Being Human - Verlin Darrow

In an earlier era of my life I believed that if I could just get beyond all the messy gunk of ordinary living, I'd find myself in a glorious new realm. I pictured a post-enlightened state free from anxiety or depression, with no further need to slake any evolution-based needs. There would be a cessation of striving for anything in particular and I'd just coast along feeling happy. Sounds terrific, doesn't it? It's the stuff of populist politics, utopian literature, cult manifestoes, and, let's face it, fairy tales.

It's easy to think that the goal of working on ourselves is the abdication of personhood -- stepping away from the difficulties of being human. But as Pema Chodron says, we have to start where we are -- rooted in our own muck -- and move through it. There are no shortcuts or flyovers or other ways to circumvent the work. You can't even take a piggyback ride through it, no matter how broad the shoulders are beneath you.

It's probably not a good idea to try to characterize in detail the landscape on the far side of whatever lies between you and your future. It's certainly possible that elements of the absolute, such as a resolute peace of mind or a default setting of compassion, might greet you. On the other hand, maybe you'll find something radically different. Muck-processing helps prepare you to cope with whatever outcomes you encounter.

What do I mean by muck? Nothing more than exactly what comes your way. You planned to play tennis, but it rained, so perhaps you feel sad or angry. What do you do when the rain comes down and the feelings come up? You could go to a bar and drink all day. There's one person's muck. You could work frantically on your taxes and stuff your feelings. There's another path. If you go ahead and sit with your feelings, this may not be a fun experience, either. I'm not saying there's a right and wrong about handling a given situation, just that there's no long-term escape from any substantive internal or external experience. Sooner or later, there's a day of reckoning for whatever we shrink from or deny or rationalize or stuff or act out without awareness. Our willingness to do our inner work is an essential element in staying unstuck. Whether this willingness is initially available or only present after we've been pummeled by events, it's what signs us up for growth.

The suffering we endure from moving forward is hardly gratuitous. There is bang for our buck in this suffering, in contrast to the energy we throw down a hole when we fight the reality of our deal. As the saying goes: resistance is futile. We are human; we need to be human; being human is a messy, bumbling deal. So let's all get used to it.

Maybe you'd prefer to be taller or to never feel disappointed. So what? Maybe you wish your feet never hurt, even though you're a postal carrier. I'm not saying the universe at large has no interest or mercy around these types of concerns, but if a particular form of suffering needs to be a part of your life equation to further your overall evolution, you will not be magically relieved of that pain. Nor would you want to be if you could stand on a high enough mountaintop to survey your long-term life path.

From the universe's perspective, all of life's elements are neutrally valued. Discomfort is just as useful as anything else when it serves as a vehicle for generating awareness. In fact, I'd say it's substantially more effective than most.

In my work I see hundreds of people who would never consider rearranging themselves except for the pain that drives them to visit me. In hindsight, most of the clients who are able to shift themselves feel strongly that the benefits outweighed the costs.

My own story has been fraught with stubborn, painful holdouts as I defended against experiences and insights that threatened to pull me from my comfort zone into someplace scarier. I created layers of insulation between my awareness and the world around me, eventually becoming anorexic to life itself, starving psychically within my walls. Only when my fear of the ensuing immobilizing depression trumped my aversion to direct experience was I willing to come out and play. It was well worth it.

Verlin Darrow is currently a psychotherapist who lives with his psychotherapist wife in the woods near the Monterey Bay in northern California. They diagnose each other as necessary. Verlin is a former professional volleyball player (in Italy), unsuccessful country-western singer/songwriter, import store owner, and assistant guru in a small, benign spiritual organization. Before bowing to the need for higher education, a much younger Verlin ran a punch press in a sheetmetal factory, drove a taxi, worked as a night janitor, shoveled asphalt on a road crew, and installed wood flooring. He missed being blown up by Mt. St. Helens by ten minutes, survived the 1985 Mexico City earthquake (8 on the Richter scale), and (so far) has successfully weathered his own internal disasters.

Find out more at https://www.verlindarrow.com/.

Article published in The Relatable Voice Magazine - February 2026. Downolad the full magazine at https://www.relatable-media.com/the-relatable-voice-magazine.