The first of the twelve steps says it plainly: first, admit there’s a problem.

Until you do, nothing moves. You can read every book, hear every teaching and nod along, but as long as some part of you is sure your life is basically fine, everything stays as it was. The door stays shut.

They say seeing the problem is already half the solution. Sometimes not half but the whole thing. Sometimes it’s enough just to see which cockroach or demon is sitting inside.

Admit that things aren’t what they seem, that the way you’ve been living isn’t the only way and suffering is optional, and from there it gets easier. The hardest part is admitting the work is needed. The work itself comes easier.

So admit it. The next question follows at once: what do you do about it? It turns out the answer was worked out two and a half thousand years ago.

The second arrow

The Buddha told a story about two arrows. Pain is real, and suffering is what you add to it yourself.

The body feels pain, and there’s no choice in that. That’s the first arrow. The second is the story about the pain, replayed at 3 a.m. for years. That one you fire into yourself.

A hard past can become an excuse, or it can become fuel. Everyone has a story, everyone has been through something: some got too little praise, some had too much piled on them, some got hit harder than the rest. None of it dissolves on its own. It settles into your foundation, and from there you either break under it or stand on top of it.

The past explains you. It doesn’t excuse you. Once you’ve seen your cockroach, you can’t pretend it isn’t there. One question is left: what will you build on top?

Love life

The first Noble Truth of Buddhism reads: “Suffering exists.” The Buddha spoke of suffering without any slogans like “no pain, no gain.” He kept a precise list of what are called the defilements of the mind, and all of them grow from three roots: greed, hatred and delusion. I’d add that fear lies under all three.

Defilements are contagious: they move into other people and multiply there. Thoughts think themselves. Anyone will happily list what they dislike, what annoys them, what they can’t stand. Anyone will tell you what’s wrong with their life and how it all should have gone. And each, in their own way, passes it on to the people around them. Yet there are no others. This is water we all swim in, and you’re releasing poison into your own aquarium.

The whole catch is that this suffering doesn’t exist. The discomfort is born in your head. It’s imaginary, tailored precisely to get to you, and any of it can simply be ignored. That is what enlightenment comes down to: you start seeing through the illusion. A suitcase with no handle can be left by the road; you don’t need it anymore. It doesn’t exist, and it never did.

Keep only the good things in your life, only what you yourself want. The rest simply stops happening. Yes, something exists on the other side of the screen. On this side, on mine, it doesn’t.

Nothing extra, only what you love: people you love, things you love doing, a life you love. Nothing else is needed, suffering included.

How do you get there? Through Buddhism, minus the temples and incense.