The Hidden Blessings in Life’s Challenges

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Thank You & Many Blessings ::rävensärä::The Hidden Blessings in Life's Challenges From

that moment forward, I slowly, gradually learned to give up my anger,

resentment and judgment toward him. It didn't happen overnight, but

each day, over the course of the next few years, I made a little

progress. I learned to visualize each insult he hurled at me as an

arrow. I would try to catch it before it pierced my heart, set it down

on the ground, and send back a flower.Finally, one evening just

before my father died, I was sitting next to his bed when he

spontaneously began to shout at me in one of his familiar tirades. This

time, I couldn't see an arrow. I could only see that what he was

desperately trying to say, in his own very confused way, was that he

loved me. So I looked deeply into his eyes and said, 'I love you too,

Dad.'The volley of abuse spontaneously stopped. ... Tears welled up in his eyes.... by E. WelshonsIf

there were not the misconception that something wrong had taken place,

then it would be seen in its truer nature, which is simply another

blessing, another opportunity. But there is only suffering when there

is the belief that something is wrong.– EmmanuelOne of our

greatest challenges when we are in the midst of a great loss, great

sadness or difficult life circumstances is how to handle the voice in

our mind that says, "This is a mistake. This wasn't supposed to happen.

This is wrong."It is especially difficult when events take

place that seem random, unjust or unfair. No matter how non-judgmental

we aspire to be, there are still events that push us beyond what we

previously defined as our capacity to let go of judgment: the illness

or death of a child; a long-term injury, paralysis, or disability; the

loss of our life savings; an unjust war; a brutal murder or unprovoked

attack.Our mind's tendency to judge the rightness or wrongness

of these and other events in the physical universe is a major obstacle

on the path to freedom and happiness. I am not suggesting that these

kinds of heartbreaking, illusion-shattering events are good for us or

that we should welcome the sadness and desolation that can follow in

their wake. I am merely saying that these events are a part of

the universe of form. They are part of human life. And it is possible

that the creative impulse in the universe of form does not operate

according to the rules of rationality and justice we like to cling to.

From our soul's point of view, from God's point of view, these events

are neither right nor wrong.They just are. They are elements of life in form. But our sadness and desolation are also elements of life in form.We

might even perceive them as gifts the universe has left on our

doorstep. Gifts we surely don't want, and didn't ask for, but gifts

nonetheless. Sadness can give us the impetus to probe more

deeply into the truths embodied in our soul. Desolation can pave the

way for a longing that can completely transform our values, priorities

and lifestyle. Violence and injustice can inspire us to dedicate our

lives to eradicating the root causes of antisocial and unloving

behaviour.Still, the words "should" and "shouldn't" can be used

as accurate, reliable arrows that always point toward the places in us

where we resist the universe as it is. When we are suffering, feeling

violated, betrayed or angry, we need only look to see if there is a

tape loop playing in our mind that says, "This shouldn't have

happened... they shouldn't act this way... they should have done

something different... this shouldn't be the way it is. This is wrong."As long as that tape loop is going, we will remain caught in suffering.The

acceptance of things as they are in this context does not imply

complacency. It does not imply that we become callous and indifferent,

that we ignore cruelty and injustice. The acceptance of things as they

are is merely intended to alleviate the suffering we habitually create

in our minds with the desire to change things we simply cannot change.We

always have the freedom to work to make things better, to do what we

can to make the world a better place, to bring more compassion, more

caring, more kindness and more generosity into the environment. How

often do parents who have lost a child go to work to raise funds and

raise public awareness about whatever it was that "took" their child

from them? In that case, from the soul's point of view, the child's

legacy – her or his gift to the world – was to sacrifice their life in

a manner that might pry open hearts that were closed, to enliven minds

that were numb.In addition to our sadness, our anger can also be a clear indicator of where we are stuck.Back

