The Absolute Nature of Suffering

We tend to judge our own suffering--to squelch it under the pressure of "bigger" suffering we attribute to others "less fortunate."

But suffering is absolute, and the acknowledgment of this makes space for all of it. For the joy, too. For every one of us. For the extension of compassion inward and outward, without limits.


My suffering is its own entity. It doesn't have a number on a scale. It is not relative to anyone else's suffering. It just is. Like your suffering.

The suffering of the man I saw in clinic recently, too, is absolute. It is not less or more than any other human being who has been physically and mentally tortured. Or not tortured. Running from his home country. Or safe at home with family. These are not experiences for us to judge from the outside, only to honour for their unknown insides.


Years ago I would have pitied him. These days I have the courage to stay present to his story. To empathize. To offer what I can and let it go for today. To trust that this matters. To let myself matter, even though the nasty in my head tells me my troubles are petty next to his.

You see, I still have to meet myself in the face of the unthinkable suffering of the gentle man in the blue pyjamas covered in scars. Because if I don't, I will disappear, and I'll be less able to support him or anyone else.

So I breathe his suffering into my being. I breathe out a silent message that I believe in his immense spirit. As I give him a prescription for pain medication, my hand is infused with respect and compassion--not pity, which makes him other, but empathy which makes us connected in our humanity.


Suffering is absolute. I hold this out as an offering to those I care for professionally and those I love. And to myself. Because only this truth, and nothing less, nurtures genuine compassion.