Difficulties

“Every aspect of tragedy must be the bones 

supporting the rest of life, 

What I cling to…is the belief that difficulties are what makes it honorable and interesting to be alive.”

                                                                                  Florida Scott-Maxwell (84)

                                                                                       FromThe Measure Of My Days (published in1968)

“Hold to what is difficult”— Rainer Marie Rilke

It was the words of Rilke, “Hold to what is difficult,” that jumped off the page, and started an avalanche in my being. There was some kind of mysterious cascading sensation that made me buy that book, in that unknown bookstore, on that day. I didn’t know it at the time, but that moment presaged my luck.

At the time, I knew I was taken by Rilke’s words, I thought of them primarily as good advice from someone far smarter than I. Little did I know that those words were prophetic, referring to my coming life, and the most incredible form of grace that comes into all of our human lives.

I am rendered almost speechless by the elegant democracy of hardship. It enters even the most successful person’s life, there is no privilege that is capable of forestalling tragedy, suffering and difficulty. All of us are in that particular crucible. It is the difficult degree of challenge that brings out the incredible humanity that is available within us.

I’m not just tooting my own disabled horn here. Life seems to have devised a devilishly effective means for evoking our potential. It starts with what appears tragic, and calls for the response that turns pain and insecurity into Creation. There is a kind of alchemy here that goes way beyond human intention to something mysterious, dark, and grossly compelling. What hurts and overwhelms is what teaches and creates best. My soul didn’t see that coming, or perhaps it did, the avalanche started somewhere.

Now I consider myself “Lucky” not because I no longer am in the hands of difficulty, but because difficulty seems to have a permanent grip on me. Being disabled is horribly edifying. Weirdly, perhaps dementedly (I am 70 after all), I now consider the “good life” to be the one hardship has wrought. Wisdom doesn’t come with long life, I now think, it comes with a blessedly difficult one. 

Nothing seems to sensitize us as well as genuinely difficult initiatory ordeals. These are the painfully dubious experiences no shaman can evoke, and no workshop, or lifelong practice can prepare us for. It is the natural hardship of existence, the difficulty of being truly human, that draws out of each of us our true character. One cannot fake pleasure and equanimity in the face of the natural workings of hardship and difficulty. Grace is wickedly accurate.

You don’t have to go looking for difficulty. There is no practice for becoming. Life handles it. Spiritual aspirations don’t provide immunity. One cannot hope lightening will fall on your head.  Difficulty comes in its own way, uniquely suitable for each of us. 

Then we have only our response.  The world smiles when hardship makes us the strangely receptive beings we can be.

De-patterning

This is a complex topic, because it addresses a fundamental attribute of being human, something we are good at. In short, it is a strength, that when carried too far, is a profound difficulty, which must be overcome. You’ll see what I mean as I proceed. 

Over the years, as I have been doing a variety of things related to aging, I’ve noticed that all old people are not the same. The vast majority of older people are caught up in what I call ruts, that is, routines that have always been successful at bringing them comfort and safety. They are the ones I call ‘merely older.’ They, to my eyes, are rut-bound — captive of patterns of their own making. 

I have also noted, and given special attention too, the minority of old folks who are elders, or on the way toward elderhood. They have ruts too, but are actively trying to identify, and get out of them. For them, the patterns of a lifetime hinder their freedom and creativity. As you might guess, these few, are more in the moment, and more original. It is to them, I look, for examples of what’s uniquely possible in we humans.

Here, I’m not so concerned about the plight of old people, as I am about the human tendency to adopt patterns that become ruts — which trap and diminish us. You see, our very development seems to depend upon our ability to adopt good routines, but our aspiration to be free, depends upon our ability to break out of them. Fail to adopt optimal patterns, and one never becomes coherent and recognizable, but stay too long with any pattern and risk becoming rigid and inflexible. 

This is vexing challenge — one that befits an organism as complex as we humans. But, in my estimation, it accounts for the limited number of true elders in our midst. People don’t realize how dangerous their own capabilities are. The successful routine that guaranteed love, attention, safety, or self-worth, ultimately becomes the habitual and binding rut that enslaves imagination and hardens attitudes into prejudices. Supremacy of all sorts lives in the cherished ruts of yesteryear.

Breaking these old patterns, and climbing out of old ruts, is an essential component of being human. This is an endeavor that is always difficult, and essential. It is comparable to molting. A significant part of the difficulty involved, is that going beyond these old patterns, always includes periods of vulnerability. Exposure to the unknown is part of the deal. Enculturated humans in particular are allergic to this kind of exposure — making the ruts (routines) all that more alluring.

Rutting, of all sorts is very human — as is escaping the ruts. That is why children like to get dizzy, and why many people like altered states. Each provides a way to experience the world anew, from a brief, rut-free zone. None of these avenues, as powerful (like mind-altering substances) as they are, provides the innate confidence that comes with discovery. This is an on-board natural skill. It is part of our human resilience — a part, which needs to be exercised, to be believed.

De-patterning, escaping our self-made ruts, is as natural and essential as all forms of birth. We have no choice but to practice de-patterning, but whether we get good enough at it, depends upon willingness (courage) and insight (understanding the necessity of exposure) to practice it throughout a lifetime. Because this is so, it is easy to see that elders grow, like the rest of us, through the breaking of old, formerly binding patterns. De-patterning is another form of emancipation. De-patterning is wisdom — unleashed.