Perhaps one of the greatest lessons of the COVID-19 pandemic has been that life is uncertain. Despite all of our intelligence and technology and desire for stability, everything is subject to change. Of course, most of us have seen plenty of change.
As a young gen-X member (born in 1980), I was just coming of age when fear swept the world that at the moment clocks struck midnight on January 1, 2000, all of our computers would crash. This was the famous Y2K concern. Worst-case scenarios predicted airplanes dropping out of the sky as navigation computers stopped working, nuclear power plants melting down as cooling systems stalled, and entire power grids simply turning off. Eight years later the housing and banking bubble burst, leading to not quite a depression, but instead a “Great Recession.”
Older generations will have withstood their own global worries: nuclear war, DDT and “acid rain” killing off the world’s wildlife, two world-wars, the 1918 flu pandemic, and on and on. So in a way, our uncertain time on earth isn’t entirely unique. Humanity has been through all of this before and will likely go through future trials that we cannot even imagine. And if we’re lucky, we’ll develop ways of living and technologies that offer greater periods of peace and prosperity.
Centering Ourselves in Uncertain Times
When we’re in periods of uncertainty, from our jobs and relationships to climate crisis or the threat of a new world war, we can begin by finding a place of equanimity. In some traditions this is known as “centering.” For me, the breath is the first tool I rely on for centering. I take a deep breath in, and slowly let it out. I notice the rise and fall of my belly and chest.
From this place of calm and stability, I see myself as a bit of an observer of the change around me. Here, I am sturdy, like a mountain in a great storm. The wind blows around me. The trees sway. The leaves fly. But I simply sit and observe.
Just as the mountain cannot stop the wind and storm, I know that I cannot stop much of the change happening around me. I can do my best, and in fact can do quite a bit to ensure the safety of myself and my family. But even careful farmers have lost crops to freak hail storms or late freezes. And even careful investors can be pulled down when the markets sink.
We are in the midst of a huge, interconnected matrix of causes and conditions. And with humility we see that our place in it all is quite small. But then, of course, for us, this little place is very important. So we can step back from our focus on so much outside of us and instead sit and listen to our little place in the world.
A Zen or Daoist Parable
There is a wonderful Chinese story that has circulated through various religious traditions:
There is an old farmer who had worked in his fields for many years. One day his favorite horse ran away. When they heard the news, his neighbors came to visit. “So sorry for your bad luck,” they said sympathetically.
“Perhaps,” the farmer said.
The next morning the horse returned and it brought three wild horses along with it. “Such good luck!” the neighbors exclaimed.
“Perhaps,” replied the farmer.
The next day, the farmer’s son tried to ride one of the untamed horses. He was thrown off and broke his leg. The neighbors again came and expressed sorrow for the farmer’s bad luck.
“Perhaps,” responded the man.
The day after that, the country’s army officials came to the village to draft young men. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they allowed him to stay, while the neighbors’ sons were taken off to war. The neighbors again congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.
“Perhaps,” said the farmer.
The point of the story is not to be lazy or leave everything up to fate. Farmers, in ancient China as much as today, are perhaps the hardest working people in the world. The point is that even with all of that hard work, much of life is uncertain. We never know when something good or terrible might be right around the corner.
Leah Aguirre, LCSW, in a recent column on dating, addresses the pain of uncertainty in relationships, reminds us that pain and hurt are part of life. We cannot control everything and none of us are invulnerable. However, we can develop inner strengths to get us through the difficult changes when they come. These same strengths will help us make good use of the good changes when they come too.
Among her advice for riding the waves of uncertainty: mindfulness. It can help to simply be present with whatever feelings are arising. When we get some bad news, stay calm and notice how we’re feeling. How will this affect us? How have we prepared for this or similar news? Who can we reach out to for support?
Perhaps, like much of the war news for most of us in the US, there is no immediate threat and there is little we can immediately do. Sitting with this, we can acknowledge our feelings—perhaps of sadness and helplessness. Then we sit out the storm. These feelings too shall pass.
Other times, such as in a relationship, we can both sit with the feelings and work to sit with the feelings of our partner. This can be difficult, and we can take breaks to rest as needed. Being with our feelings allows us to maintain composure and compassion for ourselves and those around us.
Justin Whitaker, Ph.D., holds a doctorate in Buddhist ethics from the University of London. He has given lectures, and taught Buddhist studies and Philosophy at Oxford University, the University of Hong Kong, the University of Montana, and at Antioch University’s intensive study-abroad program in India. A certified meditation teacher, he is a regular contributor to Patheos.com, and Senior Correspondent for Buddhistdoor Global. He lives in Missoula with his family.