Suffering in a Symmetrical Universe

Jason Fleming
3 min readFeb 9, 2021
A tree against red rocks in a snowstorm.

I believe largely in a symmetrical universe. To match higher highs, there are lower lows. Brighter lights offset deeper shadows. This balance may not be evenly distribute in an individual life, but If you expand the scope of human experience, this seems to be borne out.

The challenge of trauma is that it seems to throw this view of the universe out of balance. In the isolated experience of great (and seemingly unprovoked) suffering, we can suddenly find ourselves believing the moral compass of the universe itself is tilted to one side.

The feeling that follows trauma is that there is an inherent imbalance in the universe, and with the scales tipped in favor of injustice, pain and suffering, we are never safe. To live with trauma is to live as though it will be a clutching, grasping fight every breath for the rest of your life to stay ahead of the curve of inevitable suffering and danger.

If, however, we continue to assert that a balance must exist in the universe and that localized personal suffering does not ultimately represent this balance shifting, we are confronted with a different possibility — that greater suffering represents a clue how far the scale must extend in the other direction as well.

To submit to unthinkable suffering in a balanced universe is to believe that unthinkable success and joy are possible as well.

This does not mean that you will necessarily experience either the highest highs, the lowest lows or both. It merely means they exist, and that absent any moral agency in (or over) the machinations of existence, you are as likely to experience one as the other.

All arguments of this type can be unraveled by questions such as “what about Syrian refugees who have had their entire families killed and lives destroyed?” There is no answer for the effects of hatred and war. There is no guarantee people who have lost that much, suffered so deeply and been wounded so tragically will experience joy commensurate with their sorrow. To demand such a thing would be to return to the universe of “should” … a world where equivalency and balance are judged by individual experiences. This is the path back to karma or the modern Protestant version of a similar concept loosely (and inaccurately) wrapped around being rewarded in Christ.

Laying unanswerable questions to the side, we can return to the point of this concept, which is enabling hope to return after tragedy. If the worst thing you can think of, the most horrible “please God, not this” moment has come to your life and you are still alive in the aftermath, you need new foundations to rebuild your life on.

I submit that one of the cornerstones of this foundation should be the following: if the unthinkably bad can happen, then the unthinkably good is just as likely to occur. To suggest otherwise is to insinuate a bias to the universe that may not be substantiated or helpful.

Following trauma, the feeling of exposure and vulnerability is deeply real. Your experience is a bullhorn in your soul screaming out that “this could happen again!” And, this is true … sort of. It is possible pain may come again, but other outcomes remain just as likely.

Having your eyes opened to the possibility of future suffering is jarring, but interpreting tragedy as the indication of future experience is to fall into the lie that the half of human experience expanded before you is the only one which has grown.

On the contrary, I believe (in my better moments) that tragedy is an indication of how far the universe extends in both directions. Uncommon tragedy hides within it the hope uncommon joy exists as well, and that is worth searching for.

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Jason Fleming

Colorado dwelling designer at Convey Studio. Lover of nature, well-crafted things and snow.