Fighting What Is--Part 2

It must be understood that The Work does not ask us to submissively accept whatever happens to us. It does not mean that we forget about what was done or condone it. We do not even try to talk ourselves into liking it. It's not learning to be passively apathetic. Far from it.

Rather, in doing The Work, we're trying to step outside ourselves; take a step back, and look honestly and dispassionately at our negative response. When we feel ourselves fighting reality, it's time to do some inner inquiry and see if our understanding of reality just might be a little distorted. The more we create stories, and the more we repeatedly buy into these stories, the more likely these fabrications are to become rigid and unrealistic beliefs that control us.

When we can step outside ourselves, however, we might find that we become curious—rather than angry. We open ourselves up to reality. We quit shrouding and obscuring reality. We begin to see the validity of the axiom, "The truth will set you free." The questions that Katie has us pose to ourselves help cast the shroud aside.

So when we do The Work, we find we are able to open ourselves to the truth. We gain a freedom that allows us to respond in creative ways that we were absolutely unable to comprehend, as long as we are trapped by our illusions. The result is that we begin to positively and constructively participate in the present moment. We break away from being trapped in the past. 

What then follows is change; real change. Our happiness follows this change. Let me put it a little differently: True happiness comes from me changing—not making the other person change.

Let me try a simple analogy. Say I'm trying to ski smoothly down a hill, but I bang into a tree. I get angry at it, and, as a result of getting pulled into a battle and obsessed with the past, I bang into more trees. I think that my happiness could be assured if those damned trees were changed…if they were cut down! 

But of course I'd never be happy skiing down a denuded hill. Even if I succeeded, I'd quickly find something else to bitch about. (“Who got rid of all those beautiful trees?”) How much more fun skiing could be, though, if I could find a way to be fully in the moment—fully alert, as I effortlessly and skillfully glide downhill, threading my way between the trees, because I see them coming! It's hard for me to see how to do that right now—especially when I'm so consumed with anger at those damned trees that seem to get in my way; especially the one I just hit.

The wisdom of Taoism tells me that if I apply an ounce of effort in the present moment—in harmony with the universe—that it's far more effective than applying a ton of force to fix something later. Let me apply a nudge now, guided by my attention to the present, rather than an angry fixation with the past. It’s my freedom. With it I help create a better future!