When we engage our lives as practice, encountering physical pain gives us an opportunity to study the difference between pain and suffering. And to be clear, there is a difference.
In this case, the pain looks like a throbbing in my left ear that amplifies my tinnitus tenfold and lets me hear my heartbeat in the painful throb.
The suffering might look like this:
- "uuuuuuunnnnnngggghhh when is it going to stop? uuuuunnnggh?" (as a continual 4 hour thought)
- the neck and upper back tension unconsciously held to accompany that thought. (so it won't get lonely)
- "This is Bullshit! I was just getting over a cold and now it is reasserting itself!"
- "Damn it! If I hadn't had that bicep surgery I'd still have sick days and could take time off to deal with this."
- "This should be a great day! Instead I have to deal with this crap!"
- "Ear drops? You'd think a doctor could just suction it out."
And on and on. Now, as in zazen, thoughts are going to arise. That is not a problem. But when these thoughts a fed, nurtured and given priority and weight, there is suffering.
When I was young, and long before I encountered Zen and a practice, I used to train in Tae Kwon Do. I can remember harnessing some kind of Star Trek, Mr. Spock mojo to try and separate myself from my physical pain as though I was observing it from outside. The pain still hurt just as much, but sometimes it seemed more manageable. Although it was still there I could work with it, rather than being something that consumed my consciousness.
Today I woke up with less ringing and less throbbing. For now at least, the big pain is gone. I offer my practice and intention to those who deal with chronic pain, but more so to those who deal with chronic suffering.