During a recent Heart Mastery Circle session, I posed a provocative question to my students: “All suffering is self-created—true or false?”

The room went quiet.

Then came the responses. Half said true. Half said false.

So I asked a second question: “For those of you who said true—or even partially true—what percentage of your suffering do you think you actually create?”

“Thirty percent,” one participant offered. ”Forty percent,” said another. ”Eighty percent.”

Each number was right. And each was incomplete.

Here’s what I’ve discovered after two decades of coaching heart-centered leaders and studying both ancient contemplative traditions and modern neuroscience: Human suffering operates on two distinct levels.

There’s the pain that comes with being alive—loss, aging, illness, death. This is what the Buddha called dukkha, the fundamental unsatisfactoriness woven into existence itself. You didn’t create it. You can’t think your way out of it. It simply is.

Then there’s the suffering we pile on top—the stories, the resistance, the endless mental loops that turn a moment of discomfort into months of torment. This is the suffering we create through fear, attachment, and ignorance. Research suggests this self-created layer accounts for 30-80% of our total emotional distress, depending on the situation and person.

But here’s what most articles about suffering won’t tell you: Recognizing that you’re creating unnecessary suffering isn’t about blame. It’s about reclaiming agency in the one arena where you actually have some.

In this article, I want to go deeper than the typical “all suffering is self-created” platitudes. I want to show you exactly how we create unnecessary suffering, using stories from my own life and my students’ experiences. More importantly, I want to give you a practical way to recognize these patterns and begin releasing them.

Life hurts enough on its own. This article is about learning to stop making it worse.

Unnecessary Suffering: How We Create It and What You Can Do to Minimize It

The Two Types of Suffering—And Why the Difference Matters

When my sister died seven years ago, I couldn’t attend her funeral due to visa complications. The grief that tore through me wasn’t something I manufactured with negative thoughts. It was the raw, unavoidable pain of loss—the kind that comes with having a human heart in a world where nothing lasts forever.

This is pain. Real, legitimate, life-inflicted suffering that happens to us.

But then there’s what happens next.

I held onto my sister’s death with a grip that turned grief into something darker. I replayed every moment I’d failed her. I tortured myself with “what ifs” and “if onlys.” I refused to accept that visa complications were beyond my control, instead beating myself up for not having a valid passport. That additional layer of torment? I created that.

A Harvard study found that our minds wander 47% of our waking hours, and that this mind-wandering—not external circumstances—accounts for 95% of our moment-to-moment unhappiness. We’re not present with what is; we’re lost in catastrophic fantasies about what might be or agonizing over what was.

Pain is Inevitable, but Suffering is Optional

From the highest spiritual perspective, yes—all suffering arises from the ego’s attachment to how things should be rather than accepting how they are. The Buddha taught this 2,500 years ago. Stoic philosophers echoed it. Modern psychology confirms it.

But here’s what I’ve learned from working with real humans facing real struggles: That high teaching, while true, can feel cruel when you’re drowning in emotional pain.

The distinction I’m offering isn’t about transcending the human condition or achieving some enlightened state where nothing bothers you. It’s about damage control. It’s about saying: “Life is going to hurt. People you love will die. Your body will age. Disappointments will come. But let’s stop pouring gasoline on fires that would naturally burn themselves out.”

The Buddhists have a beautiful way of expressing this: Pain is inevitable, but suffering is optional. Pain is what life delivers. Suffering is the ongoing story we tell ourselves about that pain—and the many ways we perpetuate it through our resistance, our judgments, our refusal to let go.

The Seven Ways We Create Unnecessary Suffering

After analyzing hundreds of conversations with clients and students, I’ve identified seven primary patterns through which we manufacture suffering. These aren’t character flaws to shame yourself over—they’re simply ways our survival-oriented minds try to protect us that end up causing more pain.

1. Fear (Especially Fear of Others’ Opinions)

During our circle session, one participant shared: “My biggest suffering has been fear—fear of what people will think of me. My father used to say, ‘What will people think of you?'” That programming didn’t disappear when she grew up. Decades later, it stopped her from offering energy healing services, from volunteering, from speaking up in her marriage.

I know this pattern intimately. Years ago in South Africa, I couldn’t pay rent. Instead of having an honest conversation with my landlady, I’d sneak in late at night, terrified she’d confront me. The suffering came not from the financial difficulty itself, but from the fear—fear of letting her down, fear of being kicked out, fear of being seen as a failure.

