Lifelong programming has taught us that everything in this life is somehow supposed to end “happily ever after.” Books of nursery rhymes, Bible parables and Disney stories pound into our head at an early age that, yes, life has it’s challenges and tragedies but in the end, everything will work out just dandy! The main story of the western world’s most popular religion follows this thought without wavering. The savior of the world— after a lifetime of doing good— is captured on trumped up charges and is brutally tortured and killed. In the end, he comes back from the dead, fries up a little fish dinner for his friends and then transcends into heaven, thereby saving the entire world from the consequences of a life of sin.
I’m not sure what it is about this philosophy that has kept it alive for thousands of years. I’m sure I can say I haven’t seen it happen consistently in my own life. From what I’ve been told, it doesn’t seem to work in the life of my friends either. We all seem to ride that nonstop E-ticket rollercoaster of life’s glorious highs and crappiest lows, somehow waiting for the ride to come to a gradual stop at a thatched beach hut in the Caribbean where we will spend the rest of our days sipping piña coladas and surrounded by swaying palm trees and frolicking hardbodies. The truth of the matter is that some of us, indeed, are lucky enough to glide into that thatched beach hut. Unfortunately, as we do so, just as many of our fellow riders fall out of the cart, hit the ocean and get eaten by sharks. It’s a brutal fact of life that no one makes it out alive and some people do so with a great amount of suffering and pain. Still we hand down the “happily ever after” stories to the next generation as if we somehow believe if we tell enough people they will be the ones to actually make it happen. “I’m a goner, but you go on and save yourself and the others!”
I suppose I ramble about this because of my own current situation. As I write these words, I find myself in the middle of one of my own “catastrophic” life dramas. My company, which has flourished for the most part of almost five years is tanking. Okay, so it isn’t death or terminal illness, but just the same it brings with it that sense of insecurity and doom that can totally rock the foundation of one’s world. However will I pay the bills? Keep my home? Pay my employees? Live a standard of life of which I am accustomed? Am I going to end up homeless? What will I do with all my “stuff?” What will all of my friends think about me? All of these questions run around in my head nonstop but I also notice that each question is accompanied by this nagging voice that, at one instant whines that all of this isn’t fair and at other times reminds me that everything will turn out okay. Apparently this voice firmly believes that life has nothing better to do than just stop and jerk me around for awhile before setting me back on the path to wellness and good fortune. In spite of any temporary episodes of terror, my actual future of peace and well-being remains intact. At least according to the voice. Stupid, stupid voice.
The fact is, I know better than all of that. It doesn’t always turn out “happily ever after.” Every day human beings in this world face intense challenges that make losing a business look like dropping a penny. Entire populations face drought, famine, civil unrest, oppression, murder, rape and countless other atrocities. Even if I lost everything I currently own, I would still be living the life of luxury compared to the situation of some beings. It is something I completely lose perspective on when my own ego-world becomes threatened. I find myself frantically praying to any God who is out there anywhere to listen to me and “fix” my situation. Why I feel like this is what I am owed, I don’t know.
In one of my panic-stricken moments today, I realized that no matter what happens to my own “life story,” I’m going to be okay. I have the abilities to get my company back on its feet and, even if that doesn’t happen, I am blessed with talents and the know-how to start doing something else. Ultimately, “happily ever after” doesn’t come from the up and down of the rollercoaster, it comes from the raising of the hands and the screaming at the top of the lungs. It is the combination of both the ups and the downs that give us the thrill of the experience. In this awareness, I know I am not the ride. I am the rider. Whatever shapes and curves the track takes, I can only let them come. It is all as it is and as it supposed to be. In the knowledge of that, there is a deep silence that quiets the inner voice and puts me right smack in the middle of the joy and the wonder of the moment.
But it still makes my stomach feel all funny.
Tags: acceptance, Life, loss, now
