Happiness Is an Inside Job

No One to Blame: How Equanimity Inspires Wisdom It's always good to start with a story. I was wending my way slowly, along with hundreds of people, back and forth through the cordoned-off lanes of an airport security line, when I became aware of the conversation of the two people right behind me: "It's your fault!" "What do you mean, 'It's your fault'? It's your fault!" "That's what I mean. It's your fault we're late." "No, it's not. Prove it to me that it's my fault." "I don't have to prove anything to you. It just is." I glanced behind me, as if looking beyond them, and saw that they were young, casually dressed, and apparently (was it tennis rackets, golf gear?) were going on holiday together. The Ping-Pong recriminations continued. "Your fault." "No, yours." I had a momentary impulse to turn around and say, "Listen to me! It does not matter one bit whose fault it is. Either you'll be in time for your flight or you won't. And if you miss this flight, there will be others. What's more, you don't know that this flight is the best one to be on. Perhaps this one will have engine trouble and the next one will arrive safely. Relax! You are ruining the beginning of your holiday with a useless skirmish." Of course, I didn't say anything. I think I could have gotten away with it if I had done it sweetly enough, but I imagined them telling someone later, "You won't believe what this wacky little old woman in the airport . . ." Anyway, eavesdropping and intruding are both impolite, even if unintended and well meaning. I took off my jacket and shoes and pushed them through the X-ray machine along with my carry-on bag with my computer out for inspection. Retrieving my possessions on the other side, balancing on one foot and then the other to hurriedly put on my shoes, I noticed the couple just in front of me, also just emerged through the sensor gate, taking a moment to kiss each other, give each other a hug. I was amused by the thought that they were congratulating each other for having made it through the security hurdle unscathed. It was the briefest of exchanges of affection, but it was there. Right in the middle of getting re-dressed. Then I thought, "I should call the attention of the arguing folks behind me to the kissing folks in front of me. 'Look,' I could tell them, 'here is another possibility. In fact, there are only two possibilities in any moment. You can kiss or you can fight. Kissing is better.' " Of course, I said nothing and went on to my flight. I also knew then, as I know now as I write, that in situations where I feel stressed, I might behave like the couple behind me. Not even "long ago, when I wasn't wise," but right now, when I presumably understand that struggling with anything to make it be other than what it is creates suffering. If my mind becomes confused, broadsided by a challenge that upsets it, even a "minor" one such as "I'll miss my plane," I forget, at least for a while, what I know. Becoming wise means, for me, forgetting less oftenand remembering sooner when I've forgottenthe three things that are fundamentally true. The Buddha called these the Three Characteristics of Experience. Everything is always changing. There is a cause-and-effect lawfulness that governs all unfolding experience. What I do matters, but I am not in charge. Suffering results from struggliBoorstein, Sylvia is the author of 'Happiness Is an Inside Job', published 2007 under ISBN 9780345481313 and ISBN 0345481313.