It's like this.

There is something about a blank white Microsoft Word document page that is so comforting to me. As the cursor is flashing, waiting for me to type some words, there are endless possibilities for me to describe my latest experience. I actually thought I would start this piece a little differently, but I could not start typing without first expressing my deepest gratitude for this page, and how it patiently waits for me to tell my story.

I’ve recently been reliving many painful memories from childhood, ones where my sensitivity and emotions were suppressed in order to feel secure, wanted, and loved. It has been a vital process in tracing the origins of my inner critic. I’ve uncovered all the subtle ways I strive for self-improvement. If I try hard enough, I won’t ever have to suffer again. I won’t have to ever feel any physical or emotional pain.

The problem with this mentality is that I will always be running and trying desperately to reach a destination that does not exist. Depending on the flavor of a given experience – pleasant or unpleasant, safe or unsafe, wanted or unwanted, I try to make it last forever or push it away with everything I’ve got.

And you know what? I’m really tired. No, EXHAUSTED. I don’t want to be a defective reflection of another person’s dissatisfaction. I don’t have that much power. If my mother is unhappy, my daughter is misbehaving, my husband is angry, my patients are displeased, or my other family/friends are frustrated, I don’t want to believe that critical voice inside my head that tells me I am responsible for everything, that I must act swiftly to correct things.

I’ve even noticed that I strive in Buddhism. Hoping to become the perfect Buddhist to escape suffering and become eternally peaceful, I’ve spent the last 2 years reading books about Buddhism, psychology, or self-help. It’s almost comical to think I could be any better than I already am, or that there is even a place untouched by suffering. All that time and energy spent trying to find the perfect tool to my problem is now available for something else.

I sense that I will be building a new home. The roof will leak; the paint will crack; the plumbing will need adjustments over time. I will try to embrace all of these natural changes as vital parts of the process. I smile when I think of the foundation, a heart filled with compassion to hold all suffering. I even smile at the allowance for forgetting, and remembering again.

In the words of Ajahn Sumedho, “It’s like this.” Suffering is like this. Freedom is like this. Striving is like this. Non-striving is like this. It’s not a reward or punishment for doing the right or wrong thing. It’s the sky of awareness as clouds pass through. I can’t hold on to the clouds or push them away. I can understand that it’s the freezing rain, the warm sun, a cloudy dark day or a clear black night aglow with a full moon and stars.

It will change, and change is like this.