The following is an excerpt from 'The New Manhood,' a book by Australian author and psychologist, Steve Biddulph. The book is very helpful in understanding and navigating the elements of a man's life. Men around the world (and most women) would benefit from Steve's insight.
Life is hard
What our parents, teachers, and the TV in the corner all emphasise, every second of every day, is that things can be managed. That a cruisy and smooth life is possible. And not just possible, but something you should actively and relentlessly pursue. Just 'buy this, maintain that, insure that, save this, plan that', make good choices, and you will be okay. This isn't wrong to teach, or to attempt, so long as you understand that it will never be enough.
What you have to understand is - you won't be okay. It may be possible to completely cut yourself off from life and reduce any kind of risk, but even then - who knows! Many things that make up a good life - being involved in the world, loving people, caring about what happens - expose you to risk and hardship. Worthwhile things are hard. And they are risky. Sickness and random injury will affect you and/or those you love. Deaths will happen, along with bad luck on a personal or planetary scale. You can't prevent this.
You have to make a choice. If 'easy' is your criterion, expect to be bored. If full and rich living is your goal, expect some pain. You can prepare for this, and triumph over it - not all at once, but as you accumulate more wisdom and experience. You can do this by taking your sense of yourself beyond these ups and downs. By resting in the ultimate joy of being alive, and not following the ins and outs/ups and downs with your whole heart, you will be able to step back from even your own heartbreaks. Richard Rohr puts it like this:
Hard and soft, difficult and easy, pain and ecstasy, do not eliminate one another, but actually allow each other. They bow back and forth like dancers, although it is harder to bow to pain and failure.
What he means is that our emotions are based in the relative. Even little children notice this. The ebb and flow of joy and sorrow, the seasons of life, the necessity of pain and suffering, are profoundly important to understand. The Book of Ecclesiastes in the Hebrew Bible contains one of the most moving pieces of writing in human literature: 'For every thing there is a season... a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance.' When we grasp the transience of all these things, we become free.
When pain stops, we feel joy. Therefore, it is the pain that makes the joy possible. Kahlil Gibran says, 'The deeper that sorrow carves into our being, the more joy we can contain.' When we understand this up/down pendulum, we can stop trying to freeze things in one place, since that will never happen. We can place our peace of mind somewhere that is not dependent on fickle emotion. Emotions are important - we have to feel them and let them do their healing work. But they are not where we should locate our wellbeing.
In 2004 an earthquake of magnitude 9 occurred deep under the Indian Ocean. The earthquake continued for 8.3 minutes and was so violent that the whole planet moved back and forth by several centimetres. The uplift of the seabed sent waves rushing at over 500 Km an hour towards coastlines all around the Indian Ocean. On reaching shallow waters these waves slowed down but lifted to almost 30 metres in height and surged ashore, killing almost 230,000 people.
Five years later, in Haiti, another earthquake killed 250,000 more.
It's that kind of world. There is no fairness, no deals we can strike with God to make everything go as we want. Fasten your seatbelt, eat healthy food, and be wide awake, but don't assume that this will always keep you safe.
Get used to the idea that effort, disappointment, suffering and loss are all equal parts of human existence. Then you will not be shocked or disillusioned. You will get on with it in the hard times, look forward to the good times, and enjoy them when they come. Underneath it all, a quiet joy will grow, that to be alive is glorious, whichever way the wind is blowing.
In the lovely and liberating book, Tuesdays with Morrie, the protagonist is dying from muscular dystrophy. He is active, cheerful and nurturing of his students and friends to the very last. But he explains to the interviewer that for half an hour a day, first thing in the morning, he abandons himself to tears, grief and despair. Then, having gotten that over with, he gets on with living.
A child is swept and overcome by the emotions of the moment. A grown man does not base his assessment of things on something as fickle as his own emotions. He feels those emotions fully and deeply, but then lets them go. He is interested in what will help.