in the early eighties, when my father was sick and dying of throat and

lung cancer, I was annoyed that he wasn't treating me nicely. I had

completely reorganized my life to make it possible for me to take care

of him. I had made significant sacrifices and felt I was being very

kind and caring toward him and he was responding with crankiness,

nastiness and insults.During that period, I went to visit Ram

Dass, who at the time was living in San Francisco. I took the first

evening of our visit as an opportunity to enumerate my litany of

complaints about my father's "unfair" behaviour.Ram Dass listened patiently.When

I finally calmed down and took a breath, Ram Dass leaned forward in his

chair and gave me a very penetrating look. He tilted his head sideways

in a slightly quizzical gesture, then spoke. "Don't you see that all

anger is anger at God?" he asked.I was a little stunned. It had

never occurred to me to reflect on the source of anger. I never thought

of it as anything other than justifiable outrage. But there was

something very powerful about Ram Dass's statement. In subsequent days,

as I thought about what he said, I began to realize that whenever we

get angry, what we're really saying is, "If I were God, I would have

made the universe better than this! I would have made a better father

than this one. I wouldn't have made obnoxious people who irritate me! I

wouldn't have made people who drive recklessly and cut me off on the

highway! I wouldn't have made people who disagree with me! I wouldn't

have made a world where babies can die!"But this is the world

we live in. Every thought that judges it as right or wrong is a thought

that separates us from the direct experience of our lives and, thus,

the direct experience of God. The most spiritually beneficial strategy

is to breathe deeply and let go of our attachment to things being

different than they are, let go of our attachment to the idea that we

would have done a better job than God. If we soften our hearts and

allow the universe to be exactly as it is, we allow for the possibility

that it is perfect just as it is, and we acknowledge that it may have

some very profound teachings for us just as it is.The next thing Ram Dass said to me was, "Why don't you see your father as your guru?""My father?!" I said."Yes," he said, "your father. After all, who else could he possibly be?"I was astonished. But I knew Ram Dass was right.Nevertheless,

I struggled for quite a while with what he suggested. But when I

finally began to see my father as my guru, my relationship with him was

totally transformed. Then, I no longer had to judge his words and

actions as wrong. Instead, I began to see that each time he said or did

something that hurt me, frustrated me, or angered me, he was teaching

me important things about myself. He was showing me where my

attachments and prejudices were so that I could begin to work on

letting go of them.From that moment forward, I slowly,

gradually learned to give up my anger, resentment and judgment toward

him. It didn't happen overnight, but each day, over the course of the

next few years, I made a little progress. I learned to visualize each

insult he hurled at me as an arrow. I would try to catch it before it

pierced my heart, set it down on the ground, and send back a flower.Finally,

one evening just before my father died, I was sitting next to his bed

when he spontaneously began to shout at me in one of his familiar

tirades. This time, I couldn't see an arrow. I could only see that what

he was desperately trying to say, in his own very confused way, was

that he loved me. So I looked deeply into his eyes and said, "I love

you too, Dad."The volley of abuse spontaneously stopped. His

body relaxed. He settled back into his pillow and began to gaze up

toward the ceiling. A blissful smile spread across his face. Tears

welled up in his eyes. Gazing upward toward the heavens, he lifted his

right hand up and began affectionately patting me on my left shoulder."Good. Good. Good," he kept repeating. "Good."At

that moment, I had the most remarkable feeling. I felt as if I had just

"graduated." And I felt as if an enormous weight had been lifted from

my father's shoulders. He seemed absolutely relieved. It was as if he

were saying to God, "Finally! It took 33 years, but the kid finally got

it! He finally got the teaching. He finally got that it isn't about how

miserable and nasty I can be. It's about how loving he can be." When we

said good night that evening, my father and I had such a delicious hug.

He died peacefully and gracefully the following afternoon.The

two questions Ram Dass asked me, and the lifestyle changes they

implied, have formed the groundwork for some of the most important

transitions in my life. They can work that way for you, too.First,

recognize that all anger is anger at God. It is anger at the way things

are. It is anger at the way people are. It is, as Byron said, "…

our arguments with reality." Second, begin to relate to

everyone you meet, everyone you deal with, as God in human form. Begin

to shift your perception so that your focus is more on observing your

reactions and judgments – how you distance yourself from others – than

on your fantasies about what changes might make that person better, or

more appealing, or easier to deal with. Learn to love them just as they

are.When we take the universe as it is, we can begin to open to

the lessons it is constantly offering us. What can we learn about love,

peace, compassion and equanimity in the midst of exactly the

circumstance we've been put in, eating exactly the meal the universe

has put on our plate? When we begin to look at life that way,

our everyday experience becomes our spiritual school, a thrilling,

divine romance in which our focus is no longer on how to change the

world but on how to change the aspects of ourselves that block our

ability to see and experience the One behind all the forms, the Love

inherent in each moment, the Divine inherent in everyone we meet.Excerpted from When Prayers Aren't Answered © 2007 by E. Welshons, published by New World LibrarySource: commonground.ca