Uncomfortably Numb
"The Bridge" is a recent documentary about people who have committed suicide by jumping off the Golden Gate Bridge. The visuals are dramatic, thought-provoking and graphic, and instantly created a storm of controversy upon release. The film crew spent months with their cameras trained on the bridge, waiting patiently day after day for people to jump. With the bridge being the most popular spot in the world for suicide jumpers, they knew they wouldn't have to wait long. In 2004 twenty four people died in this manner. One young man in the documentary miraculously survived, and a few jumpers were caught on film being saved by passersby or law enforcement.
As a therapist, I am intimately familiar with suicide. I am trained to inquire up front about suicidal thoughts and plans, and to monitor continuously for signs that might indicate the potential for a suicide attempt. From what I know and have seen, hindsight usually provides multiple clues, signs and reasons for someone wanting to end their life. My guess is that there are very few people who just suddenly wake up one day and say, "this is it, I'm done, goodbye." Usually a suicidal person is chronically depressed, psychotic, abusing a substance, or suffering from a major physical illness or the loss of a loved one.
From a Buddhist perspective, suicide makes perfect sense. It is not a mystery. It stems from compulsive desire, which is the root cause of suffering. We all suffer from it. Desire is like the arcade game "whack-a-mole:" you can never get all of them, and they just keep popping up. After awhile the futility just drains you, so you give up.
And as human beings, it seems that we are hardwired to seek out contact and connections with people. Maybe that's why it feels so embarassing and shameful to be the person at the party wandering around with no one to talk to. What reason is there to live for a person whose whole life is like that, who no longer feels, or never felt to begin with, any connection to the world?
Our perceived separateness from the world can cut like a knife. It can push people over the edge, literally. The Buddha realized that our discriminating consciousness that separates "you" from "I" and "us" from "them" is the core mechanism behind all suffering. I myself have at times in my life keenly felt this tremendous sense of isolation, of a-part-ness. Zazen has been provided to us as the inner work that we do in order to recognize how empty that separateness is. Without it, I very well might have gone over the edge long ago.
As a therapist, I am intimately familiar with suicide. I am trained to inquire up front about suicidal thoughts and plans, and to monitor continuously for signs that might indicate the potential for a suicide attempt. From what I know and have seen, hindsight usually provides multiple clues, signs and reasons for someone wanting to end their life. My guess is that there are very few people who just suddenly wake up one day and say, "this is it, I'm done, goodbye." Usually a suicidal person is chronically depressed, psychotic, abusing a substance, or suffering from a major physical illness or the loss of a loved one.
From a Buddhist perspective, suicide makes perfect sense. It is not a mystery. It stems from compulsive desire, which is the root cause of suffering. We all suffer from it. Desire is like the arcade game "whack-a-mole:" you can never get all of them, and they just keep popping up. After awhile the futility just drains you, so you give up.
And as human beings, it seems that we are hardwired to seek out contact and connections with people. Maybe that's why it feels so embarassing and shameful to be the person at the party wandering around with no one to talk to. What reason is there to live for a person whose whole life is like that, who no longer feels, or never felt to begin with, any connection to the world?
Our perceived separateness from the world can cut like a knife. It can push people over the edge, literally. The Buddha realized that our discriminating consciousness that separates "you" from "I" and "us" from "them" is the core mechanism behind all suffering. I myself have at times in my life keenly felt this tremendous sense of isolation, of a-part-ness. Zazen has been provided to us as the inner work that we do in order to recognize how empty that separateness is. Without it, I very well might have gone over the edge long ago.
posted by David H at 9:32 PM
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