Suffering is the only best way out of the comfort zone

Not going to lie—life after the operation has been anything but easy. My body feels like an unfamiliar shell, riddled with pain, discomfort, and a long list of chores just to keep it functioning. Cleaning wounds twice a day, feeding myself 3 meals a day through a tube for hours—it’s as though the simple act of living has become a full-time job.

At first, the weight of it all was crushing. Anger bubbled up inside me, relentless and raw. I hated the monotony, the constant adjustments, the loss of what once felt like a normal existence. And the thought that this might be my "forever"? That was the worst of it. It made me question how anyone could bear to live this way.

But then something shifted. It wasn’t dramatic or loud—just a flicker of awareness. I noticed my anger. Noticed how it twisted every thought into despair. It was like watching a storm in my mind, wild and destructive, but entirely self-made. And in that moment of clarity, I realized: Thank you, anger. Thank you for showing me what I’ve been holding onto. But I don’t need you anymore.

Sister Karen my endearing Buddhist friend, played a crucial role in this awakening. She reminded me gently but firmly that it’s not my situation causing the suffering—it’s my mind. “It’s your thinking,” she said, “that’s making you fed up.” Her words were like a bell ringing in a quiet room. She told me to let go of the attachment to these thoughts and see this experience not as punishment but as an opportunity.

Always an opportunity to reflect and practice

Sister Karen shared a Buddhist perspective that stayed with me: to visualize taking on the suffering of others with each in-breath and offering happiness and peace to all beings with each out-breath. At first, it sounded poetic but unattainable. How could I think about anyone else’s suffering when mine felt so overwhelming? But the more I practiced, the more it clicked. This wasn’t about denying my pain—it was about transforming it. My suffering became a way to connect, to empathize, to let go of the ego that demanded life be convenient or perfect.

I won’t sugarcoat it—this mindset shift didn’t magically erase the physical pain or the endless chores. But it did change my relationship with them. Instead of seeing my daily routines as burdens, I began to approach them with presence. Cleaning my wounds, feeding myself—it all became part of staying in the moment, a practice in itself.

And that anger I felt? It wasn’t permanent. It never was. In fact, nothing is. The very impermanence that once terrified me is now my solace. Even in the midst of discomfort, I can find peace knowing this, too, shall pass.

Life after an operation like mine isn’t easy, and there are still days when I feel despondent. But through mindful awareness and the wisdom my sister Karen shared, I’ve found a better way to be at peace with myself. I’ve learned that the path to healing isn’t just about tending to the body—it’s about tending to the mind and spirit, too.

Sometimes, it’s the hardest moments that give us the greatest opportunities to grow. We just have to keep on growing regardless how tough life is, isn't it?

Dukkha is part of life, isn't it?