We come hard-wired to kvetch about the past and fret about the future. Or, less often perhaps, to savor something in the past and be excited about something in the future.
There's a wonderful old Chinese story about a farmer who takes a wiser view.
---
Once upon a time there was an old
farmer who had worked his crops for many years. One day his horse ran away.
Upon hearing the news, his neighbors came to visit. "Such
bad luck," they said sympathetically.
"Who can say?" the farmer replied.
The next
morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses. "How
wonderful," the neighbors exclaimed.
"Who can say?" replied the old man.
The
following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and
broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his
misfortune. "This is so tragic!" said the neighbors.
"We'll
see," answered the farmer.
The day
after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army.
Seeing that the son's leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors
congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.
"We'll
see" said the farmer.
My friend Terry keeps the following Anthony de Mello quote at the bottom of his emails:
"A neurotic is someone who worries about things in the past that never happened. Not like us normal people who only worry about things in the future that won't happen."
"A neurotic is someone who worries about things in the past that never happened. Not like us normal people who only worry about things in the future that won't happen."
One thing mindful practice always does over time is show us what goes on in our day to day thinking. I've never met any 'normal' person whose mind doesn't work at least a little like this de Mello quote. We may not be worried about stuff that never happened but we surely worry about stuff that did--and are regularly anxious about stuff that might or might not happen in the days ahead.
One way of doing mindful practice is every time we notice we're being somewhat haunted by a past action--expecting to reap something 'bad'--we simply get in the habit of saying to ourselves, "Who can say?" We incarnate that farmer's wisdom. Again and again. Who can say?
If it happens, it happens. God give me wisdom to deal with it if and when it comes.
Catching ourselves worrying about something in the future, predicting some negative outcome as if we were some kind of prophet, we let go of this wacky fiction and say instead, "We'll see." To do this is simply standing firmly on the good warm earth of human limits--acknowledging (duh) we're not prophets.
Whew. What a relief. Usually the deepest spirituality is about being more human, not less human. How many times have you worried about something in the future that never happens? Or happens very differently that how you predicted?
Most of us have gotten so used to operating this way we feel strangely irresponsible if we're NOT worrying about the future!
There are better ways to move toward tomorrow and tomorrow.
And better ways to work with all our yesterdays.
If we decide to try working more and more like the farmer in this old tale, I could predict we'd all be wiser, healthier, and happier. But, then again, "Who can say?"
