There’s no need to fuss.

Everything is “perfect.” 

This phrase doesn’t mean our day is wonderful and requires scant improvement. (Nor does it mean the speaker lives in an alternate universe.) The phrase means that everything has transpired precisely the way it was supposed to.

Three unexpected projects dumped on your desk by a vacation-bound supervisor? Perfect!

Your name added to the updated volunteer list after you had notified the group of your future unavailability? Perfect as well.

The perfect outcome isn’t the fantastic one we imagined, but an appropriate one. There’s no point fussing over how things can be different. If they are to be different, they will be. But none of that is happening. Let’s accept reality and quit wasting time and energy on our disappointment. Instead, tell yourself “It’s perfect!”

Thankfully, most things happening in our lives can indeed become more bearable, and sometimes even humorous, when we summon forth our newfound motto.

“In the face of war, social injustice, 

religious conflict, what difference can I make? 

Can I even make an impact?

The odds are overwhelming. It's pointless”

Frankly, what matters is that we do what is right, simply because that’s what it is—right.

We refrain from striking another person not because we expect that action will lead to the end of violence, but because not hitting another person is the right thing to do.

We refrain from lying to our spouse or partner not because we think our actions will convince others to be honest, but because being truthful in any relationship is the right way to behave.

We do not ignore a customer because of the color of his skin or the way he speaks. Treating all people equally and with respect is the right way to interact with others.

We refrain from wrongdoing because even if no one will know of the wrong we do—and even if our right actions have absolutely no effect on others—doing something wrong is just plain wrong.

And so we do what is right.

Lacking understanding in our practice, 

we’re just going through the motions. 

One evening, a man was watching his wife prepare an eggplant for their dinner. Watching her cut off the end of the eggplant and then throwing away, he asked her why she did so. She replied it was the way her mother had always fixed eggplant.

His curiosity growing, he suggested they call the mother to find out the reason. When they called the mother, she replied that it was the way her mother had always fixed eggplant.

Growing increasingly perplexed, the husband suggested that they call Grandma in an attempt to figure out the reason behind what has apparently become a family tradition. When they asked, Grandma replied that the reason was simple—not having a large enough pan, she cut off the end of the eggplant to make it fit.

If we want to truly benefit from our practice, we need to understand the principles—and reasons—behind what we do. Otherwise, we might just be going through the motions.