Reflections on Humanity, Suffering, and the Struggle for Meaning
Posted 21/12/2014
I feel like I’m running out of words, yet the weight of the world presses upon me. The more I write, the more I feel the echoes of my thoughts fading, becoming insignificant in the grand scheme of things. I’ve spoken often about humanity’s struggles, our environmental crises, and the personal battles I face within myself. But lately, it feels as though nothing I say can capture the magnitude of what is happening both in the world and within me.
There are times when I feel lost, trapped in a limbo—caught between light and darkness, right and wrong, good and evil, happiness and sadness. My emotions, my thoughts, my spirit—everything is perturbed. I feel like I am fighting a battle against myself, struggling to keep my mind from spiraling into compulsive thoughts over matters I have no control over.
I’ve always strived to maintain my spiritual practice, but the noise of the world and the constant exposure to its suffering make that difficult. I sometimes feel the urge to throw my hands up in despair—“Fuck it”, a voice inside me says. There’s only so much one person can do to make a difference. Perhaps the solution is to accept things as they are, with the understanding that they are inevitable. As the saying goes: “Such is, meant to be.”
Yet, even as I try to accept, I still struggle. How can I, as one individual, stand in the face of the immensity of suffering that surrounds me?
I am watching my own life unfold, like an epic story that is slowly grinding to a halt. Seventy years of humanity’s evolution toward an uncertain end, without even the comfort of knowing what the final chapter holds.
And perhaps this is just the process of aging—the realization that the world is hurtling toward something unspeakable, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. I sometimes wonder if the suffering around me is merely the manifestation of my own projections, the workings of my subconscious mind, or if it is something larger, something collective, that we are all unconsciously contributing to.
Yesterday, I lost my beloved kitten, Yoda. My daughter cried, her tears a raw expression of the pain we all feel when something precious is taken away. I was reminded again of letting go, the lesson that life keeps repeating: nothing lasts forever.
As I reflect on the global violence spreading through India, Syria, Palestine, and beyond, I can’t help but feel that we are all locked in this dance of ignorance and violence, moving in circles of hate and destruction. The Dark Side of the Moon comes to mind, with its haunting lyrics:
"Us, us, us... and them, them, them... Black, black, black and Blue, blue, blue blur... Who knows who is who... Down, down, down and out..."
Is this the reality of our existence? Are we trapped in cycles of greed, hate, and delusion? Am I, as an individual, somehow responsible for all the suffering that surrounds me? Could this suffering be a projection of my own mind, a result of my inability to fully understand or detach from the world’s anguish?
J. Krishnamurti said, “We can’t change the world, but we can change ourselves.” But how do we change when most of humanity is blind to what’s happening? We live in a time when the survival of the fittest is no longer the driving force; now, we are gripped by the cycle of killing for the sake of power, for the sake of dominance.
I fear for my children and their future. How do I find peace in the face of such uncertainty? The future seems bleak, overshadowed by political manipulation and environmental collapse. Yet, in moments of quiet, I remind myself that change begins with me. Acceptance. Detachment. A shift in consciousness.
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