Physical pain is the one reality with which one cannot negotiate. It is the ultimate bully, in your face, in your body. It awakens one in the morning and puts one to sleep at night. It is not philosophical, cannot be reasoned with, does not go away unless it decides to go away. In that respect perhaps it has an educational purpose. We who have been so in charge of our lives, doing whatever it is that we have wanted to do, are now so not in charge at all. Pain has taken over, dictating to us what we can do and what we can't, even regulating our day, telling us when we can act and when we can't. Hating the pain, resisting it, fighting it makes it worse. The pain is in the body. To act like it is not there and try to push through it in spite of it only causes the body to break down more, causing still more pain. Of course, one might take various drugs to lessen or mask the pain, however, they create their own kind of physical pain.
My wife's pain is far, far more severe and disabling that mine. I don't suffer all the time; she does. And it is in her body. At a Zen Buddhist discussion group, this became the topic of the conversation: whether pain is real and what causes pain. Apparently, the Buddha said that physical pain in the body is real and that there are no ways to make it go away; it must simply be borne and experienced as it is. He said that it passes, however, I say that one's own life may pass first. Except for the one Zen "priest" who acknowledged the reality of physical pain and our powerlessness over it, every other person in that room denied its reality, saying that it comes from the mind, from one's thinking. When in severe physical pain, one cannot think, much less meditate. Rather, one is occupied by the pain, which is different than being occupied by thoughts, by thinking. When I am in pain, I am with the pain; I feel it. At this point I respect it, though pain, unlike thoughts, is not like a cloud in the sky obscuring the sun; rather, it is as a red-hot anvil placed in one's body. Pain of this kind has its own mind, which is not ours. One learns to respect this single-mindedness of the body itself, realizing that it is the indomitable source of pleasure and of the survival instinct itself.
Pain also has the effect of causing one to move away from the physical life urge, and identification with the physical body. For myself, I live to dream. For those in very severe pain, the pain is so extreme that they must sleep. Paradoxically, it puts them to sleep, during which the pain, for a time, is gone. I dream dreams of significance; uplifting "spiritual" dreams of insight, understanding, humor, love and, finally, context, in which I am shown the purpose and place of pain. Those in severe pain disidentify from life in the body and are readily prepared to leave it when the time comes. It is much better to have such an awareness before one dies; it is much less of a shock, yes, but it also leads one to search in the appropriate places for the necessary information pertaining to the purported circumstances following dearth, before one dies. A word to the wise.
Pain in this view may be seen as a friend, even an ally. However, such a view held too strongly, leads to an avoidance of life, if not a rejection of it. For me, like is simply too beautiful to be avoided or rejected. My wife, my children, the trees, the wind are just incredible in their beauty; they take my breath away. Pain sometimes takes my breath away as well. Pain also develops compassion for those who suffer; one feels the pain of all beings. And one knows the despair, which is not simply physical pain, that accompanies pain, aging, and the breakdown of the body. And Buddhist says that life is suffering, that desire is suffering. It is a suffering we willingly choose, for initially, for most of us, in our youth the pleasure far outweighs the pain. Even now, for me, the pleasure of life's beauty far outweighs its pain, though the pain does become palpable, particularly as one opens up to the world, to life, to the hearts, the being of others.
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