Research on social anxiety shows that our threat-focused interpretations amplify distress by 60-80% beyond what the actual social situation warrants. We’re not suffering from reality—we’re suffering from our catastrophic projections about reality.

2. Stubbornness and Rigid Thinking

One participant shared: “One of the biggest fights my husband and I ever had was about hanging a mirror. I knew how he reacts to changes. I could have done it myself or just let it go. But I insisted, insisted, insisted—and caused so much unnecessary heartache for both of us.”

Stubbornness is clinging to our perspective even when we can see it’s creating suffering. It’s the refusal to consider that maybe there’s another way to look at things.

I see this in myself constantly. I’ll compare my progress to other spiritual teachers and get stuck in the story that I “should be” further along. Even when I can see this comparison is torturing me, part of me refuses to let go of the measuring stick.

3. Pride and the Need to Prove Yourself

One participant named this honestly: “I needed to prove I was good enough. Because I didn’t finish school, I was always told I wasn’t educated enough. So whenever I accomplished something, I had this pride—this need to show what I could do.”

That pride drove her to attempt building an entire hillside garden in one weekend. The result? Severe carpal tunnel requiring hospitalization.

In my own life, I recognize this when I beat myself up for not having “fancy products, guided meditations, making a million a year” like other spiritual teachers. My inherent lovability gets tied to achievement rather than simply being me.

The wound runs deeper. When I was young, I overheard my father say, “Gabriel doesn’t have a personality.” That single moment shaped decades of striving to become a perfect version of myself—an achiever who could prove his worth. The suffering comes from believing my value depends on what I accomplish rather than who I am.

4. Attachment to Specific Outcomes

After a breakup years ago, I became obsessed with the idea that this person was my soulmate. For three years, I held onto that narrative. Three years of emotional torment, replaying conversations, checking social media, hoping they’d come back.

Most people would have moved on in six months. But I was attached—not to the person anymore, but to my story about what the relationship meant, what I’d lost, what “should have been.”

Here’s the truth: Some initial grief after a breakup is natural and unavoidable. But 75% of my suffering during those three years? Completely unnecessary. I created it by refusing to accept reality.

5. Ignorance and Naivety

Ignorance here doesn’t mean stupidity. It means not seeing situations clearly, often because we’re projecting our own values onto others.

This particularly affects heart-centered, spiritually-oriented people. We assume others will operate with the same integrity, honesty, and care that we bring. When they don’t, we’re blindsided—and then we torture ourselves: “How could I have been so stupid to trust them?”

But the suffering isn’t from the betrayal itself. It’s from our harsh self-judgment about not seeing it coming.

I’ve created enormous suffering this way—giving myself too quickly in relationships and business partnerships, then agonizing over “how could I have been so blind?”

6. Impatience and Forcing

One participant named this during our session: Her suffering around not embodying her dreams came partly from impatience, from the question “Why can’t I create this as easily as others seem to?”

I know this pattern intimately. Working on a vision as large as mine creates constant overwhelm. When I focus on one area, I suffer because another area isn’t progressing. When progress feels too slow, I become paralyzed and frustrated, which ironically slows things down further.

Impatience says: “The natural timing of things is wrong. I know better. I can force this.” The universe, predictably, responds by teaching us otherwise.

7. The Hidden Payoff: Why We Hold Onto Suffering

Here’s the pattern nobody talks about—the one that makes all the others stick: We get something from our suffering.

During our circle session, as participants shared their stories, I noticed something: There was energy around the suffering. Animation. A kind of aliveness that came from recounting the pain. And I understood—because I’ve done this too.

Suffering gives us sympathy and attention from others, identity and story, connection through shared misery, permission to not try, and righteousness—proof that we’re good people who’ve been wronged. This isn’t good nor bad. It’s human.

One participant realized she wasn’t moving forward with offering her healing gifts partly because staying stuck gave her something to talk about. The suffering had become familiar. Safe, even.

I see this in myself when I share my overwhelm about my vision. There’s a subtle pleasure in being the person with the “impossible dream,” the martyr struggling nobly. It’s easier than actually doing the unglamorous daily work of making it real.

Sometimes we hold onto suffering because the alternative—freedom, responsibility, authentic power—terrifies us. Let that sink in for a moment.

