Musing on my previous post, the question of suffering in life is not one that is approached lightly. There is no one source that answers the 'why' to every bodies satisfaction. Even people of faith approach the matter with a sigh, because to say 'God knows the beginning from the end' or that 'no suffering is wasted in God's plans for ultimate good' will only please so many people and might infuriate others.

If you are a materialist then you are able to present the the stark reality of your vision - that suffering is unexplainable (though it can be described), that it just 'is' as a bald fact of how the universe is ordered. There is no point in looking for meaning.

Human beings will, of course, always look for meaning, so to talk about the meaninglessness of such a significant part of existence will fall flat for many. For the stoic, or the depressive, it's manageable.

I have always felt a sense of loss. It's not because I feel I have failed at everything, which clearly is not the case. Call it a pervasive sense of sadness, a kind of emotional mist for which I cannot find a solid core, that comes and goes. It's probably why I tend more towards pessimism (with occasional loud bursts of optimism). It's why topics like suffering appeal to me.

Of course, things could always be worse. Just ask S.T. Coleridge.

'Come, come thou bleak December wind,

And blow the dry leaves from the tree!

Flash, like a Love-thought, thro' me, Death

And take a life that wearies me.'

Not one of his better days, methinks!