weltschmerz

The literal translation is “world pain” (or sometimes “world weariness”), but it is actually a complex combination of mind-states. It reflects a sense of romantic discontent — not mere anger, but a sense that THINGS COULD BE DIFFERENT. It is a pessimism inspired by the knowledge that WE ARE BETTER THAN THIS. It is a sentimental sadness that leads not to ennui (meaning a complete lack of interest), but to action.

Though medical diagnosis via the Internet is generally not a good idea, I think weltschmerz is now an epidemic. Our collective weltschmerz is caused by a number of infectious agents: vitriolic politics, economic inequality, pervasive sexism, institutional racism, senseless violence, extremist ideologies, environmental degradation, the endless varieties of xenophobia, or all of the above.

The fact that this word was first coined almost 200 years ago, however, informs us that, although the pathogens today are different, our ability to feel pain when the world does not live up to our expectations is part of the human experience.

(I think it’s similar to what the Buddha was referring to, over 2500 years ago, when he said that life is “dukkha.” The usual translation is life is “suffering,” but it’s more precisely understood as “unsatisfactoriness.” The word is related to the Sanskrit expression for an ill-fitting axle, meaning that sometimes the wheels get off-kilter, and we’re in for a bumpy and uneasy ride.)

Weltschmerz is generally an unpleasant state — as most forms of pain (and wheel dislocation) are. But the whole reason we experience pain (at least from an evolutionary standpoint) is to prompt us into an action that will relieve the pain. If you put your hand on a hot stove, evolution doesn’t want you to wallow in your romantic discontent and compose an emotionally wrenching poem — it wants you to withdraw your hand now, dammit!

{Similarly, Buddha didn’t say, “Well, life sucks, get used to it.” (At least according to my translations). He instead offered a set of practices for addressing the causes of our suffering. (Hint: one of them is mindfulness).}

This pain system works not just with physical discomfort, but with our feelings, too. When we get all angry and emotional and ragey and start freaking out and activating all of our body’s emergency systems, it doesn’t feel good!

When confronted with a world that disappoints and even enrages us, our hearts race, our breathing speeds up, our muscles tense, our stomachs churn, our mouths go dry, and we post unskillful things on Facebook. Eventually, this disruption to our body’s stability (and its desire to maintain equilibrium) will prompt us to do things that will make us feel better again (if we’re listening carefully to the body’s signals, that is).

So we pause. We breathe deeply, we unclench our jaw, we get a drink of water, and we think about the situation a bit more clearly. We get curious about our anger and our pain.

We might realize that our ability to be hurt and angered by the world is, in some ways, a good thing.

For if we lose our sense of outrage over the problems in our world, we could sink into resignation and inaction.

Our world pain must be properly channeled.

In a 2015 essay for The Guardian, Oliver Burkeman wrote,

[W]eltschmerz springs precisely from seeing that things could and should be better. The capacity to be disappointed is a good thing. There’s a parallel here with physical pain: though it’s unpleasant, the inability to feel it is an extremely dangerous disorder. World pain is bad – but numbness to world pain would be worse.”

So how do we do this? How do we take anger and outrage and sadness and disappointment over the unsatisfactory, off-kilter state of the world and turn it into action, not ennui?

I have a few mindful ideas…

The Rx for Weltschmerz

2. Feel your feels

If you’re angry about the world, feel your anger. If you’re in pain, sit with your pain. Don’t deny or cover up your feelings. Carl Jung said, “What you resist, persists.” When we resist the anger, it can become blinded rage; when we ignore the pain it can become hurt, inflicted on ourselves or others.

When we hold space for our anger, or become curious about our pain, we can learn what they are trying to tell us, and what actions they are prompting us to take to make things better.

3. Practice gratitude

Gratitude is hardest when it is most needed. But it is one of the simplest practices there is to support your mental well-being. And right now it is really needed. Yes, there’s a lot of bad stuff in the world, but there is also SO. MUCH. GOOD.

4. Take action

In a post I wrote right after the 2016 election, I implored people to get to work on the things that need fixing in the world. But I cautioned that we need to focus on gardens, not farms:

You can handle a garden. Don’t buy a farm and start working on ALL THE THINGS that need working on right now. You don’t have the time or the energy for that.

You have a few tools, and a small piece of the earth.

Dig in. Plant the seeds you are passionate about and know something about….

Tending our garden is not a retreat from the world; it’s not a collapse back into our bubble. It is the first step toward transformation. Because, in my admittedly limited knowledge of actual gardening, I do know that we start with something that looks small and messy and dark, and it usually blooms into something beautiful and nourishing and abundant.

So pick your passion, and tend your garden.”

Yes, life is hard, and the world can disappoint us.

But let’s appreciate our world pain for what it is: a powerful signal from the body politic that we can be better.

So let’s be better. Let’s do better. It’s the only way we’ll heal.