The Only Way
My cell phone
rang just after midnight. I didn’t answer. Then it rang again a minute
later. I rolled over, grabbed the phone off the nightstand, and squinted
at the bright, glowing caller ID screen. “Claire,” it read. Claire is a
close friend—a friend who tragically lost her husband to a car accident
six months ago. And I figured since she rarely calls me in the middle of
the night, it was probably important.
“Hey, Claire,
Is everything OK?” I asked.
“No!” she
declared as she burst into tears. “I need to talk ... I need help ...”
“I’m listening,” I reassured her. “What’s on your mind?”
“I lost my
job this evening, and I’m tired, and I just don’t know anymore...”
“A job is
just a job. They come and go. Remember, Angel lost her job last year and
it was a blessing in disguise. She found something better.”
“I know, I
know,” she sighed over her tears, “I just felt like the world was going
to end after the accident... Ya know? And then my friends and family
helped me get back on my feet...”
“And you’re
still on your feet right now,” I added.
“Well,
sometimes I feel like I am, and sometimes I feel like Pm barely
maintaining my balance, and sometimes I feel like Pm falling again. And
this series of feelings just keeps cycling over and over again in a
loop—good days followed by bad days and vice versa. It’s just one long
struggle. And Pm exhausted!”
“But you keep
moving forward ...”
“Actually,”
she continued over more tears, “the only way I’ve found to keep myself
moving forward from moment to moment through the hard times is by
repeating a short saying my grandfather taught me when I was a kid. And
I don’t know how or why it helps now, but it does.”
“What’s the
saying?” I asked.
“Do your best with what’s in front of you and leave the rest to the
powers above you,”‘ she replied.
I smiled,
because I love inspirational ideas that help people progress through
even the hardest of times. And because it suddenly reminded me of a
short story my grandfather told me when I was a kid—one that’s also
applicable to Claire’s circumstance.
“Your
grandfather was a wise man,” I said. “And it’s funny, because your
grandfather’s saying reminds me of a short story my grandfather once
told me. Would you like to hear it?”
“Yeah,” she
replied.
My
Grandfather's Story
Once upon a
time, in a small Indian village, the village fisherman accidentally
dropped his favourite fishing pole into the river and was unable to
retrieve it. When his neighbours caught word of his loss, they came over
and said, “That’s just bad luck!” The fisherman replied, “Perhaps.”
The following
day, the fisherman hiked a mile down the bank of the river to see if he
could find his fishing pole. He came upon a small, calm cove in the
riverbank that was loaded to the brim with salmon. He used a backup
fishing pole to catch nearly a hundred salmon, loaded them into his
wagon, and brought them back to the village to barter with other
villagers. Everyone in the village was ecstatic to receive the fresh
salmon. When his neighbours caught word of his success, they came over
and said, “Wow! What great luck you have!” The fisherman replied,
“Perhaps.”
Two days
later, the fisherman began hiking back toward the cove so he could catch
more salmon. But a tenth of a mile into the hike, he tripped on a tree
stump and severely sprained his ankle. He slowly and painfully hopped
back to the village to nurse his health. When his neighbours caught word
of his injury, they came over and said, “That’s just bad luck!” The
fisherman replied, “Perhaps.”
Four days
went by, and although the fisherman’s ankle was slowly healing, he could
not yet walk, and the village was completely out of fish to eat. Three
other villagers volunteered to go to the river to fish while the
fisherman recovered. That evening, when the three men did not return,
the village sent a search party out for them only to discover that the
men had been attacked and killed by a pack of wolves. When the
fisherman’s neighbours caught word of this, they came over and said,
“You’re so lucky you weren’t out there fishing. What great luck you
have!” The fisherman replied, “Perhaps.”
“A few days
later ... well, you can guess how the story continues,” I said.
The Moral of
the Story
Claire
chuckled and said, “Thank you.” Because the moral of the story was
immediately clear to her. We just don’t know—we never do. Life is
unpredictable. No matter how good or bad things seem right now, we can
never be 100 percent certain what will happen next.
And this
actually lifts a huge weight off our shoulders. Because it means that
regardless of what's happening to us right now—good, bad, or
indifferent—it's all just part of the phenomenon we call “life,” which
flows like the river in my grandfather's story, unpredictably from one
occurrence to the next. And the smartest choice we can make is to swim
with the flow of the river.
Which means,
quite simply, not panicking in the face of unforeseen misfortunes or
losing our poise in the limelight of our triumphs, but instead “doing
our best with what’s in front of us and leaving the rest to the powers
above us.”