The sweetness and pain of life

Sukha, duhkha and yoga

Lindsay McComb
McPrecht
2 min readFeb 9, 2016

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by Matt Anderson

As I was squatting, pretending I was sitting in an invisible chair during yoga class doing the utkata chair pose, calves burning and hating the teacher, she said something and suddenly I felt better. She said in yoga, as in life, there is sukha, or sweetness, and duhkha, or pain. Happiness and suffering. Sukha/duhkha.

Suddenly I felt like I had a much better handle on this. Then we stretched up, lengthening our legs and the pain was gone. Sweet relief.

I wasn’t planning to write about how great yoga is. I mean it is great for me, and since I’ve been going consistently for the past year, I’ve noticed a huge change in my mindfulness, and can channel my breathing to get me though even the nastiest bouts of anxiety. I recommend that everyone try it out, as there’s always modifications for every level and ability.

What I intended, rather, was to dive into, or maybe just dip my toes into the deep pool of life. To play around with the idea of sweetness and pain, of sukha and duhka.

Think about it: without the contrast, without comparison, it’s hard to fully appreciate one or the other. When things are going well, we become complacent. We take it for granted that things won’t always be this good. We humans have an incredible capacity to get used to things, to get bored with things.

We are forgetful creatures.

When things are bad, we struggle to conjure up the memories of the good. Everything feels as though it’s always been difficult. We wonder why things can’t just ever work out, and it feels like things will never get better.

We need balance.

The sweetness feels that much sweeter after the pain. The bad feels manageable, it’s easier to forget once the good returns. No matter how good or how bad, nothing will last forever. All things must pass away.

Next time I’m in plank pose, pushing against gravity and wishing I had just stayed in bed, I’ll take a deeper breath and remember how good it will feel to move through the poses and end up in balasana, child’s pose. Next time I’m riding high on a good presentation in grad school or a new consulting contract, I’ll remember how much work I’ve put into it, how much I had to struggle to get where I am today. How much more sweetness and bitterness that lie ahead.

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Lindsay McComb
McPrecht

Design researcher and content strategist who enjoys damn fine cups of coffee.