Warning:  This post is NOT drama free and is only as deep and meaningful as you make it.

Just got back from the beach. And yes, it was another beautiful day in Hawaii.  I went to surf with my family but sat along the shore for about 15 minutes.  I wish I could say I was contemplating deep, spiritual, and philosophic thoughts but I can’t ’cause I wasn’t.  What I was doing was sitting on the sand watching the waves roll in because I was – cold.  There.  I said it.  Cold as in not warm, as in brrrrrr…I couldn’t motivate myself to get off the sand and into the water. So I sat there. And contemplated.  And thought.

One of my sons, Micah, was already in the water, catching waves, braving the icy chill of the noon time Pacific ocean.   He’s always been the first in, last out boy.  The other was contemplating the uh, conditions, with me.

Two things pushed me past the cold. It wasn’t the waves because the conditions weren’t that great (in fact, if I really had gone to surf I would’ve turned around and gone home instead). The first thing was that I had come to surf with my two boys, to be in the water, hang out, spend some time together.  They’re both getting older and pretty soon I’ll be going to the same beach but surfing alone.  I want to receive this day as the gift it is. Being and wanting to be “being,” both physically and spiritually in that moment, pushed me past my warm, comfortable spot on the sand.

The second reason I got in the water was that I recalled, simply and profoundly, my mortality.  Not only are my days of surfing with my teen-aged sons quickly passing, but my own days of physically being able to get out in the water and surf are measured.  I turned to the “contemplative” son next to me and said, “I’m going out and I’m going to relish in the cold!  I’m going to savor each moment of that initial, icy plunge because this is how I know I’m alive!  I can feel.  I want to feel.  I’m going out in that water and I will feel because I’m alive.”

No joke.  I’m not kidding or making this up.  This is what was going through my brain and what we were talking about.  A little dramatic?  Maybe.  (More like a little traumatic for my boy but he’s used to it…)  He raised one eyebrow, grinned at me, rose to his feet and moved to stand at the shore beside me.  When that first touch of cold blue hit my feet I slowed, but only for a moment.  Then I grinned, raised my one eyebrow, turned my face out to the sea, and keeping with the spirit of the moment, embraced the drama by yelling “I’m alive!” as I plunged into the waves.

You may have heard that saying “good is the enemy of best” but I’m thinking that good, and it’s doppelganger adjective bad may both be enemies of the soul.  There have been some times in the past few years where some good things happened, and at the time, these things seemed – good; they felt positive, beneficial even.  And I was happy. Then, as the world turned, those same previously identified good things turned into bad things.  And I became unhappy.

Now, I’m wondering if this dichotomous good/bad, up/down world-view is keeping me on the proverbial life roller coaster.  Should I be avoiding these extremes and search for constancy or could there be, maybe, another way to look at the situations?

Ancient Taoist Proverb

One day, a farmer’s horse ran away. His neighbors expressed sympathy, “What terrible luck that you lost your horse!” The farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not.”

A few days later, the horse returned, leading several wild horses. The neighbors shouted, “Your horse has returned, and brought more with him. What great fortune!” The farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not.”

Later that week, the farmer’s son was trying to break one of the wild horses and got thrown to the ground, breaking his leg. The villagers cried, “Your son broke his leg, what a calamity!” The farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not.”

A few weeks later, soldiers from the national army marched through town, conscripting all the able-bodied young men for the army. They did not take the farmer’s son because of his broken leg. Friends shouted, “Your boy is spared, what tremendous luck!” To which the farmer replied, “Maybe so, maybe not.”

Moral: Everything is not what it appears to be.

I’ve gone back and forth with questions abounding on the farmer’s maybe attitude.  Is living a life of non-judgment where there is no good and no bad a “good” thing?  Can I, or should I, even ask that question? Do I want to negate the highs in my life to avoid the lows? Is to live a maybe life to live a monotone life?

This story has fascinated me for years.  It has its analog in the New Testament book of Philippians where the apostle Paul states:

I am not saying this because I am in need, for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength.

If I superimpose Paul’s contentment with the farmer’s maybe I begin to get the picture.  Simply put, it’s good to be content.  I don’t want to live a life of no goods or bads for how could I be happy without the sad?  But my goods and bads are difficult to determine from my temporal vantage point.  How am I to know the difference?  Maybe I don’t need to know.  What I need is to be content.

Contentment is no cop-out, it’s not constant dull and dreary.  To live with contentment is different than to live with constancy.  Constancy, with no highs or lows, just a straight line life, is not the life this soul desires.  A straight line on your heart monitor is called a flat line, so call it a dead soul life, no bass no treble.  Contentment allows me to experience life fully, with all its glorious goods and bads.

So, it’s not good OR bad or maybe but rather good AND bad AND maybe.  This addition of maybe allows me to withhold judgment in favor of contentment, to substitute my limited perspective with limitless serenity.

And this, to my soul, is good.