The Practice: A Heart-Centered Release

I want to share the same practice I led my students through at the end of our session. This isn’t about “getting over” your suffering or forcing yourself to feel differently. It’s about bringing compassionate awareness to the patterns, which naturally begins the dissolution process.

Find a quiet space. Place one hand on your heart. Take three deep breaths, allowing your body to settle.

Bring to mind that situation where you’re creating unnecessary suffering. See yourself in it, as if watching a movie of your life. Notice how you’re showing up. The feelings you’re feeling. The expression on your face. What pattern are you feeding?

Send yourself love. Not judgment. Not fixing. Just love. Imagine embracing that version of yourself who’s in pain, saying: “I see you. I know you’re hurting. Even though some of this suffering is unnecessary, you don’t deserve it. I’m with you.”

Now become that person in the situation again. Feel the suffering fully. And as you gently tap on your thymus gland (two fingers below your collarbone), repeat these intentions aloud or silently:

I am now becoming aware of all my pain and suffering.

Most of this suffering is unnecessary.

I am creating it out of_________ (fear, stubbornness, pride, attachment, ignorance, impatience, the hidden payoff).

I now choose to let this suffering go.

It’s time to stop punishing myself.

Pain is a natural part of life, but holding on to that pain is not.

I deserve love and peace.

The more I let go of the need to suffer, the lighter I feel.

So I choose to let go of this unnecessary suffering and the many ways I am creating it.

Choosing love, peace, and harmony.

Letting my heart guide me on this journey.

Take three more deep breaths. Notice what shifted—even if it’s subtle. Maybe a slight softening in your chest. A loosening of the grip. That’s awareness at work.

What Happens After Awareness

During our circle session, something profound happened when participants began naming their patterns. The awareness itself created immediate shifts.

One participant realized her exercise avoidance wasn’t about her vertigo anymore—it was about fear. “This is fear talking,” she acknowledged. “My doctors have approved gentle movement. What if I started with five minutes?” That recognition alone gave her agency.

Another saw that her work suffering wasn’t just about difficult tasks—it was about stubbornness and refusing to trust others. Once named, she could ask: “What would it take to let go? To delegate? To trust?”

A third participant had a breakthrough around the very word “suffering” itself: “For me, suffering always meant something huge. But it’s actually these little things that don’t allow us to keep moving forward. Being aware and being able to admit it—that’s the step.”

The pattern was clear: Awareness itself is the intervention. You don’t need to become perfect, fearless, or completely healed. You just need to see the pattern clearly enough that you stop unconsciously feeding it.

Final Thoughts

Pain is an inevitable part of life, but prolonged suffering is not. We cannot control what life delivers—loss, aging, disappointment, death. But we can choose, moment by moment, whether to pour gasoline on those fires or meet them with awareness and compassion.

Research from Harvard shows that most of our unhappiness comes not from our circumstances, but from our mind’s wandering—our catastrophic projections and agonizing replays. The ancient contemplatives understood this. The Stoics taught it. And my two decades of coaching people from all walks of life has proven it again and again.

Life will provide plenty of unavoidable pain. Your work isn’t to eliminate suffering entirely—it’s to stop being its co-creator.

This is the sacred work we do in our Heart Mastery Circle every week. We create a dedicated space where you can be seen, heard, and supported as you recognize where you’re creating unnecessary suffering—and gently learn to let it go. Not through forced positivity or spiritual bypassing, but through honest inquiry, compassionate awareness, and the support of fellow travelers on this path. If you’re interested in joining us, you can learn more about it here.

In closing, let me ask you: When you look honestly at the situations causing you distress right now, how much of that pain are you amplifying through fear, stubbornness, pride, attachment, ignorance, impatience, or the hidden payoffs of holding onto your story?

And here’s the real question: Are you willing to shine the light of awareness on the many ways you’re creating this suffering? Are you ready to meet yourself with the same compassion you so easily extend to others?

The world needs you awake, not perfect. Present, not transcendent. Living with a compassionate feeling heart that extends to yourself and to others who are caught in cycles of unnecessary suffering.

From my heart to yours,

—Gabriel

PS. If this exploration of unnecessary suffering resonates with you and you’d like to go deeper, I invite you to join our Heart Mastery Circle—a supportive community where we practice these principles together. In a world that often feels overwhelming, we create space to witness our patterns, release what no longer serves, and remember the peace that lives beneath the noise.

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