a story about not needing to know
I had a blog topic all ready for today’s post to continue our theme of Everyday Mindfulness (Step 2 in the Freedom from Chronic Stress Program), but I’ve had a recent life event I feel led to share instead.
This is the practice of Everyday Mindfulness.
I turned down a really great career opportunity today. Really great.
I love being a coach, AND being a solopreneur can be very isolating, even for me as a big-time introvert. Part of my vision has always been to supplement my coaching practice with a steady, part-time teaching or consultant opportunity.
Something that would allow me to continue to have private clients, write, speak, and create while also having an anchor of steady work contributing in a team.
But it has never worked out this way, until a new opportunity came my way in recent weeks.
Long story short, I was offered a part-time gig doing what I love at a respected university. I was super stoked.
But the compensation came back lower than I expected. My travel costs would also not be fully covered, and I would need to absorb those out of pocket.
I expressed my concerns. I negotiated. There was no room for compromise.
I thought about the benefits this position may offer me in the long-term – the people I’d meet, the credibility it may lend me, the experience I’d gain.
I also felt the anger and resentment I would experience from being under-valued. The fatigue I would experience from long travel days. And the 1-2 days it would take me to recuperate from each travel assignment.
What will serve my highest good?
Am I being an asshole by wanting more than what was offered?
What will happen if I don’t take this position?
Is this an opportunity to be humble or stand tall in my value?
Will it be a big mistake if I say no, despite my reservations?
Will saying no ruin my chance for future opportunities to work there?
Will saying yes open up even more doors than I could imagine?
The mind wanders on and on.
It is never satisfied.
Sometimes it is perfectly clear when my ego speaks.
Sometimes it is perfectly clear when my heart speaks.
But in this situation, both felt hurt.
I’ve had enough life experiences, disappointments, and triumphs to know that no one decision will make or break me.
But I still want to make the right decision.
It reminds me of one of my favorite Zen parables, called, ‘We’ll See.’
Take a quick read…
“Such bad luck,” they said sympathetically.
“We’ll see,” the farmer replied.
The next morning the horse returned, bringing with it three other wild horses.
“How wonderful,” the neighbors exclaimed.
“We’ll see,” replied the old man.
The following day, his son tried to ride one of the untamed horses, was thrown, and broke his leg. The neighbors again came to offer their sympathy on his misfortune.
“We’ll see,” answered the farmer.
The day after, military officials came to the village to draft young men into the army. Seeing that the son’s leg was broken, they passed him by. The neighbors congratulated the farmer on how well things had turned out.
“We’ll see,” said the farmer.
The mind searches and clings to know answers with absolute certainty.
The ego screams fear of missing out, wants to be validated, and justifies hurtful emotions.
The mind wants to categorize everything as good or bad.
The ego does not wish you well, but the heart always does.
In my personal scenario, it was a challenge to know what the heart really wanted.
All I can do is sit with what I know to be true for now.
To not hope for something that may happen in the future.
To not fear what I may miss out on.
With this decision, my ego wanted to say yes but the minimum conditions to honor my values of sustainability, stillness, and appreciation were not going to be met.
What did I decide to do?
I walked away.
Not every decision will be 100% clear or feel right. Despite the urge to control, tune in, or figure it out, you’ll never know exactly how things will work out.
The more comfortable you become living in the unknown, the more peace you experience.
Do I feel good about my decision?
No. Today, both my ego and my heart are sad.
But did I make the right decision?
I really don’t know. I guess we’ll see.
