On finding the green pastures

As rocks scatter raucously into a wind-torn face, you reach for another foothold; The mountainous summit nears. Toiling and suffering through the grit of discomfort and pain, you sense in your heart-of-hearts that the destination is close at hand. Beyond the apex resides the lush, green valley of paradise. Following the constant burdens of life, the fearless and passionate labors in which you have endeavored, you shall finally obtain peace. Moreover, as the destination, this particular rest will endure, not tease as a fleeting moment in anticipation of more struggles and suffering.

In my own life, in my friends' and family's lives, in the clinical setting, such narratives and portrayals of life abound. In remaining transparent, I experience such a feeling likely as much as anyone else, maybe more. "Once dissertation is done; once grad school is behind me; once I repay these confounded loans, life will find resolution. Worries and constant pain will subside. Life will finally be as it should: endlessly blissful and utterly comfortable. Simply, put this ends my encounter with suffering."

Existential philosophers, psychologists, and other theorists of sorts differ in their discussion and portrayal of suffering. Some fail to discuss it. Some skillfully intertwine it within certain existential givens, such as death & mortality. Brave others, however, posit suffering as an existential given in itself, meriting thoughtful respect and contemplation. In other words, suffering is irresolvable, a dilemma necessitating a living-into rather than a resolving or bypassing-of. What I am trying to say is , perhaps the green pasture of relaxation and paradise fails to exist, at least within this existence. More on that another time, though....

Therapeutically journeying-through this life-given becomes complex, as the pained individual longingly gazes your way through tear-welling eyes, silently asking for a cure, for relief. In this situation, empty hands of helplessness (particularly from she/he whom was hired to help) appear as especially foreboding. So, then, what do we do?

Albert Ellis, a therapist certainly not of the existential bent, offered the therapeutic statement, "I may not be able to change this particular thing, but I can still live a good life anyway." Incidentally, existential psychologists adopted this sort of attitude, as it does, indeed, provide a living-into in spite of natural limitations of an earthly existence.

I get it. Still, while this makes moderate therapeutic sense, one encounters a dilemma upon the utterance of "good life." Any good existential thinker should pause upon such an ambiguous, or even leading, phrase. What does one indicate by a "good life?" Joy and pleasure? Comfort and painlessness? Careful how you tread, for once you erect the walls of the "good life" in such a manner, yourself or the individual with which you sit suddenly becomes constricted and herded in a certain direction. "Is this author/blogger mad?" you understandably inquire of me. "Happiness and comfort as the goals of life is just plain common sense," you urge. Yes, I agree. But dismissing the idea of a Divine as superstitious is also "common sense," and I would never propose one abandon the possibility of heavenly other-ness.

In truth, "common sense" merely exists as a fancy and shaming translation for "socially popular." With an air of punitive authority, "common sense" orders us to fall back in line. As such, in aiming toward the "good life" in spite of suffering one encounters an aporia (an irresolvable philosophical dilemma, one without solution). Take the hypothetical client sitting across from you, enduring agonizing and relentless emotional suffering: you yearn to save them, ease them away from the pain, yes? Yet, as you allow their lived experience of existence to unfold, you find that it is precisely their absurd (as in, unexplainable and unearned) blessedness in life that invites torment. With financial security, relative health, and opportunity, this individual benefits from a seemingly bountiful life. However, in a world where animals are bred, within cages for the duration of their life, only to be butchered and served as a meal... this individual feels, in the most real sensation imaginable, undeserving of "the good life."

Well, Albert Ellis, what now? This individual is irrational, maybe even psychotic, not your problem? Or, on the contrary, does this individual experience reality and throwness with such heart that they cannot help but to care? So, then, what life are they to live now? What is "help" for this individual?

Throw in the idea of Divine creation, and we have a real pot-luck going. But alas, let us leave that for another time...