We suffer more in imagination than we do in reality
We Suffer More in Imagination Than We Do in Reality Life can feel heavy. We move through life facing obstacles, adversity, brick walls, and hurdles. Sometimes we’re asked to climb mountains when all we want is a place to sit down and catch our breath. Many people believe what they’re going through is too much. So they look for ways to escape—numbing, running, distracting—anything to avoid facing reality. But here’s a hard and freeing truth: Most of what we call suffering isn’t as bad as we think. Our imagination adds weight that reality never asked us to carry. The mind is powerful. When it’s undisciplined, it becomes a storyteller that exaggerates pain, predicts disaster, and convinces us we’re trapped—when we’re not. Let me give you a few real examples. My niece, Victoria Meza, was murdered by her boyfriend. I recently found out that charges will not be pressed against the man who took her life. Did that hurt? Yes. Deeply. Did learning that he will walk free cut even deeper? Of course it did. But am I suffering? No. I’m hurt. I’m grieving. I’m angry at injustice. But suffering is something different. Years ago, I wouldn’t have known the difference. The old version of me would have reacted from rage and impulse, driven by imagination and emotion instead of truth. Today, I don’t have that desire—because my mindset has changed. Pain no longer controls my direction. At the same time, life kept piling on. A storage company took money from my bank account after agreeing to wait until I got paid. That put me overdrawn by $200. I couldn’t pay some bills, including my auto insurance. Because I’m buying a car, full coverage isn’t optional. Without it, the vehicle can be taken. Will that create stress? Yes. Will it make life harder for a moment? Absolutely. But does that qualify as suffering? No, because there is still a way through. Suffering is not about circumstances. It’s about whether you believe you’re powerless. Leonard Peltier spent nearly 50 years in prison for a crime he maintained he did not commit. After decades behind bars and declining health, he was granted clemency so he could spend the rest of his life with family—under strict conditions.