What on Earth Are You Trying to Teach Me
How not to compromise your sense of well-being
At work, I was drafting an important email to one of my clients urgently. My colleague, Benjamin, came toward me, probably to discuss something with me. While he was right by my side, he received a phone call.
He chose to be on the call for the next four minutes, which was all I had to prepare my draft.
When I write something, I need absolute silence around me — as silent as the dead. If you even think about talking while I’m writing, you’re dead to me. I need to be in the zone. If I’m not in the entire zone, I make terrible blunders — that could potentially kill someone.
During my self-reflection that night, I realized that the Benjamin incident had compromised my sense of well-being. I let that small thing turn into a BIG thing.
I asked myself, thinking about Benjamin, “What are you trying to teach me, Ben?”
The lesson was this: I could’ve thought of three hundred and sixteen other ways to handle that situation without compromising my peace. After all, it was just an email. It wasn’t a matter of life and death. It wasn’t going to matter six weeks from now, let alone a year. I let my soul suffer for a stupid email.
Now? I invite people to my cubicle while I draft emails to my clients. If they’re about to leave after their business with me, I say to them, “Wait! Why don’t you tell me about your weekend plans?” Nobody shuts up when you ask them about their weekend plans. So I get to practice being in the zone amidst the chaos.
What about their weekend plans? It’s always the same. They get wasted in the end. They all do. Or they’re going to have their first threesome. EWWW
Yesterday, I noticed two poor middle-aged people by the side of the road, asking passersby for money, tirelessly. That was hard to watch. I was never going home until I could do something — however little — for my fellow humans. I donated some money to both.
One person said, “Come on! You can give me more.” That, for some reason, made me livid. Another person said, “Thank you so much, Sir!” with a beautiful smile.
I had given them more than I could afford them. It still wasn’t enough for one.
I asked myself later, “What are you two trying to teach me?”
The lesson was this: When no passer-by cared, I went out of my way, literally — I had to cross the road — to do something good for those people. I didn’t have to. But I wanted to. People can be ungrateful. People can feel entitled.
Ungrateful NOT to me. Ungrateful for their better situation, however little, and still complain, feeling entitled.
Why was I livid? That made me even more livid.
I told myself that I have to be grateful for everything I’ve been given. I should never feel entitled. Even when people do something for me — however little — I should thank them sincerely and never say, “Come on! You can give me more.” Nobody owes me anything. Not even a higher power, if there is one.
The people we come across and the situations we’re put in, they’re all trying to teach us something. Maybe it’s about our patience, courage, humility, adaptability, honesty, being less judgemental, more compassionate, and not getting annoyed by things that mean nothing in the grand scheme of things.
Almost all the events are objective. It always comes down to how we choose to interpret it. I choose to see everything, especially bad, as a lesson, which brings me so much clarity, peace, and gratitude. It puts things in perspective.
For instance, if your boyfriend/girlfriend cheats on you or ghosts you, the lesson could be that people can be untrustworthy and lack integrity and you shouldn’t be overly attached to anyone. If you put them on a pedestal, they’re going to let you down at some point. It’s physics. People’s priorities change. People change. No good thing ever lasts.
If you learn anything from it, you won’t be eternally complaining or worrying or feeling victimized, wasting your limited time and potential on earth.
I ask you this simple question — why would you want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with you?
They don’t owe you to spend the rest of their life with you, if they don’t choose to. It’s their life, too. Get past your self-pity and get busy living. It’s your life, too. You can still gracefully love them with all your heart, if you ever did at all, without any resentment so you can be at peace with yourself.
If you’re determinedly focused on justifying that you’re right and they’re wrong, you’re missing the point.
Bad situations/people teach us more than good situations/people. Maybe Adolf Hitler teaches us more than Mother Teresa does. Maybe bad things happen to us, only to teach us a lesson so we grow from it, humanly possible, to fulfill our potential. That’s the end.
Next time you find yourself in a bit of a predicament or feeling annoyed with someone, try to ask yourself, “What on earth are you trying to teach me?”
Don’t ever ask them that question. They wouldn’t necessarily know they’re teaching you. If they did, ironically, you wouldn’t be learning the lesson.
As the late psychotherapist Richard Carlson said in his famous book title itself, “Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff…and it’s All Small Stuff.”
Now, why don’t you tell me about your weekend plans?