In life it is said, we often find “more problems than answers”; we attract calamities to ourselves with an almost superhuman ease, while grace and fortune stubbornly resist all our efforts of charm and cunning. It is also a well-known truth however, that one man's problem is another man's blessing to which the rule may also be inversely applied, and so before we complain about our problems we better be sure that we are actually in possession of a real one.
In the strictest possible sense, we might distinguish a real problem from a false one by the condition that any real problem will always work against our advantage in every case, whereas a false one will only prove problematic here and there. But very rarely if ever can we imagine such a cast-iron example: Failing to gain asylum to a country might seem like a predicament free of any possible benefit, however for all we know gaining it may have very well lead to a fate worse than death. Losing the love of our life may seem unbearable with no positive outcome at all, but we could well imagine a situation in which their continued presence may have indirectly lead to the death of our whole family. Even taking an extreme example in which we ourselves die an untimely and tragic death, such a tragedy may also be considered a great blessing in that it has ultimately delivered from the slow and tedious death of old age. And so if there is any real predicament to be faced, it is really no more than our inability to know for certain whether our disappointments are blessings in disguise, or whether our blessings merely conceal further disappointments.
In the strictest possible sense, we might distinguish a real problem from a false one by the condition that any real problem will always work against our advantage in every case, whereas a false one will only prove problematic here and there. But very rarely if ever can we imagine such a cast-iron example: Failing to gain asylum to a country might seem like a predicament free of any possible benefit, however for all we know gaining it may have very well lead to a fate worse than death. Losing the love of our life may seem unbearable with no positive outcome at all, but we could well imagine a situation in which their continued presence may have indirectly lead to the death of our whole family. Even taking an extreme example in which we ourselves die an untimely and tragic death, such a tragedy may also be considered a great blessing in that it has ultimately delivered from the slow and tedious death of old age. And so if there is any real predicament to be faced, it is really no more than our inability to know for certain whether our disappointments are blessings in disguise, or whether our blessings merely conceal further disappointments.
So let us look at this problem; the only one we ever have – our predicament of not knowing whether we have been cursed with problems or graced with good fortune, what would happen if we could know for sure whether a situation would in the long-run turn out to be advantageous or not? Well naturally we would be able follow each and every path we knew would lead to a favourable outcome, and in doing so create heaven right here on earth. But if we are convinced such a world would be heaven manifest, we have perhaps misunderstood the entire notion of paradise altogether: While it may be 'heavenly' to see every one of our plans come to fruition immediately and exactly as we envisaged, we would have also in the process cut ourselves off from the possibility of generating any new ones, since as every successful person knows: 'Good plans are not conceived in the comfort of security but in the turmoil of defeat'. By necessity then, our paradise would have to be one in which we could just as much expect disaster and defeat as success and bliss; an ethereal wonderland where good luck and bad luck happily existed side by side. If this is our definition of heaven however, could it not be that we are already in it? We seem after all, to have just described the exact conditions we find ourselves in.
Such a conclusion may not immediately seem obvious. It could well be argued in fact that the central flaw with our world is that our problems are often so many that we are not propelled by them into greatness, but mired down by them into self-despair. We are all familiar enough with those unfortunate individuals who have been disproportionately burdened with homelessness, terminal illness as well as a lack of steady employment. For these sorry people the possibility of rendering their situation as hopeful rather than tragic seems slim if not impossible. However, before we judge how many problems is one too many, it seems that we must first ask whether such a person would in fact recognise the blessing in having their situation completely transformed. All too often we accept good fortune not in the manner of a thankful adult but as a spoilt child finally receiving a present: "About time! I wondered when exactly you were going to give me my just deserts. Thank goodness you finally have!" And in this way it seems that our over-riding burden is not whatever positive accumulation of burdens we feel we have we have been unfairly apportioned, but rather the negative burden of simply failing to appreciate our blessings. It is perhaps only the individual who expects nothing from the universe and seeks nothing in return who is able to transcend this thankless state of mind and cherish every blessing that comes their way. This is the archetypal monk or sage presented to us throughout world religion. The person who has finally 'got it'. But if we think for one second that that we can transform ourselves to become this sort of person then we will have only succeeded in multiplying our burdens even further: If there is any central canon to the world's religions it is that as much as we would like to be Dogen or one of Christ's apostles we can only really succeed in being ourselves. This does not of course mean that we should not seek inspiration from the sage. It simply means we should not frustrate ourselves by mimicking something impossible. The sage after all is not some cosmic super being immune to all the horrors and disappointments that life naturally brings, the sage is only a sage in as much as he understands one simple thing – that in frustration resides the seeds of peace, and that in peace lurks the embryo of frustration.
