The trouble with life generally is that there is no benevolent carer to stop the motion, to end the circling with its frightening changes. It just keeps going. Yet, how humanity has wished there was such a cosmic carer! Behind life’s painful changes and the cry, “Why did G*d let this happen!"” or else “It's not fair!” is a not-so-hidden belief that there really ought to be a cosmic carer who will always fix things, stop the carousel, and make things right.
In reality, sometimes the carousel slows to manageable speeds, but often does not. In such a dualistic world—a invisible carer and a carousel spinning too fast—we are left with a cosmic struggle in which one side wins for a while (G*d is very good), and then the other (the Devil is very bad). Whether the carousel slows or speeds on any given day is a bit of a lottery.
In its more serious versions, the problem is called “theodicy”—how do you hold a belief in an all-powerful and good god, together with the presence of bad things in the real world? An all-powerful being who is good would be able to stop bad things from happening. But bad things happen, therefore the cosmic being is either not powerful enough to stop the bad or watches people suffer and, therefore, is not good in any meaningful sense. Sort that one out if you can! I have read most of the answers. Philosophers and theologians usually end up redefining one of the terms “all-powerful,” “good,” or “evil” to make it work. It is better to abandon the attempt and think differently—dare I say abandon the idea of an “external to the world, cosmic fixer”?
St. Paul, by all accounts, had a persistent and debilitating physical condition. I can hear him saying in the voice of a New York Jewish friend, “Enough already! Let me get off the carousel!” But the carousel kept turning. St. Paul, by all accounts, had a persistent and debilitating physical condition. Some speculate it may have been a form of chronic pain, epilepsy, or even a visual impairment. The specifics are uncertain, but what is clear is that it was a burden that he had to bear throughout his life. Many people today face similar struggles with chronic illnesses such as arthritis, diabetes, depression, or autoimmune disorders—in my case paroxysmal atrial fibrillation. These conditions can be invisible yet incredibly impactful, affecting every aspect of life. Like St. Paul, many individuals find themselves wishing for relief, a moment of respite from the relentless carousel of symptoms and limitations. The frustration of managing daily pain, fatigue, or other debilitating symptoms often leads to a sense of helplessness and longing for a cosmic intervention to make things right. In the end, St. Paul ceased to look for outward circumstances to change and looked inside. He came to the conclusion “My grace is sufficient for you...” He found an inner energy to deal with painful outer circumstances. For St. Paul, this was the inner experience of divine presence: nurturing, nourishing, clarifying, and comforting—but not a “cosmic fixer” changing the circumstances, not stopping the merry-go-round. St. Paul left behind the “external to the world, cosmic fixer” for an inner coping mechanism that made life bearable, and perhaps more than bearable. As Jesus taught, “the Realm of G*d is within you.” Finding the divine within—Christ in you, the Buddha nature, the Dao—is a different story.
How to make the inward turn? I think it would be foolish to offer a one-size-fits-all solution. The Way is found personally, and intensely so. As Zen friends remind us, "Only you can sit on your own cushion."
Three things I have been pondering that I'm finding helpful:
First, coming to terms with my past. When I look back on my youthful and early adult self, I see presumption, certainty, arrogance, and a host of other traits that I wish were not there! Coming to terms with the past is to acknowledge where we have been, and to be thankful for growth and change. But not to dwell on it. To acknowledge it, warts and all, and leave it.
Second, becoming adaptable for the future. It seems our world is changing rapidly—in our physical environment, in social and cultural shifts, in personal terms. Futurologists don't see any slowdown to the changes. Who knows what’s ahead? At the very least, we are getting older with all its personal changes and challenges—physically, psychologically, and spiritually. These changes seem to speed up. To find the divine within is to become adaptable to whatever turns the future holds. Whether the carousel speeds or slows, the divine within remains.
Third, finding balance right now. In Traditional Chinese Medicine, the two primary elements are fire and water—complementary opposites. The yang of fire causes the yin of water to dry up. The yin of water puts out the yang of fire. In balance, all is well. Too much fire and you dry up. Too much water and there is no heat or light. To find the divine within is to find balance.
Blessings to all today,
+Ab. Andy