It is a curious feature of modern life, particularly in the affluent portions of the world, that comfort has not engendered contentment, nor abundance brought with it any profound sense of peace.
Instead, there seems to arise from the very surplus of convenience a new breed of suffering; petulant, exaggerated, and often wholly invented. These are what have come to be known, half-jokingly and half-seriously, as “first-world problems.”
A cracked smartphone screen, a delayed flight, a disappointing restaurant meal; these are the tragedies that populate the modern diary.
One might even be forgiven, listening to certain conversations or glancing at the discontented musings on social media, for imagining that the world has been turned on its head and that the great sufferings of history (war, hunger, illness, exile) have been replaced by insufficient Wi-Fi or the absence of almond milk.
There is a danger, however, in dismissing this phenomenon too hastily. For while it is tempting to sneer at the complaints of the comfortable, it is worth asking why such trifles should elicit so much consternation. The answer, I suspect, lies in a misdirection of emotional energy. The human animal, shaped by millennia of danger and deprivation, is ill-suited to a life in which all real threats have been neutralized. He continues to scan the horizon for wolves, and if he finds none, he imagines them in the whirr of a coffee grinder or the flickering light of a malfunctioning app.
This misdirection is not merely comical, it is tragic. For the habit of magnifying minor discomforts gradually erodes the capacity to perceive what truly matters.
A people who bewail a lukewarm latte will scarcely be equipped to ponder the fragility of existence, the loneliness of the soul, the moral demands of justice, or the infinite dignity that inheres in every human life. Where the ancient philosophers turned their attention to virtue, and where the mystics sought the divine, the modern mind too often seeks only the removal of a temporary nuisance.
To live well is to live in proportion. It is to understand that much of what disturbs us does not, in fact, merit the disturbance. It is to cultivate the serenity to accept with grace what cannot be perfect and the discernment to distinguish inconvenience from true misfortune. Most of all, it is to reorient the mind toward that which makes life meaningful; friendship, beauty, compassion, truth.
There are still real problems in the world. There are mothers who watch their children starve, workers who labour without rest or reward, whole communities erased by war or indifference. If we in the wealthier parts of the world wish to justify our advantages, we might begin by ceasing to complain so loudly about them.
This is not to say that the small things are of no importance, only that they must be kept in their rightful place. A life can be beautiful even if the train runs late. It can be noble even if the trousers don’t fit. And, paradoxically, once we stop obsessing over what is trivial, we may rediscover what is eternal; the joy of being alive, the quiet marvel of thought, the unearned miracle of consciousness.
Let us, then, be less afraid of discomfort and more afraid of distraction. For it is not suffering that most threatens to ruin life in the first world, it is forgetfulness. Forgetfulness of what it is to be human, what it is to love, and what it is to be grateful for the sun, the rain, and the breath that still moves in and out of our lungs. These are not problems. They are gifts. And they are what remain when the screen goes dark.
Join us in making the world a better place – you’ll be glad that you did. Cheers friends.