Who Knows What’s Good and What’s Bad?

The Chinese character depicting Tao, the centr...
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This week I’m going to share a traditional Taoist story that’s a favorite of mine:

When an old farmer’s stallion wins a prize at a country show his neighbor calls to congratulate him.  The old farmer replies, “Who knows what is good and what is bad?”  The next day some thieves steal his valuable animal.  His neighbor calls to commiserate with him but the old man replies, “Who knows what is good and what is bad?”  A few days later the stallion escapes from the thieves and joins a herd of wild mares, leading them back to the farm.  The neighbor calls to share the farmer’s joy, but the farmer replies, “Who knows what is good and what is bad?”  The following day, while trying to break in one of the wild mares, the farmer’s son breaks his leg.  The neighbor calls to share the farmer’s sorrow, but the old man replies, “Who knows what is good and what is bad?”  The following week the army passes by, forcibly conscripting soldiers into their army but they don’t take the farmer’s son because he cannot walk.

The neighbor thinks to himself “Who knows what is good and what is bad?”

Letting Go

I’ve lived a life that was very different than the life I’m living now.  I worked for a major corporation and earned a six-figure salary. I owned a convertible and my vacation souvenirs were diamond jewelry.

Then I was laid off.  Even though my co-workers and I had been warned that there were going to be layoffs, I somehow assumed that my assortment of skills and reputation for high quality work would protect me.  It didn’t.

As I write this its several years later.  By now I’ve been joined by many, if not most, of my friends in this world of layoffs.  Although we all talked about the possibility, none of us truly expected it.  And when it hit it was devastating.

When I consider my friends’ and my reaction to the loss of our jobs from a broader perspective, I realize that our pain isn’t just a result of what we lost, it’s also a reflection of our attachment to what we had.  The reality is that most of us live day-to-day with the unconscious assumption that things will never change, that what we have now is somehow permanent, ours to own.

The end of the assumption of “forever” eventually comes to all of us in some form, whether it’s the loss of a job, or a loved one, a relationship, a lifestyle, a home – the list goes on and on.  After we lose what we thought we would always have we recognize that nothing is forever.  And, because we’re human, our first reaction to this new reality is fear.

What drives this fear is the belief that if we lose what we have now there will be nothing to replace it.  We cling to the present not because we love it, but because it’s what we know.  In reality, I had come to hate the job I lost. I was no longer growing and learning – by the time I was laid off the only skill I was still sharpening was tolerance.  But when I walked out the door for the last time I still felt as though I’d been gutted.

Trying to lock down today into forever is futile, frustrating, and foolish.  The desire to hold on to an ending career, relationship, or lifestyle doesn’t serve anyone, not you or the people who are in the game with you – your co-workers, employers, partners, family members or friends.  By focusing on what was, we close ourselves off to what could be. We never get to experience the rich world of possibility that exists outside the limits of our present life.

Now, my life is almost the opposite of what it was five years ago.  I don’t have nearly as much money but I’m rich with new friends and experiences.  Starting my own business has increased my self-confidence and I’ve discovered a love for writing that feeds my soul.

I won’t lie, sometimes I look back and miss those fat pay checks.  But most days I’m deeply grateful for the freedom I now have and for all that I’ve been able to explore and accomplish in the last few years.  With this love for my new life comes a new awareness that things won’t be like this forever and the knowledge that I need to enjoy them while they’re here.

 

The Discomfort Zone

Map of the East Village neighborhood in Manhat...
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We’re all familiar with our Discomfort Zone.  It’s where we’re stretched, where we’re pushing our edges.  Just the thought of traveling there can make us fearful, and many of us work hard to avoid it.  We try to protect ourselves with a list of  ”I don’ts” – “I don’t drive in the city”, “I don’t make speeches”, “I don’t go to funerals”, or simply, “I don’t know how.”

It’s pretty easy to spot the folks who make a habit of avoiding their Discomfort Zones.  It’s the guy who hates his job but won’t look for a new one.  Or the person who ignores a medical issue.  Or the woman who refuses to go to social events for her husband’s work, leaving him to make excuses for her.

If we go through life dodging our Discomfort Zone our lives get smaller and even, in some cases, shorter.  There are things we need to do to take care of ourselves and manage our lives –going to the doctor when we have those mysterious symptoms, or weathering the stress of interviewing for jobs when we’re out of work.  And there are things we want to do that might require some discomfort – learning a new skill or visiting a foreign country.

The trick to conquering our Discomfort Zone is to simply go there and stay – not forever, not beyond our limits, but long enough to move past our fears and learn what’s there to learn.  I’ve found the more often I go into my Discomfort Zone the easier it gets.  The feeling of “I’ll die if I have to do this” fades and I gain confidence as I move into the experience.

It gets easier because much of what we believe about our Discomfort Zone is fiction.  We dream up exaggerated disaster scenarios – the crowd dissolving into laughter as we make our speech, hysteria at the funeral, getting lost forever in the city.  And, fearing we won’t be able to control what happens, we lose touch with the reality that we are capable of handling difficult situations.

What usually occurs when we venture into our Discomfort Zone is that we do fine.  We even may surprise ourselves and discover we’re better than we thought at navigating the city or public speaking.  But even if our outcome isn’t perfect, even if we’re uncomfortable at the funeral, or give a speech that’s merely serviceable – we still do ok, and that’s often enough to get through the Discomfort Zone.

What’s important is that we don’t let our fears get in the way of our growth.  That we trust in the fact that the Discomfort Zone is only uncomfortable because we make it so.

Because yesterday’s discomfort might just be today’s adventure.

Copyright © 2010    From The Easy Place