The Suffering of Choice

At work, there is always a question that gnaws away in the background, and that is, what to do first? It is sometimes tricky to juggle different priorities, and I am sure that others experience such a thing in their working lives as well. For example, many teachers I interact with tell me that their school lives suffer from such a tight and cramped workload, where there is very little opportunity to apply the theories or principals they might be learning in the process of doing graduate studies. They have to decide how they are going to incorporate each theory or practice they learn in formal studies of education into their real classrooms. One even related how it often felt as though trying to adopt a new educational project or initiative sometimes seems like an ‘all or nothing’ approach, which seems daunting for busy teachers. It often ends up that the teacher compromises between what she wants to adopt wholeheartedly, and the little time she might be able to spare in her classroom life.

Of all the eight forms of suffering I had learned in the Buddhist class I had attended last Saturday, I don’t think there is a suffering called ‘the suffering of choice’. In fact, when I check my handy notes, I see the sufferings of birth, old age, sickness, death, bereavement (loss), hatred, desire and lack of control. But I don’t see ‘choice’ here, though I have a feeling that maybe there should be a new category for it! On the other hand, much of the pain of making a choice could relate to having too many desires, expectations or wishes to control specific outcomes, and these fall under the suffering categories here.

When I talk about suffering of choice, I am probably describing a kind of existential anguish that comes from being a conscious being, and having several thoughts and possibilities to entertain. It seems that in not having a choice, one can rest in the belief that it isn’t in one’s capacity to decide differently. In that case, one can always find an authority to blame when things don’t go well. But I can’t think of a situation where a person does not have a modicum of choice available to them, even if that choice only relates to an attitude change. I think it was Victor Frankl who described in his book The Doctor and the Soul that even when we lack ability to act on what we wish, we can still adjust our attitude to meet the present situation. But the subtle pain of choice is always there. I think that pain takes the form of a kind of void: nothing I do or decide to do ever closes off my possibilities, so there is always something open, a kind of risk or vulnerability to the moment that cannot be foreclosed. The other painful part of choice is that it does involve a sacrifice of some kind: I can never do everything that  is within my range of possibility. In that sense, each moment curtails the infinite possibility. And then, I need to define myself in that moment.

One thing that helps me from last weekend’s talk is that pain is a real and core part of the meaning of existence. I recall the Venerable remarking that life is not about securing the most happiness or joy, but, rather, it involves facing karmic retribution and making new vows in place of that. If I sometimes feel that life is about trying to keep oneself afloat, that feeling I have is the result of the past and present karma of believing there is a separate self to maintain. So I need to work through that, and there is no short cut to understanding that there is no permanent, enduring self that chooses. From that perspective, it is okay if one does feel pressure or the pain of choosing. But I think the difference between the existential and Buddhist approach is that existentialists assign suffering to the pain of a permanent selfhood. According to some kinds of existential thinking, I can never get away from the ‘me’ that chooses, no matter how hard I try to avoid making choices. But in Buddhism, even that self needs to be uprooted or questioned. Otherwise, I will always keep thinking that this ‘self’ will be okay as long as I surmount ‘this hurdle’ or ‘that problem’. It is like a criminal on death row who says to God, “please spare me just this one more time…I promise not to commit any crime again if you have mercy on me.” It is this ‘if only’ thinking that makes me believe that there is salvation just around the corner if I just make a good bargain with the universe. But if one lets go of that for a moment and realizes that the struggle and suffering come from cherishing an illusion of a permanent self , then all the vexations will transform into things that are light and manageable. I am no longer then striking deals with the universe to spare this small self that I am always trying to protect. I am then able to breathe a bit more and focus more on this present moment, not worrying excessively about what hasn’t yet happened, or a choice that hasn’t been made.