What else might this mean?
The question offers the option of stepping back from a tense moment— when emotions are running high— of pulling back from our initial reaction to consider the situation in a broader scope.
It is a moment of growth.
I do my best to remember this practice but it is so easy to react rather than to respond. Yet, when I do step back, I see how I am making myself suffer.
Life is not free of pain but it can be free of suffering.
Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners.
Othello, Act 1, Scene 3
Asking what else a situation might mean allows me to tend my garden thoughtfully. It gives me a moment of peace. I release my out-breath but pause before taking the next.
I’m not relinquishing my beliefs–those that thrive in my garden–I stand in it as is, examining where there is growth and where there is none.
I open myself to the unimaginable, which is not always positive or easy. The intrigue is in considering all that might grow here, as old beliefs wither while young shoots find their way to fertile ground.
Sometimes, silence–simply surveying how my garden grows–is all I have to offer.
The compassionate response is not giving up my garden or tending it less. It is nurturing the ego-less emotions of gratitude, kindness, equanimity, and joy. These are forever beautiful and loving perennials.
I do my best to remember that I am a gardener, a strong-willed one at that. Tending my garden is not about having the answer; it is about asking the question.
What else might this mean?
Aim for Even posts offer equanimity in daily doses. No day or dose is ever the same, even if the aim is. You may read about the origins of Aim for Even here or on this site’s About page.
