There are no big deals.

I learned from my girlfriend recently that among animals, fear is the quickest instinct to learn and the hardest to unlearn. Seems to me that characteristic is true of us all. I've been having a lot of spiritual struggles lately related to this. What is it about the human condition that makes suffering our greatest teacher? If we're wired to seek some (supposedly) benevolent entity outside of ourselves for guidance, then why did said entity allow suffering to come into being in the first place?

I guess I have to take a step back and examine what it is that suffering has done for me. Probably the single biggest axiom I've learned is this:

"There are no big deals."

Growing up, everything was a big deal. Even the smallest mistake - a dish left unwashed in the sink, a chore undone - was met with the most serious consequences. One thing remainined in its wake: crippling anxiety. I did not have abusive parents, but what I did have were parents also raised to be anxious themselves, passed down and passed on by those who came before them.

That anxiety has haunted me more or less since birth. I tried telling so many people people about how I felt, describe the gun-wrenching pain to them in a way that made sense. First my parents, who often told me simply "you just have to suck it up!" One of my greatest resentments I've had to face is that the ones closest to me were probably the poorest listeners - or at least what I interpreted to be poor listening. But how could they have known? Parents are closest to their children - if they're doing it right - which (as my father pointed out to me) makes it hard for them to clearly see exactly what might be wrong.

Then there were guidance counselors (useless), teachers (overworked, underpaid and unconcerned), and "friends." And then there were relationships. I could go on and on about my romantic relationships. When they work, they're amazing, and when they're bad...well, yeah. I then turned to religion, thinking perhaps that the reason for my suffering was the fact that I turned from God somehow. At first I found comfort there, and belonging. Sadly, I then uncovered a world of judgment, uncharitable opinions and polarizing politics, rooted in legalistic interpretation of religious dogma. Salvation was about numbers, attendance (they called it "accountability"), catch-phrases, buzzwords and keeping up appearances.

In fact, after attending Lollapalooza 1993, one of our field-staffers took me aside during youth group and told me that she didn't think Jesus would've gone with me. I knew instinctively that this was a point of view that didn't mesh with my beliefs AT ALL. I didn't realize it then, but I had become disillusioned with religion. (I would turn back to religion one other time in my life for some source of comfort, and would simply find more of the same.)

So I joined a band, and took refuge in the one thing that has *always* consistently provided me with solace and comfort: music.

Actually, I was already in a band - I just threw myself into it whole-heartedly this time. We found ourselves in a recording studio, and on day 3 of our studio session, I sat on a leather couch with my three friends and we listened as the fruits of our labor came out of huge studio monitors in the wall. I knew at that moment, at 21 years of age, that I'd found my place in the world. Not in college, not in my job, but right there in that recording studio. Sadly, A recording studio (at the time) was a prohibitvely expensive place to find a sense of balance in one's life. And the inner conflict between doing what I loved (music) vs. doing what I needed to do to provide for myself (work) and/or doing what looked good in the eyes of the world and my parents (finishing college) was an additional source of anxiety on top of everything else.

So in the end, I found better living through chemistry before I found healing, or solutions, or balance. I had developed two faces, a public face and a private face. The face I thought the world wanted to see, and the face that was really me - where everything was a "big deal." No one can exist in that condition indefinitely. Life catches up. It was at that point I began to learn about real suffering, and unmanageability.

So I may not understand why, or be able to accept the existence of suffering. But I know that today I have peace. Peace that comes through honesty, and reconciliation, and hope. Peace that comes through good health. And yes, peace that comes through MUSIC.
I have peace knowing that there are NO big deals.