Image by Oleksandr Melnyk - Getty Images
Thunderstorm illustration
It’s a new year, and many of us are hoping it won’t resemble the last one, at least in terms of the world in general. Lots of tough stuff in 2022, including the ongoing pandemic, natural disasters aplenty, an intensifying climate crisis, escalating gun violence, social media overflowing with hate, the war in Ukraine . . . it’s a long list. All of which reinforces a stark reality that many of us would rather ignore—really bad stuff happens, often randomly, unfairly and unpredictably. And this fact, one increasingly rammed into our daily lives, tests more than our physical and psychological survival skills. It challenges our attitude toward life.
The cumulative mental weight of these risks and disasters, as well as the suffering they inflict, can shape one’s philosophy toward living as well as one’s view toward a supreme being. When catastrophically bad things descend upon our collective heads, or when we endure an individual tragedy that falls randomly and without warning, we often turn to God or fate and ask, “Why?” How we answer this question informs our attitudes toward life and how we intend to live it. In this respect, most of us fall into one of a few schools of thought.
First is the “God’s will” group. To them, disasters and tragedies are the bidding of a deity that pursues far larger purposes than we can comprehend. They regard epic calamities and individual suffering as the Lord “working in mysterious ways,” and leave it at that. Faced with the vagaries and cruelties of existence, some find this sort of blind faith comforting. After all, suffering without purpose or meaning is the worst kind, so thinking that one’s adversity fits into a divine plan offers some solace. However, this mindset encourages passivity.
Stay on top of the news of the day
Subscribe to our free, daily e-newsletter to get Milwaukee's latest local news, restaurants, music, arts and entertainment and events delivered right to your inbox every weekday, plus a bonus Week in Review email on Saturdays.
Our Fault?
Then come the “hellfire” types. As they see it, if some awful thing befalls us, well, it’s our own damn fault. To them, pestilence and mayhem are well-deserved punishment for our sins against God, not unlike the biblical story of Sodom and Gomorrah. These are the same folks who concocted the patently absurd idea that AIDS is divine retribution for what they view as the “sin” of homosexuality. They conveniently overlook that this disease primarily afflicts and is transmitted by heterosexuals. This mindset encourages the blame game.
Next is the “whatever” group. For them, bad stuff just happens and has no particular significance. Calamities are simply there, and the universe is indifferent to our existence. As they see it, we humans project our interpretations on these destructive happenings when, in fact, they have no inherent meaning. Our error, they maintain, is that when all hell breaks loose, we desperately try to make sense out of what is basically nonsense. This mindset fosters cynicism.
Perhaps closely related is the “what, me worry?” bunch. They figure there is nothing one can do about global mayhem, whatever its cosmic significance or lack thereof, so why fret about it? Often, they assume a stoic posture toward individual risks as well, and they have a point. Random mass shootings, for example, can happen anywhere, anytime and anyhow. The mindset here is apathy.
Finally, there are the “victims.” These folks view crises and suffering as proof that life is out to get them, that the universe is a conspiracy to undermine their well-being. To them, disasters, both individual and collective, demonstrate that life is rigged against us. This “resistance is futile” mindset fosters despair.
Psychological research suggests the most helpful attitude in the face of life’s cruelties and tribulations involves focusing on one’s efforts more than outcomes. Rarely can we entirely control how things turn out, but we can control where we put our mental focus, time and energy when things go to hell in a handbasket. Doing our best—acts of kindness, supporting others, practicing self-care, being a force for good—is where we can make a difference, even if only a small one.
This approach transforms that existential “Why did this happen?” into “How best can I respond?” That matters much, because spending too much time asking “Why?” usually leads to more suffering, not less.
