Jensen column: When bad things happen...or good

Ever notice how the very old seem to take life with greater equanimity? Their boat is rarely rocked by the kind of news that younger folks spend a lot of energy worrying about, resenting, regretting.

They have lived long enough to know what may appear at first to be good or bad luck might change down the line. Events can play out far differently than one might expect, and have unanticipated repercussions or dividends.

There is a famous Taoist story which illustrates this principle:

This farmer had only one horse, and one day the horse ran away. The neighbors came to offer condolences over his terrible loss. The farmer said, "What makes you think it is so terrible?"

A month later, the horse came home--this time bringing with her two beautiful wild horses. The neighbors became excited at the farmer's good fortune. Such lovely strong horses! The farmer said, "What makes you think this is good fortune?"

The farmer's son was thrown from one of the wild horses and broke his leg. All the neighbors were very distressed. Such bad luck! The farmer said, "What makes you think it is bad?"

A war came, and every able-bodied man was conscripted and sent into battle. Only the farmer's son, because he had a broken leg, remained. The neighbors congratulated the farmer. "What makes you think this is good?" said the farmer.

• • •

Much the same thing has occurred in my life and the lives of most people I know.

Cheryl for example.

Cheryl lives a full, busy life. When her youngest was 9, Cheryl stood up one day and felt a sharp pain in her left knee and shortly thereafter in her right. The doctor's diagnosis: arthritis. Cheryl was told at least partial knee replacements were in her future and her daily activities were significantly limited.

What a cruel twist of fate for such an active person and family. Cheryl decided to see a specialist, and that decision saved her life.

The orthopedist confirmed her severe arthritis. He saw something else on x- ray, too. Cheryl had an enchondroma, a benign tumor in her right foreleg. This was an “incidental finding” - there were no symptoms from the tumor. The tumor was watched carefully to make sure it was not spreading.

When it grew, the surgeons removed it. Cheryl thanks God for the arthritis now. Without it, she likely would not have found the cancer until after it had metastasized.

Mr. Weinmann, our high school social studies teacher, had been the only one of his peers to pass the rigorous public school teachers exams in NYC during the great Depression. Such a job felt like winning the lottery at the time. His envious friends went into business because jobs were so scarce for people with college degrees at that time. Forty years later they were all quite wealthy while he was living in a garden apartment in Flushing, Queens in a career he detested. He now perceived passing that exam as the worst luck of his life.

Yvonne, the not particularly talented group manager for my husband's section at work, was oftentimes in over her head. She frequently asked my husband to stay late and help her out as he was the only one “smart enough to do the job.”

When a family connection allowed her to get a job at an elite financial company, where even the secretaries became millionaires, Niels came home elated.

“This is it! They need network engineers at Yvonne's company. You can only get an interview if you have a personal recommendation from an employee. I'm in!” To his amazement, Yvonne never returned his calls or emails. It felt like he'd been sucker punched. He tried to make light of it — “perhaps I'll get a better job somewhere else.” We both knew that would not happen. This was the ultimate opportunity — a guarantee of permanent financial security that had disappeared. Three years later, on Sept. 11, Yvonne and every person in her company at work that day died at the top of the Twin Towers.

Buddhists advocate the Middle Way. This means doing one's best with the information at hand, and then being at peace no matter how the chips fall. It means enjoying the day and the holiness of simple daily activities, without fretting about the past or future.

Our experiences are single threads in a carpet. The pattern emerges many threads down the line.

Both with things that appear to be good and things that appear to be bad, we need to reserve judgment and see how it all plays out. This is ancient wisdom. 2,500 years ago philosopher Lao Tzhu said:

“Be content with what you have;

rejoice in the way things are.

When you realize there is nothing lacking,

the whole world belongs to you.”

Dr. Susan Jensen lives in Salisbury.