decaf, let’s face it while I like coffee I rarely get what I would consider
the perfect cup. So, rather than railing against the injustice of it all—
early morning and decaf—I decided that the cup of coffee I had been
given was the one that I needed and wanted that day. That cup of
coffee became the perfect cup of coffee for me to be drinking at that
time.
Doesn’t seem logical? Consider this: Was the decaf a nefarious plot
executed on me by my barista or was it more than likely just a simple
mistake? Was it possible, however unlikely,
the three shots of
espresso didn’t work on my tired mind and body? Had someone
switched cups while I wasn’t looking? It really didn’t matter so I
shrugged and moved on. No resentment, no complaint. In fact, it
tasted just fine despite the lack of caffeine. Going back to that coffee
shop to complain seemed ridiculous to me then as it still does today.
I will eventually go back to them to buy another cup as well because
they get it right most of the time and they are conveniently located
for the half dozen times a year I decide splurge.
Most cultures have a phrase for, “What are you going to do?” For the
French it is “
C’est la vie
,” which translates as, “That’s life.” For the
Japanese it is, “
Shouganai
,” which means, “There is no way of
doing/going.
[14]
” It’s the same everywhere because the mature mind,
the one that Musashi sought, understands the moment and moves
on. Baggage need not be brought with you into the future. That’s the
mature way of things, but there’s an opposite side too. Proclaiming
oneself a victim and railing loudly and to everyone who will listen the
litany of all the evils that have
befallen you has become a
fashionable pastime in popular culture. Nevertheless, gaining or
attempting to gain power by thinking of yourself as a victim is a
profound act of hubris.
Being a victim is the farthest thing from accepting things as they are.
To be angry at the world for what it does gives us a feeling of
frustration or anger and those
emotions validate the lower
consciousness. It’s like the body shouting, "I feel therefore I am!"
Learning how to accept the world for what it is, on the other hand,
makes your thoughts shift away from the realm of victimhood. There
are real victims in the world, without question, but the power lies in
the understanding of what is real and what is not rather than in
finding validation from your troubles from your peers. Once reality is
acknowledged, it can be dealt with.
Sometimes reality is incomprehensibly cruel, stomach-turning brutal,
and utterly horrific, but it’s still reality. Here’s an example: Gary
Ridgeway, the infamous “Green River Killer,”
was convicted of
murdering 48 women in Washington State. He confessed to killing
even more and even admitted to fornicating with some of the
corpses. Ridgeway agreed to a plea bargain when the DNA
evidence presented at his trial was conclusively nailed down proving
his guilt. In doing so he saved his life,
though he will be locked in
prison for the rest of his existence without any possibility of parole.
His negotiation for the life sentence was made possible because he
agreed to help authorities find the bodies of those young women still
missing who in all likelihood would never be found without his
assistance as part of his plea bargain.
Ridgeway remained essentially emotionless during his entire trial. At
the sentencing that took place after his plea bargain the judge
allowed his victim’s family members to address Ridgeway in the
courtroom. That moment was awful. One after another the families
came forward and told Ridgeway about their losses, about the pain
and devastation that he had brought on them. They told him about
their daughters, sisters, and mothers who were gone forever, taken
in the most violent and horrible manner. They put humanity to the
women who Ridgeway had seen as objects.
The killer sat silently,
taking in every bit of vitriol that was thrown at him. He listened to
people angrily wishing the worst for him, long painful suffering, and
more.
Then one man stepped forward. He stood in front of the murderer
who had killed his loved one and said, “Mr. Ridgeway. There are
people here who hate you. I am not one of them. You have made it
difficult to live up to what I believe, what God says to do… and that is
to forgive. You are forgiven sir.”
Ridgeway cried.
The man who forgave a serial killer now carries no resentment.
Resentment and complaint are easy. But stepping into the realm of
forgiveness
over a murdered child, an almost incompressible act,
makes the waving off of a bad cup of coffee pale in comparison.
From the perspective where I stand, this is the only way, sometimes
hard, sometimes minor. So again I agree with Musashi. And, again I
agree for different reasons. I believe Musashi comes from a position
of utilitarianism, I from a spiritual one, yet we both appear to arrive at
the same place.
Carry no resentment. Forgive.
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