Existential melancholy, bravery and the Hero's Journey
Part 1
For some of us, it takes courage to be happy; it even takes work. I’m not talking about waking up early to exercise, eating healthily, and getting good sleep, although those things can be helpful and impactful.
I’m talking about a life of peace and contentment, deeply rooted in a knowing that regardless of what I’m experiencing, I am—and all is—well. That may sound too good to be true, but it’s not, and countless people throughout time on this planet have managed to cultivate this deep sense of peace. I am one of them, and I want to help others do the same.
We seem to be in a constant battle for our peace. We are subjected to cosmic energies that impact us every day as astrological aspects change. Our chemical bodies have needs, and we often forget how at the mercy of our vehicles we are. As someone with poor eating habits, I can find myself in a state of annoyance over any inconsequential thing…then I remember I haven’t eaten in a while. Or once a month, when for a few days before my period I feel like everything in the world is irritating and stupid, I struggle with not unleashing my fury on anyone in my proximity and find myself reaching for the tranquillisers. Sometimes, the pain and discomfort of the body is more complex and not to be fixed as easily as by having a snack, or popping a benzo. Illness, chronic pain, and physical disabilities can make life feel like a grinding challenge.
Beyond the body there is the mind which arguably contributes the most towards our suffering, filled with fears and projections that send us into panicked spirals, keeping us in a constant state of fight or flight. Then there are other people, interpersonal struggles and relationships which complicate things even more. On top of that, there’s the world, full of pain and suffering, begging to be witnessed, to be the source of outrage. So many opportunities to feel ill at ease in this convoluted universe.
Growing up, I spent so much of my time in a state of psychological suffering. At worst I experienced an acute and paralyzing sense of hopelessness, and when not quite as severe, a latent but pervasive kind of boredom and seeming inability to enjoy my life was the norm. My life, which was pretty good by most standards, provided no obvious source of my misery. I had all my needs met—roof over my head, food on the table, a loving family, privileged, conventionally attractive, thin, able-bodied, and educated— so there really seemed to be little reason to be unhappy, but unhappy I was.
I, like so many people who suffer from depression, believed there was a materialist explanation for my suffering. Either there was something wrong with my brain and it needed to be fixed, helped, medicated, or there was something wrong with the world and my deep melancholy was a natural response to the brokenness I perceived outside of me. After years of exploration and epistemological inquiry, I arrived at something that needed years of experiencing suffering to discover: peace. My struggle gave me a profound ability to connect with others who suffer similarly in the most beautiful and compassionate way. For that I am grateful, and I’m thankful too for every day spent in anguish and for the grace that kept me alive.
Not to romanticize or fetishize suffering, but it does seem to be the most powerful catalyst for growth and expansion that we, as humans who crave comfort and stasis, can experience. This concept is an old and archetypal one: the hero is called to embark on an adventure and, through challenge, experiences transformation and atonement. Upon returning home they are ladened with gifts from all they have experienced. This is a core theme of a human life, this is the psychospiritual journey that we are all invited to undertake. The adventure is a figurative one that calls to us to go inward. The journey is to the center of the self, peeling back the layers, discovering hidden truths. Interrogating fears, healing wounds—these are the demons and monsters dealt with in our stories.
Why embark on this journey? Why undertake this hefty task? I would argue that while there is an option to defer accepting the invitation, the pay-off in postponing the journey pales in comparison to the bountiful, gift-laden experience in store for you, should you choose to accept it. Life is full of challenges either way, but if you have the option to have a bit more fun, choice, and magic—why not?
What we’re embracing more and more in our culture is the idea that we do not see the world how it is, we see the world how we are. If you only have your own consciousness through which to experience reality, you change yourself, you change the world: you heal yourself, you heal the world. This might sound like an exaggeration, and this topic is abstract in nature, but it is really quite logical. If you believe yourself to be no good and the world to have it out for you, that is the kind of experience you will have of reality. In every encounter you will seek to confirm this belief about yourself and the world. We are all full of these kinds of beliefs. Often they’re buried deep within the subconscious and require some excavation to uncover. We adopt many of these beliefs through our families and school or the media, and we form them as coping mechanisms to survive in a world where love is experienced as conditional, and rejection or abandonment feel like ever present existential threats.
Think about yourself as a spiky object moving through your life, covered in the thorns you’ve needed to grow in order to protect yourself from painful or dangerous things. These sharp extrusions, once upon a time, did protect you. As a child they kept you safe, but now they just catch on to things and wind up getting you hooked on interpersonal conflict, internal struggles with anxiety and fear etc. We all have the chance in our lives to smooth out our jagged selves so as to move through the world smoothly, with ease, in flow, not catching on things, enjoying gliding through the privilege that is a human life in all its beauty and challenge. Of course we will encounter difficulties, but we learn to face them with equanimity or a sense of spaciousness. Buddhists call this unattachement. With a bit of practice, judgement free curiosity, and a little compassion, this state is possible for anyone to achieve.
Look out for part 2 where I explore how to achieve this state.
