And Who Really Suffers Here?

“Life is really simple, but we insist on complicating it,” said Confucius.

Hold on… I might be accused of seeing things in black and white, but since Confucius said that, I might get away with it. I dare to ask: are we suddenly not part of a cult of suffering? “I suffer from high blood pressure, memory loss, shortsightedness, or a cold”. Before you take a breath, you will suffer because a friend has more likes on social media!? Before you start suffering from laughter, join me in my weekend reflections.

I got nostalgic, recalling all the escapades with wood sticks, exploring the hills with friends, collecting snails, and shouting at passing trains. Yes, childhood memories when you could play with friends until dark without anyone worrying about kidnapping or other dangers. According to the suffering theory, I must have felt insecure or unhappy digging into my childhood. Still, I dare to think I had an extremely happy weekend—since we love extremes—deep suffering or high real joy, deep connection or none.

Then I started to think about some pictures: summer and smiles. We often look for suffering in so-called "third-world" countries, but we, living in relative prosperity, should feel sorry for ourselves. I know, I go a bit extreme there, but why not? What do I risk—no likes for this post?

Think of those “poor” villages without internet access, whom we are so eager to "help" by providing constant electricity and, subsequently, everything else, including internet addiction and the plague of loneliness. Locally, they have everything needed to create a community. Sure, they may struggle to find food, but they have exemplary relationships, sunshine, and live with smiles on their faces.

In short, we have many conveniences and always something to put in the pot. Meanwhile, in our civilised culture, neighbours wonder if they should say hello because someone gave a funny look. Passing a handshake results in passing a sickness, and having a simple laugh is not worth it since you can go home and snuggle into a real conversation with a book! We think we're part of a community, yet everyone is eager to show up for weddings or funerals, but no one is truly significant to anyone else. The week is filled with work and career, social presence, reading, meditation, and deep philosophical reflections about the meaning of life and love, with no real relationships outside the immediate family—or perhaps a cat or a dog, because you live in a big city far from your family.

And who really has the deficits here?

Take your childhood memories. Sure, you went through some stuff, but when out and about, you weren't bogged down by social media or overwhelmed by the pressure to achieve and compare with anyone. Our worries were simple: getting home before dark, finding the best hiding spot in a game, or collecting the most snails. We felt a genuine connection to the world around us and the people we shared it with.

Now, in our modern, connected world, suffering takes on a new form. There was a moment when society collectively thought, "Why meet in person when you can update everyone about your life on social media?" Spending less time offline and immersing in online personas didn’t bring that much advancement in the “social” aspect of life. Social media became the main stage for social interactions, often at the cost of real-world connections. This changed how we engage with each other, highlighting the complexities and trade-offs of our digital lives.

In these “third-world” villages, people may lack modern conveniences, but they often have a richness of life that we, in our technologically advanced societies, have lost. They have close-knit communities, direct interactions, and a daily life intertwined with nature that we need to fight for. They face challenges, yes, but they also have a sense of belonging that many highly independent and successful people struggle to find.

Who really suffers then? Is it really the person in a remote village without electricity, but with a strong community? Our suffering is often self-imposed. We complicate our lives with unnecessary worries and comparisons. We chase after things that don't truly fulfill us, all while ignoring the simple joys and connections that once made life so rich.

Perhaps, instead of trying to simplify life for others, we should focus on simplifying our own lives. Rediscover the joy of a genuine connection, the peace of mind from less clutter, and the fulfillment from living in the moment. In doing so, we might find that life, in its simplest form, is more than enough.

After all, some philosophers, poets, and transcendentalists could put it without unnecessary complexity:

“Simplify, simplify.” — Henry David Thoreau