On the Pointlessness of Suffering


I can’t remember the last time I was this frantically, ridiculously, overwhelmingly busy.

It’s been this way for the last few days (hence the relative silence) and it’s going to be this way for the entire week ahead. My days are blocked solid all the way until Saturday, and all I can think about is: how am I going to make it?

I haven’t been on survival mode for a long time, and I’ve forgotten how thoroughly anxious and nerve-wracking the experience can be. It took me two hours to fall asleep last night from sheer agitation, and when I woke up a few hours later, the same agitation prevented me from going back to sleep.

Just one more day of sleep deprivation will be enough to turn me into a nervous wreck.

As with all undesirable circumstances that happen to me these days, the question I have to ask myself is: what am I supposed to be learning from all this? It can’t be rank coincidence that all my major deadlines and engagements happen to occur in the exact same week.

Is it a lack of foresight? I don’t think so (my calendar’s planned all the way until the end of 2012).

Is it an inability to refuse? I don’t think so either (I’ve been turning down a fair number of things).

Is it truly one of those rank coincidences whose unfortunate consequences we can bear only by designating it a “character-building event”? I think this could be the case in this instance, which brings me back to my original question: what am I supposed to be learning from all this?

Maybe it’s having grace under pressure; maybe it’s asking for help; maybe it’s seeing the big picture; and maybe—just maybe—it’s living with pointless suffering.

On this last one, as with many other things, I’ve got a whole lot to learn.

Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.

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