The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F_ck

But pain is not merely physical. As anyone who has had
to sit through the first Star Wars prequel can tell you, we
humans are capable of experiencing acute psychological
pain as well. In fact, research has found that our brains
don’t register much difference between physical pain and
psychological pain. So when I tell you that my first girlfriend
cheating on me and leaving me felt like having an ice pick
slowly inserted into the center of my heart, that’s because,
well, it hurt so much I might as well have had an ice pick
slowly inserted into the center of my heart.
Like physical pain, our psychological pain is an indication
of something out of equilibrium, some limitation that has
been exceeded. And like our physical pain, our
psychological pain is not necessarily always bad or even
undesirable. In some cases, experiencing emotional or
psychological pain can be healthy or necessary. Just like
stubbing our toe teaches us to walk into fewer tables, the
emotional pain of rejection or failure teaches us how to
avoid making the same mistakes in the future.
And this is what’s so dangerous about a society that
coddles itself more and more from the inevitable
discomforts of life: we lose the benefits of experiencing
healthy doses of pain, a loss that disconnects us from the
reality of the world around us.
You may salivate at the thought of a problem-free life full
of everlasting happiness and eternal compassion, but back
here on earth the problems never cease. Seriously,
problems don’t end. Disappointment Panda just dropped by.
We had margaritas, and he told me all about it: problems
never fucking go away, he said—they just improve. Warren
Buffett’s got money problems; the drunk hobo down at
Kwik-E Mart’s got money problems. Buffett’s just got better
money problems than the hobo. All of life is like this.
“Life is essentially an endless series of problems, Mark,”
the panda told me. He sipped his drink and adjusted the