When I first encountered the phrase - Pain's Inevitable, Suffering's Optional, rather than overanalyzing it, for example, dismissing it as idiosyncratic wordplay, pollyannish pop psychology or an insufficiently nuanced Buddhist stance, I gave it the benefit of the doubt. After all, pain can be avoidable or unavoidable, constructive or destructive, transformative or deformative, existential (life-giving and relationship -enhancing) or neurotic (life-detracting and relationship-diminishing) and so on. We can also distinguish between pain that orignates soulfully, physically, emotionally, mentally, socially, spiritually or however, although each of these pains intertwines with and influences each of the others. In looking for the truth in "Pain's Inevitable, Suffering's Optional," | began with a rewording, grounded in the distinction between avoidable and unavoidable pain (and suffering). I mentioned the distinction between existential andneurotic pain above, Another helpful distinction (there are many) would be that between depression, which orients us to the past, and anxiety, which orients us to the future. The wisdom of "living in the now," alone, will not rid us of depression and anxiety. It is necessary, but not sufficient. It must be coupled with the wisdom of the Serenity Prayer and related practices, such as are cultivated by Twelve Step programs and other great spiritual traditions. Living in the now presupposes that we have taken the necessary steps indicated by existential pain, steps which are necessary to preserve and enhance and heal our lives and relationships, whether that pain's rooted in the past or oriented toward the future. The example I like to use to distinguish between existential and neurotic pain examines one's responses to a train bearing down on them. Whether one is in the front row of a movie theater or walking down some railroad tracks, the sights and sounds of an oncoming train will, in some measure, elicit the same autonomic responses from one's sympatheticnervous system, what psychologists refer to as "fight or flight," which we experience from a sudden adrenaline rush. An example of an existential response, in this scenario, would include jumping off the railroad tracks into the nearby ditch. A neurotic response would include jumping out of one's seat and running for the movie theater's exits. A psychotic response would include remaining on the railroad tracks, wrongly imagining one's ina movie theater or dreaming. With most any emotional pain, which can be a nonrational provider of information regarding our inner milieu and/or external environs, our behavioral repertoire includes manifold existential, neurotic and psychotic responses. This nonrational info needs to be supplemented by our rational faculties. Many of the therapeutic benefits that we realize from healthy spiritual disciplines are derived from our enhanced abilities to discem the difference between our existential versus neurotic responses to pain, differences not always as clear-cut as our railroad tracks example. Those responses willinvolve a depression or an anxiety, rooted in the past or future, although sometimes very much in the present, too, the alleviation of which won't require our changing or accepting reality, won't require any courage or serenity, but will, instead, involve the wisdom of seeing a given reality differently, thinking about it differently, experiencing it differently, responding to it differently. Ordinarily, fresh perspectives come from more than personal introspection and will be gifted, too, from interpersonal sharing and communal discerning, as we glean pearls of wisdom from the healing art of storytelling. Sometimes, when sharing our stories, nothing can grow human compassion and solidarity faster than a heartfelt "Me, too!". Often, nothing can elicit a combination of laughter and tears better than aconsoling "Me, too!". As common as our neurotic impulses may be, though, the coping strategies of our spiritual disciplines are aimed much further. Beyond ridding ourselves of avoidable neurotic pain, what are we to do with the existential pain from the past, present or future,when wisdom discems we can and will have no role in changing a painful reality and will, instead, be needing serenity and not courage? It is this juncture where the difference between pain and suffering might come into the sharpest relief, where Richard Rohr's definition of suffering, as that pain we experience froma loss of control, makes so much sense. Nothing more directly bears on and reveals precisely where in our lives it is that we most urgently need to practice "letting go." In each life, we experience a sphere of concern. Within that sphere there is a smaller sphere, our sphere of influence. Within the sphere of influence is an even smaller sphere, which is our sphere of control. These spheres of concern extend out to all arenas of human value and extend forward and backward in time (with obvious implications for such as trying to control the past?). Most of life's suffering results from that inescapable lack of overlap between our spheres of control and influence, which can seem relatively small, with ourspheres of concern, which can seem giganormous! Many of our coping strategies will, therefore, involve our attempts (often futile, at other times well advised) to grow our spheres of control and influence and/or to shrink our spheres of concern. Surrendering to a Higher Power entails many different beliefs. For starters, it's the beginning of our realization that our concerns are shared and are not ours alone. Additionally, it includes the recognition that, so often, there are forces in our lives, personal as well as seemingly impersonal, that can rather reliably and constructively influence those people with whom we are most deeply concerned. The primary obstacles to this surrender thus include: 1) our incredulity that anyone else is equally concerned (including God) 2) our difficultly imagining that anyone else's power is really higher (including God). Thus singer-songwriter James Taylor's quip (my paraphrase from a weak memory) that half the people in 12 Step programs are simply coming to therecognition that "there really is a God but it's not me (or that substance or process)" and the other half (many codependents) already know that but are still desperately trying to resign from His position, which they've held far too long! Surrendering to a Higher Power doesn't relieve us of the responsibilities of the past and future vis a vis our existential pains (e.g. doing an inventory or self examen, making amends, asking forgiveness, etc) but it can ameliorate any depression and anxiety rooted in such neuroses as might derive from our imagining and behaving as if we were, sounds silly I know, the Higher Power. Thomas Merton reminds us that being a Christian doesn't mean we won't experience sorrow or pain, or bad things, but it does mean that we believe that those things shall never become the worst. Those unavoidable pains from life's inevitable losses, for the believer, shall not become the worst. I say this often because it bears repeating --- that most people, whatever the depth of their losses or nature of their tragedies, do seem so very resilient and do learn, inspite of it all, to live again, love again, even laugh again. We can thus take hope, not inordinately fear life's losses, knowing that our natural heritage includes an almost inevitable emotional healing and that our supernatural destiny includes glories of such a weight that they are measurable on a scale on which life's sorrows couldn't even register. This, too, shall pass. Let us, therefore, not act as those who have no hope, great hope for this life, immense hope for the next! Finally, the problem of human pain, which is immense, and suffering, which is enormous, often unnecessarily afflicts believers with doubts. That is beyond the scope of this consideration. Because it might provide some measure of consolation, at least to those who know and trust me, I will only say that there is no so-called logical or existential "problem of evil" philosophically or theologically for properly nuanced and sufficiently predicated God-concepts, which are all suitably coherent. Such apologetics apply to how Christianity and other traditions approach God and notions of evil in general and arecalled defenses, Apologetics which reason regarding, more or less, specific experiences of evil are called theodicies. The best theodicies must retain an element of mystery. I am sympathetic to the notion that we must be careful in crafting theodicies because they can be blasphemous and arrogant, imagining HOW God's working His will, callous and cruel, dismissive of the enormity of human pain, the immensity of human suffering. It should suffice to know THAT She's working Her will, even though it's beyond our comprehension to discem how that could possibly be so in a given case. Beyond any logical or evidential problems of evil, which needn't preoccupy us, the existential problem of what we're going to do about takes practical precedence. How will we minister consolation, healing, reconciliation, empowerment? suffering and pain, problem of evil, theodicy, logical problem of evil, evidential problem of evil, existential problem of evil, 12 Steps, codependency, existential pain, neurotic pain, serenity prayer, depression, anxiety