There is a quote from a book I wished to use for this article. But I am frustrated because I can’t readily locate the quote. I wished to locate the quote so I could better understand the context of the quote. The quote is as follows: “. . . but perhaps he might gain internal vision and understanding something proportional to what he loses in perception of the outside world.” The quote comes from a wonderful and challenging book I read earlier this year. The author of that book is Jordan Peterson. The book is titled 12 Rules For Life. I thought I could find the quote easily by consulting the Index and looking at the entries under the word suffering. I looked up the first 36 references to suffering in the Index, thinking that was all of them. I didn’t find the quote in those 36 references. Then I realized that there were 40 additional references. But alas, I am fatigued and don’t have the energy to continue the search. So I continue this article without the context of that important quote by Jordan Peterson.

I notice something interesting that many of my readers have probably noticed as well. When we exercise vigorously, whether it involves lifting weights, or running a long distance, or swimming, or jumping rope, if we really go all out, we end up quite fatigued. If we had been lifting weights, for example, we have broken down muscle tissue and thus feel weaker. Yet a curious thing occurs: our muscles rebound eventually and we are a bit stronger. Or if the activity was cardio-vascular in nature, say swimming or running, we may we out of breath and exhausted after a rigorous workout, but we end up with enhanced lung capacity.

I believe something similar occurs – at least on occasion – with certain people at various times and in myriad ways. I speak of suffering. This earth life is not for the faint of heart. It seems that an inordinate number of us experience some form of suffering from time to time. Loneliness, isolation, the dissolution of a marriage, the collapse of a friendship, feeling a sense of betrayal, being mercilessly bullied or mocked, being on the receiving end of human cruelty, being ignored or ostracized, feeling our lives missed the mark altogether, being stricken with cancer or some other disease, experiencing a significant injury. . . The list is endless.

But here is another interesting observation. I have noticed that on occasion, some individuals somehow grow in wisdom, in intelligence, in virtue as a result of their suffering. Their suffering changes them, for the better. I almost wonder if such persons could not have grown in the ways they did were it not for their suffering. Their suffering seems to have had the effect of making them more humane, more decent, more morally grounded. Not everyone who suffers grows in this manner.

But for those who do, they have, like the caterpillar that experiences metamorphosis within the casing of a chrysalis and comes out a beautiful butterfly, undergone a profound sea-change, a transmutation of sorts, and have come out more noble, more elevated than before.

I do not wish for suffering on anyone. Yet it is hard to deny that in some cases, it is suffering that molds us into magnificence.

Perhaps suffering often brings with it a sort of divine reciprocity, forging us into more impressive human beings than we otherwise could have mustered on our own. Food for thought.