Suffering: The Series Part 16 ~ The Rucksack Approach

So, what happens if the suffering you are experiencing is from something you cannot control or change?

I mentioned in a previous post that there are some parts of suffering you simply cannot walk away from. An injury, where the pain is a necessary part of the healing process. Abuse or domestic violence, where the abuser may be doing all in his or her power to keep you from leaving or healing from it. In Viktor Frankl’s case, being imprisoned in a concentration camp where a chance at escape would likely result in discovery and death.

There is also the same lack of control in more common moments: Loss of a loved one, loss of a job, news of a terminal illness, etc. In past blogs I have covered grief and loss and how we approach the suffering of it on the front end. But how do we approach it when we are in it, especially when there is no ending in sight?

If you were in my office asking me this question, I would likely have to spend the entire hour in conversation with you to uncover a coping strategy that is tailored specifically to you and your situation. The way that a person must cope with their suffering is both universal and specific, as different people bring different things to their present circumstances. For the sake of this post, and considering I do not have an hour, I will have to settle for the best general approach, which I am calling The Rucksack Approach.

When I first began my Army career, one frequent training experience we were subject to in Basic Training was something called a ruck march. If you are unfamiliar, this is essentially a long hiking trip through various terrains and climates, while carrying a giant rucksack on your back with anywhere from 50 to 100 pounds inside. This rucksack was attached to an equally giant, padded frame which was carried over the shoulders with a number of straps which kept it attached to the upper back and shoulders and also kept the ruck in the right place on the frame as well.

In the end, we had to do three major rucks and several small rucks, both to increase physical endurance and to improve emotional endurance and the ability to cope with long, laborious, physical experiences in which we were mostly unaware of the path we were taking and when there might be a break or stopping point.

Now, there were a number of things which were important in terms of preparation for this kind of trip—physical training and stamina, ability to follow leadership and authority well, a general ability to accept the silence of the mind (we were unable to speak outside of emergency situations for tactical training purposes)—but none of these were more important than the ruck itself, how it was packed and how it was carried.

The body and its musculature are intricate, specific and intentional. What I mean by that is that it always will matter what muscle is being used, how it is being used and why, for everything a person does. When I run, I am meant to use mainly my leg muscles, but I will also feel the result of a run in my core muscles, and even my shoulder muscles, depending on how much attention I give them each in the gym and my general running form. I should not, however, feel any strain in my arms or hands, for example, because my arms and hands ought to be relaxed when I am running. This is how it should be, provided I am allocating the exercise of the activity to the correct muscles in my body, and not expecting others to carry a load they are not meant to.

A ruck march is much the same. With a load of any amount of my back, the load should be allocated as much as it can be to be on my shoulders and upper back, as those muscles can bear that load efficiently without taxing the rest of the body. As I mentioned, there are a number of straps on the ruck to compact the ruck into a small enough bag to be carried with the muscles it was meant to be carried by, and to keep from taxing the lower back and stressing the muscles and joints around and below.

Without belaboring the analogy, let me cut to the chase.

The Rucksack Approach follows this mentality: There are some varieties of suffering that aren’t temporary. And, in most cases, the sufferer will be required to carry a load of unknown weight through an unknown terrain for an unknown distance. We cannot know what suffering will ask of us or how long it will be asking it of us, nor can we often choose just what is in our rucksack when we are required to begin the trek through suffering. What we can do, however, is choose just how we carry it and change the way we are carrying it so that it is only being carried in the way that is it meant to be.

What does this look like? Avoiding the natural instinct to avoid any acknowledgment of what we are going through (making sure the rucksack has what we need in it, and nothing extra), regularly asking ourselves what suffering is asking of us (allowing ourselves to pause and assess whether the rucksack is compact in the right ways and not causing harm to the ways we carry ourselves with the other muscles in our body) and then allowing ourselves to let our experience with suffering tell us what we need step by step, mile by mile (allowing the ruck march to be an experience which unifies us with ourselves and our own thoughts, emotions and coping strengths, as opposed to a catalyst for escapism and avoidance.)

There can be no movement through suffering without these three elements. So, let’s learn about ourselves so we can pack a decent rucksack, and have the emotional intelligence to carry it well when life asks us to suffer.