Even in the face of accidents, there is choice.

Once, after I had spoken about choices, a man asked about his friend who survived a horrific accident. To save the friend’s life, the doctors had to amputate her legs.

He asked, where was her choice? The accident was just that, an accident. It was followed by more suffering—the myriad emotions and thoughts that had to be assailing her every moment. Perhaps anger at the driver of the other car. Perhaps anger at herself for not having done something differently. Perhaps an anguished Why me? or If only!

I told him that at some point, when her shock and initial reactions ease, when she gradually stops reacting numbly to her grief, this friend will, hopefully, come to realize that she has choices. 

One choice involves holding on to the suffering, which could go on for years. The other involves a realization that causality is at play here. And asking “How can I move forward from here?”

Pain is an integral part of life here in samsara; suffering our reaction to it.  

Choice determines how long and deeply we will suffer from our pain.

Studying Buddhism without practicing is like . . .

“Don’t be too quick.
You never know
what the next one will be like.”

Years ago, a wise woman told me about a time in her life when she was much younger.

As with many married couples, she and her husband found themselves going through a difficult time. They were increasingly at odds with one another. Unsure of what to do, the woman went to her mother and admitted her growing unhappiness. She was even considering divorce. Her mother replied, “Think—don’t rush. You have no idea what the next one will be like.”

With her mother’s sobering advice in her mind, the young wife went home to her husband. They remained married— happily, as it turned out—for over fifty years until his passing. She missed him every day until she too passed away.

Like that bride, we also run into situations where we might just find it easier to throw up our hands and quit. When deciding what to do, it can be helpful to remember this: “You have no idea what the next one will be like.”