Such a conclusion may not immediately seem obvious. It could well be argued in fact that the central flaw with our world is that our problems are often so many that we are not propelled by them into greatness, but mired down by them into self-despair. We are all familiar enough with those unfortunate individuals who have been disproportionately burdened with homelessness, terminal illness as well as a lack of steady employment. For these sorry people the possibility of rendering their situation as hopeful rather than tragic seems slim if not impossible. However, before we judge how many problems is one too many, it seems that we must first ask whether such a person would in fact recognise the blessing in having their situation completely transformed. All too often we accept good fortune not in the manner of a thankful adult but as a spoilt child finally receiving a present: "About time! I wondered when exactly you were going to give me my just deserts. Thank goodness you finally have!" And in this way it seems that our over-riding burden is not whatever positive accumulation of burdens we feel we have we have been unfairly apportioned, but rather the negative burden of simply failing to appreciate our blessings. It is perhaps only the individual who expects nothing from the universe and seeks nothing in return who is able to transcend this thankless state of mind and cherish every blessing that comes their way. This is the archetypal monk or sage presented to us throughout world religion. The person who has finally 'got it'. But if we think for one second that that we can transform ourselves to become this sort of person then we will have only succeeded in multiplying our burdens even further: If there is any central canon to the world's religions it is that as much as we would like to be Dogen or one of Christ's apostles we can only really succeed in being ourselves. This does not of course mean that we should not seek inspiration from the sage. It simply means we should not frustrate ourselves by mimicking something impossible. The sage after all is not some cosmic super being immune to all the horrors and disappointments that life naturally brings, the sage is only a sage in as much as he understands one simple thing – that in frustration resides the seeds of peace, and that in peace lurks the embryo of frustration.
Reflecting upon this subtle yet obvious truth and applying it to our original problem then: 'How do we distinguish our blessings from our misfortunes?' it appears we already have our answer: 'There are no inherently problematic or fortuitous situations. I’m afraid all this time you’ve been trying to work out whether the hill is an interpolation of the valley, or the valley an interruption of the hill when there is in reality no correct view to be had. Both perspectives may be interchanged ad infinitum.' Realising this we may no doubt get it into our heads that we have finally uncovered the secret that will win them the game: 'If every crisis is potentially a blessing in disguise then how wonderful! From now on I shall invert my perspective from now on so that all I see is blessings!' But this is quite mistaken. Being enlightened to the fact that problems and good fortunes are only constructs of our minds does not now mean it is practical (or even possible) to embrace every woe as a blessing. It means having the good sense to embrace our woes as woes. It is only in this way that they will take root as our catalysts for future growth and blossom into blessings. In doing so, we may natrually wish to recognise and cherish our blessings once they have finally flourished as well, and in many ways this can often prove the greatest challenge of all. But in reality our challenge is really no more strenuous than the spontaneous deduction our eye makes that there must be a 'hill' every time it sees two valleys next to each other. In the exact same sense, we need only take note of the problems going on all around us in order for the blessings right in front of us to fall into view. If we can adeptly master this, then in the most practical sense possible we will have grasped what every sage has known all along: “problems and successes are only a matter of perspective.”
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