I heard Susan Piver talk recently about the “three poisons” in Buddhist teaching—what we reach for when things fall apart. One of them is “aggression.” This doesn’t mean resisting things that are harmful. She says this poison manifests in at least two ways:
I don’t want to feel what I’m feeling so I’m going to distract myself by talking about how bad things are.
OR
I don’t want to feel what I’m feeling, so I’m going to distract myself by talking about how good things are.
We might think of this as insisting on despair or positivity. Of course, we know that nothing is only one thing, at least not forever. We simply can’t see far enough into the future to make a determination. Systems thinking teaches us about unintended consequences. When we think we’re solving something, we are often creating another problem.
My husband is a firefighter trained in responding to hazardous materials. He and his crew are training to respond to toxic lithium battery fires from electric vehicles. These fires are not able to be extinguished and even a bit of the vapor can kill a human instantly. Remember when electric vehicles were supposed to solve all our problems?! This is a perfect example of unintended consequences.
You have probably heard the parable of the Zen farmer. I’m pasting it here because I am thinking of it every second of every day.
There once was an old Zen farmer. Every day, the farmer used his horse to help work his fields and keep his farm healthy. But one day, the horse ran away. All the villagers came by and said, “We’re so sorry to hear this. This is such bad luck.” But the farmer responded, “Bad luck. Good luck. Who knows?”
The villagers were confused but decided to ignore him. A few weeks went by and then one afternoon, while the farmer was working outside, he looked up and saw his horse running toward him. But the horse was not alone. The horse was returning to him with a whole herd of horses. So now the farmer had 10 horses to help work his fields. All the villagers came by to congratulate the farmer and said, “Wow! This is such good luck!” But the farmer responded, “Good luck. Bad luck. Who knows?
A few weeks later, the farmer’s son came over to visit and help his father work on the farm. While trying to tame one of the horses, the farmer’s son fell and broke his leg. The villagers came by to commiserate and said, “How awful. This is such bad luck.” Just as he did the first time, the farmer responded, “Bad luck. Good luck. Who knows?”
A month later, the farmer’s son was still recovering. He wasn’t able to walk or do any manual labor to help his father around the farm. A regiment of the army came marching through town conscripting every able-bodied young man to join them. When the regiment came to the farmer’s house and saw the young boy’s broken leg, they marched past and left him where he lay. Of course, all the villagers came by and said, “Amazing! This is such good luck. You’re so fortunate.” And you know the farmer’s response by now. “Bad luck. Good luck. Who knows?”
I don’t know, you don’t know, we don’t know. The universe, the cosmos, the human family that depends on the earth for air, water, soil? It’s all an improbable miracle in the first place. Things can change slowly, or things can change on a dime. People can become embittered and hateful. They can also kick addictions, become better parents, start taking responsibility for themselves and the well-being of those around them. I refuse to live as if the story is over. I refuse to declare that all is lost, or to declare that everything is alright. Bad luck. Good luck. Who knows? I am staying centered in love and staying tuned.