Commuting in a city like New York gives you a window into the sufferings of daily life. Even beyond the more obvious instances of extreme suffering evidenced by the infirm and homeless who inhabit our streets and subway stations, one can see evidence of a still, existential ache everywhere. People, myself included, glued to the screens of their phones or attached to turn via earphones are ubiquitous reminders of the pleasure and escape seeking that mark the moments of our days.
We’re so disconnected from life, from community and the earth that we willingly and absent-mindedly commit violence upon all three in pursuit of momentary pleasure. And I am just as guilty here too.
What can be done? One possibility I’d to find refuge in samadhi or, at the very least, to be fed by it on a daily basis so that we’re no so desperate for sustenance. And what that calls for is patience and practice. May I cultivate both.