Expect the Unexpected, and Keep Your Chainsaw Sharp
British playwright George Bernard Shaw once observed: “We don’t stop playing because we grow old; we grow old because we stop playing.” Something similar could be said about joy. We don’t stop feeling joyful because good things stop happening to us. Good things stop happening (or more accurately, we stop noticing the miracles happening all around) when we stop feeling joy. If true, joyful feelings may prove the pathway to noticing the many miracles that surround us.
Not long ago, my wife and I planned an outdoor pizza party for dear friends who had been instrumental in the success of our daughter’s wedding. Having recently overhauled our wood-fired brick pizza oven, mowed the lawn, prepared the dough and set the agenda, everything was party ready. Barely eight hours before our guests’ arrival, a crash echoed from the back yard. Running to the porch we discovered the unimaginable. A stately tulip poplar, standing guard for more than 100 years, had collapsed, filling the yard with branches, completely covering and possibly crushing the pizza oven! Moral? Expect the unexpected, and keep the chainsaw sharp.
This tree carcass now stood between us and our festivities, making me feel less than joyful. How was I to proceed, and with joy? Cancelling the party seemed unacceptable. Yet forward motion felt impossible. Step number one proved among the most difficult. I had to love what was! We could not succeed by denying the truth of the situation. An enormous tree now filled the back yard, blocking access to the all-essential pizza oven. I had to begin by honoring that singular truth. My work of acceptance involved doing the best I could in the face of what was real, without attachment to outcome. A grandmother tulip poplar now lay sprawled atop my pizza oven. Like my feelings about climate change, gun violence, racism and a failed political system, I had to accept (and even learn to love) my starting point.
Next came humor. Rather than rail against the frustrating unwanted circumstance, tempting as that was, we laughed at the absurdity of our situation. The yard had disappeared, vanished, and with it, our ability to make outdoor pizza. That was totally unexpected, and perversely comical. Laughing yoga has taught me to access belly laughter, even in the face of situations where nothing feels funny. This situation qualified for a good howl.
Perspective came next. Things could have been worse. A tree could have fallen on the house, or a bolt of lightning could have struck our friends. Nothing is guaranteed in life. At any moment, something unexpected could happen. Changing the way I saw the world changed the way I felt, and the way I would act. That shift in perspective can change the world itself!
Now came time for humility. I find it difficult to ask for help. But I could not possibly resolve this situation alone. I would have to ask for, and celebrate the gifts of others. Sheepishly, I enlisted the support of a dear friend and my young son-in-law. With leather gloves, eye protection and three chain saws, we got to work humbly reducing this old neighbor to firewood.
The availability of help led directly and authentically to profound gratitude. Where would I have been without these heroes in my life? No tree service would come to my rescue at a moment’s notice. For hours we toiled, cutting, hauling and stacking. Rather than collapse in self-pity, I felt deeply grateful for the support, which helped me to celebrate and rejoice in this day. Giving thanks for the good fortune of friendship unleashed my ability to see wonder, surprise, and possibility in this experience.
After five hours of constant use, my friend’s chainsaw overheated! Smoke began to pour from its motor, as it turned its final RPM. Dead! He stoically observed: “It was an old machine. It lived a long and productive life.” Here I found yet another opportunity for acceptance (it is what it is), perspective (at least my friend hadn’t been injured), humor (life is amazingly unpredictable) and gratitude (thankfully, it worked as long as it did.) Instantly I knew how to express my gratitude. Internet to the rescue. Within days, my friend would have a shiny new, state of the art, chainsaw. Later, with thanks, he assured me that the gift was unnecessary. But for me, responding to his brotherly friendship with grateful generosity was a straight path to joy.
Reduced to two chainsaws, no matter how hard we worked, we were never going to get this massive trunk completely removed. At that moment, forgiveness and compassion came into play. I called our guests to ask for their forgiveness. “Do you want to reschedule?” they offered. “No! We ask only that you understand, things will appear a bit chaotic.” Then, with self-compassion, I forgave myself for being able to do only what my strength and endurance allowed in the time available. Forgiveness, combined with humility, humor and acceptance allowed the party to move forward joyfully and on time.
The more I exercise these skills, the more I appreciate the Dalai Lama’s observation: “Joy is a byproduct of a life well lived. It’s much bigger than happiness.”* This wisdom guides me in much that I think and do. Every day I encounter new opportunities for applying these principles of joy . When I do, regardless of circumstance, the more joyful I feel and the more miracles reveal themselves. That two of my men were willing and able to support me at short notice was a miracle.
So expect the unexpected! Practice the eight habits of joy! And keep the chainsaw sharp. Joy and miracles will find their way to your door!
*See The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World, 2016 by Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu, Douglas Carlton Abrams, Random House, LLC.
