truth is that things are how they are. My baby was gonna wake up when she was gonna wake up and sleep when she was gonna sleep, and no amount of freaking out and trying to anxiously control every part of her schedule would actually help (I know this style of parenting does help some parents. But in my experience extremely rigid structure + black and white thinking fueled by an anxious need for control is VERY destructive for my mental health).
Ram Dass says:
“Either you do it like it’s a big weight on you, or you do it as part of the dance. When you understand the thought is the thought of the thoughtless, your singing and dancing is no other than the voice of the dharma. Singing and dancing - insurance, savings accounts, jobs, responsibilities - Shiva’s dance of life. Do you do from ‘ugh’ or do it like ‘ah?’ Do you surf through it all, or do you carry it around like its a load?”
The 6 weeks of sickness at the end of 2024 was part of the dance. The sprained ankle was part of the dance. The bruises running up and down my leg were part of the dance. The worries and lowered income from my business and increased childcare expenses, my husband’s business, and the creative process - all part of the dance.
And it applies to other things: either I do bookkeeping and taxes like it’s a big weight, or I do it like it’s part of the dance. I get woken up an hour and a half earlier by my kid like it’s a big weight on me, or I do it as part of the dance. I learn to organize the endless stacks of mail and decorate my home like it’s a weight or as part of the dance. I cook like it’s a weight or like it’s a dance.
The more I think of life as “ah”, as an act of creation - even when I’m filling out spreadsheets, the more I find myself in flow. The. more I find myself in joy. And isn’t that the fucking point of all my ambitions, dreams, hopes, and desires? Don’t I dream because I think my dreams will bring me joy? And what if I could swim in joy more and more often, even in extremely imperfect circumstances?
Joy, doing it like it’s a part of the dance isn’t just "a privilege”. It’s essential medicine in the. midst of the terror and suffering of 2025. We CANNOT create the world we want without learning how to invite joy into every corner of our existence. Creative work - whether it’s creating a better government, a better environment, a small business, or raising a family - is HARD. And none of it is sustainable without regular, HEAPING amounts of joy.
We liberate ourselves when we realize we can tap into a state of joy, even in the midst of shitty circumstances. If anything, all my years of spiritual study and devotion showed me this was possible. It’s HARD, but possible. Even when I’m sick, tired, injured, and working on my 2024 taxes - I can feel like I’m dancing. I don’t need my external circumstances to conform to a set of arbitrary standards to find contentment. I can experience joy right now, where I am, as I am.