The Right To Your Pain

One of my favorite novels of all time is East of Eden by John Steinbeck. This American classic ostensibly is a retelling of Adam and Eve and Cain and Abell - focusing on how the choices that we make, the choices we are all responsible for making day to day, effect generations after us in ways that we can’t imagine - and while we may be a member of a group or family that is being affected by a previous generation’s choices, we still have a choice ourselves to do something different - or to do the same. 

The book’s two main characters are brothers who are largely raised in the care of a chinese immigrant Mr. Lee who acts as the family’s butler, or better put, a wise spiritual compass and leader. What Mr. Lee, at various points of the story, attempts to teach is that what we choose to do in the face of pain is not meaningless but quite the opposite, is meaningful to the extent that it can alter the course of an entire family and by so doing, history itself. Mr. Lee emphasizes the powerful potential we all have within us by the very nature of our free will to either build upon or destroy our lives in the wake of tragedy, heartbreak, and challenge. In a pivotal moment of the novel, Mr. Lee is party to some bad news being delivered to his employer, Adam, whose son is fighting in WWI. Adam faces every parent’s worst nightmare - losing a child. One of Adam’s other son’s attempts to conceal the news from his father and in a moment of brutal truth and wisdom Mr. Lee stops the attempt to hide the news and says “Every man has a right to his pain”. Let that statement sink in but in a different way - YOU have a right to YOUR pain. 

Why? Why would that be a right when at first pain is something we want to avoid yet when we think of someone taking away our pain we resist that? It may depend on the pain that’s been taken away. Perhaps it’s the pain that aligns with the truth. Pain that enlightens our understanding and gives a sense of orientation is one that we guard. Although painful, more than the pain to be avoided, it speaks volumes as to the truth and the reality that a deep part of our soul craves. 

As a thought experiment, place yourself in Adam's shoes. What if your child had died overseas and then you found out that another member of your family concealed that from you? How would you feel about that? Would you be angry? Feel betrayed? Why? After all, they’re saving you from pain aren’t they? 

Something being a right implies a sense of divine ownership - something about you or your life that cannot and should not be infringed upon or taken from you. A right is only a right as its justifications/origins come from a power that is more powerful than man or government. A right is a right as it is seen as coming from the divine. Rights benefit us, rights protect us, rights ensure our humanity. Does pain fit into that category? Why would pain be a right?

 The reason why pain is a right is that pain gifts/benefits us, protects us, teaches us, and ensures our humanity. Rights are recognitions of humanity and a denial of pain is a denial of our humanity and the amazing potential we have as humans to take pain as fuel to create something beautiful. Pain is also a right because deep down, if someone conceals pain or painful news from us, or tries to rescue us, there is a perceived sense of weakness insinuated in that concealment, in that denial of the right. A denial of a right is a denial of one’s humanness - and part of being human is the potential we have to create. “You can’t handle this pain, let me take it from you” seems to be a gift, yet it’s an insult and a lack of trust. “They” don’t trust us that we can handle it, that we are strong enough, that we couldn’t take our pain and change it into something meaningful and beautiful - what an insult. Does anyone who is pursuing a meaningful life, want to be seen as an individual that has to be shielded from life? An individual that “can’t take it, thus can’t be trusted”? Absolutely not. To be able to receive pain is a marker of strength and maturity. It’s a sign that one CAN be trusted and if YOU can be trusted with pain, others will see that and in turn be drawn to you which, then in turn, will give more meaning to your life because so much a part of meaning in life is tied to relationships. 

Another way in which pain is a right is tied to our pursuit of happiness. The happiness I refer to here is not a happiness that comes and goes but rather more of a longer lasting life fulfillment. The pathway to that kind of happiness is one that includes pain and sometimes, if not often, the pain that comes with truth. Going back to East of Eden, earlier in the story Adam Trask’s situation is a brutal and difficult one - having been not just abandoned by the mother of his children, but first shot by her and then abandoned to raise his twin sons alone (of course with the help of Mr. Lee) Adam slips into a state of darkness. Still confused as to why the “love” of his life would do this, Adam becomes a distant and apathetic father, perhaps seeing his sons as reminders to the pain Kate has caused him. Not quite knowing what happened to Kate, and always wondering what could have been/would’ve been different, Adam stays in this kind of dark detached trance for years. 

Adam, eventually having befriended a local farmer and legend to the valley in which the story takes place - Samuel Hamilton, is visited one (afternoon/evening) by Samuel. Having seen enough of Adam’s pain, the effects it’s having on not only Adam himself but his two sons, and knowing the true location and dealings of Kate, Samuel decides to tell Adam the truth - that Kate is still in the valley, and is owning and operating a local whorehouse. Samuel, before telling Adam, informs Mr. Lee (remember, every man has right to his pain Mr. Lee) that he is going to tell Adam the truth. Mr. Lee is worried for Adam but ultimately accepts Samuel’s choice. Samuel is going to tell Adam the truth because he presupposes that the painful truth is ultimately better for Adam, and really, any of us, than a comforting lie. He believes that the truth is the “true medicine”. 

Adam is told the truth, is shocked, and then he makes the decision to go and validate or disprove Samuel’s claims for himself. Adam confronts Kate, something that takes massive courage, and in so doing is set free. He finds her to be miserable, undesirable, unattractive (not just in a physical sense but emotionally, psychologically, soulfully unattractive) and turns around and walks away from her. Very quickly, Adam is reborn. 

Having been made free from the painful truth, Adam no longer has to wonder not just where Kate is physically, but also no longer has to wonder if his life would be better with her in it. He quickly becomes the father that Cal and Aron -  his two boys -  need him to be. Cal especially receives the love and recognition he has been starving for - and all because of Adam being set free from a painful, but saving truth. 

This is why we all have a right to our pain - because we just don’t know what our pain will lead to. Increased understanding of where we truthfully stand in relation to ourselves, to others, to the world? Increased empathy and connection with those around us? Increased sense of strength to be able to handle that which the world can throw at us, and as a consequence, increased confidence, which leads to more productive action or meaningful choices. 

To have pain, to not be denied our pain, is to be human in the ultimate sense of the word. Adam was being denied his pain the longer Samuel and the rest of the valley kept the truth from him about Kate. Once told his pain, the pain tied to the truth, Adam was made free. He was no longer bound and to be determined from that which he didn’t know, the comforting lie. I bet if Adam Trask were to read the stoics (which there is reason to believe he did as a copy of Meditations by M. Aurelius is mentioned a few times in East of Eden) he would agree that because of the truth, although extremely painful, when finally confronted was empowering. “It’s time you realized that you have something in you more powerful and miraculous than the things that affect you and make you dance like a puppet” (Meditations 165). Adam was a puppet, a puppet to not knowing and imagining what happened to Kate. Left to wonder, his feelings and sorrow completely took over his decision making, his soul, and he was falling short of the father and man he could be. The pain is what set him free - free to become something more powerful and miraculous than the things that affected him. Don’t let the pain of the world or your personal life/experiences cause you to dance like a puppet. Use the pain to help you transform into something more “powerful and miraculous” than the pain itself. Your pain is your right, don’t waste it.

References:

Meditations - Marcus Aurelius

East of Eden - John Steinbeck