“To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some
meaning in the suffering.” — Friedrich Nietzsche
Suffering. A word that echoes in the soul of every
human being, regardless of age, belief, or background. But what is this
suffering that thinkers like Nietzsche, Camus, and Dostoevsky speak of—not just
as pain to be avoided, but as something essential to human life?
We all suffer—loss, anxiety, failure, guilt,
emptiness. These are not foreign concepts to any of us. In that sense,
suffering is a shared condition, a thread that binds humanity together. But
these philosophers take it a step further. They suggest that suffering is not
only inevitable—it is meaningful.
Nietzsche argued that suffering was not something to
escape but something to confront and transform. “He who has a why to live,” he
said, “can bear almost any how.” Camus, on the other hand, called life
“absurd,” a conflict between our desire for clarity and the chaotic,
indifferent universe. Yet even he insisted we must imagine Sisyphus—the eternal
sufferer—happy. Dostoevsky, who knew the sting of prison, poverty, and despair,
claimed that suffering refines the soul and brings us closer to truth.
But what is this suffering they speak of? Is it the
physical kind? Emotional anguish? Spiritual unrest? Or is it something deeper—a
kind of existential burden of being human, of searching for purpose in a world
that offers no clear answers?
For me, suffering is all of the above. It is the
silence after prayer. The ache of not knowing. The inner void that no
distraction can fill. But it is also, strangely, a mirror—a teacher that
confronts me with the raw questions I often avoid. Who am I? Why am I here?
What does it mean to live?
And perhaps that is what these philosophers are
trying to tell us. That suffering strips away illusions. That in the absence of
comfort, we are invited to find truth—not outside, but within.
This is not an argument for despair. It is a call to
courage. To live with questions, not just answers. To hold space for pain
without needing to escape it. To believe that in the darkness, there can still
be light—not despite suffering, but sometimes, because of it.
In this uncertain world, maybe it is suffering that
teaches us how to love, to understand, and to endure. Not because suffering is
sacred in itself, but because what we do with it might be.
Hoxuvi Sumi
(A curious mind
from Nagaland reflecting on life, society, and meaning)
