It was a rough morning. My heart has yet to recover from the experience of George Floyd and the racial injustice and protests surrounding it, and two other pieces of news piled on. One of a pregnant wild elephant in India, which died after being fed a firecracker-filled pineapple. It wasn’t by accident; it was deliberate. Another of seven Singaporean men who drugged and raped four of their wives over the course of eight years (2010 – 2018). I wasn’t aware this happened till my friend shared a petition sparked by it.
I felt sick, so sick. Beneath the sadness and anger, I was sickened by the horrors of humanity. I cannot fathom the minds of those who commit such sins. I believe every soul is precious and that as humans, when we act out, we sin from a place of suffering. This is my anchor which guides me towards practicing compassion. Yet after reading these news, it has become extremely difficult, almost impossible to find my ground. I do not know how to make sense of my experience.
What has the world become? Has it gotten worse? Despite countless lessons from history and technological advancements, have we neither learnt nor evolved as human beings? To think we are even developing artificial intelligence to mimic humans. Are we even at the stage to program ethical rules and algorithms for robots when we have not even resolved our own ethical and moral problems? It doesn’t even seem like we’re close to resolving them. Science has carved out new frontiers for us, prolonged our lives, discovered planets, we’ve progressed biologically and materially, but what about our souls? Have we given sufficient attention to our virtues and inherent goodness? No matter the era, horrifying acts, manifested differently, are repeated ad nauseum.
Is this the struggle of Mankind? Is this the suffering that Man has to undergo? I ponder over the privileged life I’ve led thus far; the conditions that have enabled me to live in an environment where I could judge acts as revolting. This decency I have, is it a given? If I was raised in a culture where violence is condoned, where I learnt to use a rifle at the age of five; or a culture where women have no rights, will I still view these acts with the same disdain? Would I be able to see the ugliness in them? I never knew what a blessing it is to know and recognise beauty. The truth I thought I had known falls apart, and my world crumbles.
For a brief moment, I felt the deep pain of humanity. Was I afforded a glimpse of the world’s suffering that Buddha saw? Suffering is an ineluctable condition of living. I understood this truth but in that moment, I experienced it. I became acutely aware of the shared suffering we have to undergo as a species being. It was as though a window opened, and I felt the pain of others pouring in. Perhaps this is humility. The inner knowingness of my connectedness to the wider web of living beings. This is my place in the world—I am a drop in and of the ocean. I make up the ocean and I’m made of the ocean.
Perhaps the lesson I’m meant to learn is to recognise and treasure my own experiences and life, and make the most out of it. Before jumping into what I can or want to do, to consider what I want to be. I want to be awakened to both the horrors and holiness of Mankind. I want to know human nature, in all its facets and extremities. How might I learn without armoring or hardening, without building a fortress around my heart? Let’s take a breath here.
Breathe.
Remembering my teacher’s reminder: when it’s too much, pause and breathe. Slowly and gently. I don’t have to take in everything at once. Take what I can, sense where my edge is. No pushing needed, just gentle allowing. This is being with what is.
What is living? What is the truth of humanity? What is this enigmatic concoction of beast and divinity that holds the power to bring about despair and destruction, hope and salvation? Many in my lineage have wandered into the deep waters to capture its essence, so what might I uncover for myself?
To know the purpose of life and the meaning of suffering, I first begin by dropping the shields protecting my own pain and suffering. I surrender. I will then confront and live through the experiences I have skipped through or dismissed. I will hold my flaws in loving kindness. I will take a step closer to truth each time, and when a layer crumbles, grieve and rise again.
As I pour these tears out, I feel an opening within me—strength and groundedness arising. Energy emanating from my core; my heart, spacious and light; my vision, clear and bright. I will hold my preciousness, and keep writing.