The art of living is to enjoy what we can see and not complain about what remains in the dark.  When we are able to take the next step with the trust that we will have enough light for the step that follows, we can walk through life with joy and be surprised at how far we go.  Let’s rejoice in the little light we carry and not ask for the great beam that would take all shadows away.  –Henry Nouwen, Bread for the Journey

 

            A few months ago I was on my morning walk.  As always, I was listening for the cardinals and watching for their bright red feathers. I was also studying the ponds, looking for the various tropical birds that wander the edges and feed on the fish.  On this particular morning, I saw something that stopped me in my tracks.  First, there was a flock of snowy egrets, the white birds with “yellow slippers”; I rarely see a flock of them, so that was a treat!  Then I noticed a little blue heron; I love these birds because they are smaller than most of the other herons, and not only their feathers are blue, but their beaks are blue, too!  When other birds are wading for fish, the little blue heron usually walks around the other birds and continues to fish on the other side of them. But I was astonished to see this little blue heron chasing and squawking at a snowy egret—and it wouldn’t stop!  It chased the other bird from one part of the pond to the other, disregarding the other snowy egrets that were disturbed and fluttering about due to the ruckus and weren’t the least bit interested in getting involved.  I watched the pursued and pursuer for a few minutes, and then continued my walk, shaking my head.  What could possibly have occurred that a little blue heron had become so aggressive?

 

            This particular occurrence caused me to think about how I respond to the unexpected showing up in my life. I sometimes find the unexpected in my life enjoyable and delightful:  an old friend pops into my life, or I find a treasure that was misplaced in our move to Florida.  But sometimes the unexpected disrupts my life and has unpleasant consequences.  I can remember when a friend forgot a lunch appointment, and I struggled with simply experiencing my disappointment rather than letting my feelings escalate into anger.

 

            Our lives are mostly filled with small unexpected occurrences that have little impact on our lives; we mostly filter them out to assure ourselves at some level that life is rational and manageable.  In reality, however, the unexpected happens in every moment, even though we aren’t aware of it.  We notice the unexpected as something inconvenient or difficult when it has a sufficiently undesirable impact on our lives.

 

            How do you respond to the unexpected?  Do you complain?  Rage?  Ignore it?  Your internal as well as external responses probably depend on the nature of the unexpected, when it shows up, and your mood at that particular moment.  In one sense, your reaction simply is what it is; you can reflect on it later, if you wish, to determine whether it was helpful or not.  But the next time the unexpected happens to you, and your reaction is one of dread or anger, consider an opportunity has showed up.  Rather than pushing away your reaction or amplifying it, just notice your experience of the situation:  where do you feel the tension in your body?  What are the emotions you are feeling—resentment, fear, discomfort, confusion, dread?  Then notice how you feel once you’ve noticed your response to the situation:  in the few moments you’ve spent engaging your reaction, do you feel any different?  Is the change in your reaction unexpected?  And when you try to “make meaning of” or ruminate about the unexpected, is it helpful?  Or does it increase your agitation and prevent you from engaging “what is”?

 

            Life calls to us to be fully engaged, flowing with whatever unfolds.  We can reject it, ignore it, or practice with it.  When we take the time to fully experience our response to the unexpected, it transforms our experience and the direction of our next steps.  Who knows what might happen?