âYou are the sky. Everything elseâitâs just the weather.â ~Pema Chödrön
A farmer has a horse for many years; it helps him earn his livelihood and raise his son. One day, the horse runs away. His neighbor says sympathetically, âSuch bad luck.â
The farmer replies, âMaybe. Who knows?â
The next day, the horse makes its way back home bringing with it another horse. The neighbor says with a smile, âSuch good luck.â
The farmer replies, âMaybe. Who knows?â
The following day, the farmerâs son rides the new horse and seeks to tame it. In the process, he breaks his leg. The neighbor says sympathetically, âSuch bad luck.â
The farmer replies, âMaybe. Who knows?â
The last day of the story, the military comes to the village to draft all able-bodied young men to fight in a war. The son is exempt from the draft due to his broken leg. You can guess what the neighbor said, and how the farmer replied.
This Zen Buddhist parable illustrates that we never really know exactly why things are unfolding the way that they are, and that labeling them as âgoodâ or âbadâ is useless. It only gets us wrapped up in the ups and downs.
Riding the car of this dichotomy only takes us on a roller coaster ride while our emotions are following whatever storyline is in front of us.
Because Iâm a human, I do this all of the time. I think that something fits neatly into either category, and I place it there then try to not look back. Usually that ends with those contents spilling out all over the place. Like when I try to make certain foods âgoodâ or âbad.â Food has no morality, and categorizing it in this way just brings me shame.
David Allen explained that the Taoists have their own way of interpreting the complication: the yin and yang symbol. âGoodâ flows into âbadâ and the two are even contained in one another. They canât really be separated.
How Iâve Found the âGoodâ in the âBadâ
Not too far out of college I had a cushy tech job that I absolutely adored. I relished in the fact that I was doing what I loved, and that I had been promoted to that position after working really hard.
The perks were great. We had flexible hours, leaving room for naps on my work-from-home days. My favorite perk was a giant snack room, full of all kinds of goodies. We were swimming in startup benefits, and by all measures, I was happy. However, I didnât realize I was overworking myself until I collapsed.
The long hours had taken a toll on me, emotionally and physically. My romantic relationships had also gotten me down. Iâd been causing myself a lot of pain by continuously going after emotionally unavailable people. I had also been neglecting self-care, sleeping much less than my body required. My mental health deteriorated to the point where I no longer felt safe in my own skin.
I’d struggled with my mental health throughout my life, but I thought I’d gotten to a good place. Turns out I was wrong. My mind had been slowly building up to a bipolar explosion that mixed mania and depression.
My mania manifested itself in staying up too late, having impulsive sex, and taking on way too many responsibilities at once. My depression took the form of feeling worthless and losing interest in things I loved, and my hunger was either through the roof or absent. Suicidal ideation was a big part of the mix. This was the scariest partâthe fact that Iâd lost the will to live.
As a result of all of this, I had a breakdown. I could often be found writhing in emotional pain, my brain wanting me dead. How quickly this âgoodâ turned to âbad.âÂ
Because I was deemed unsafe, I was taken by ambulance to a locked ward. Turns out when you show up to the hospital telling them youâre suicidal, they cart you away to a locked facility of some sort.
Everyday things like my laptop cord and makeup mirrors were taken from me, lest I harm myself. I slept in a hallway of sixteen girls, and a nurse opened our doors every fifteen minutes at night to check to see if we were still breathing. The food was subpar at best.
I wanted to die. I had a total mental health collapse and realized I had been running myself ragged at this job. I had to quit it because I knew that this hospital stay wasnât going to be a quick fix. I had seven more hospitalizations that year, and I thought that my life was over.
While reflecting on what had brought me to this point, I realized that not only was the job overly demanding on my time, the office had terrible boundaries, with lots of people dating one another (including myself at one point). Most harmful, though, was the unlimited stash of anytime booze. Iâm a recovering alcoholic, and though I was able to stay sober, this wasnât a healthy environment for me.
Later, reflecting on the time I spent hospitalized, I realized my experiences werenât all âbad.âÂ
My time in and out of psych wards has reminded me how strong I amâthe strength it took to get help instead of killing myself was something I didnât know I had. I thought Iâd stay on the path to destruction for much longer, but my will to live came through.
Also, I was shown, despite my skepticism, that Iâm indeed never alone; my loved ones showered me with support. People regularly visited me in the hospital, and their presence helped me heal.
My friends showed up without judgment, holding space for all of my big feelings. They brought nothing but love (and some snacks). It was vulnerable to be seen in the condition I was in, but my friends proved they could be trusted to be with me in this state. Many of them had been in my shoes before, so they held compassion for what I was going through.
Most of the friends that visited were AA companions. They were people trying to stay sober, just like me, and we were living many of the same values like acceptance and taking life one day at a time. With their support, I continued on the path of healing both inside and outside of the hospital.
Iâve even managed to find the âgoodâ in alcoholism. In fact, I now believe it’s one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. My recovery has brought me beautiful friendships, immense personal growth, and ridiculous amounts of resilience. Iâve learned to be there for another person without constantly putting myself first, and Iâve grown to be a better partner.
It took eighteen months of rest before I was ready to go back to work. I struggled with feeling inadequate and useless during this time. I was so accustomed to working like a maniac that rest felt foreign to me. But Iâm now finally well enough to work, though Iâve gotten a job that pays much less than my last one and it isnât even close to as prestigious. Iâm calling it my âget-well job.â
Iâm still working through some shame around it, wanting to call this âbad,â even though I know itâs a mix of things. Instead of calling it âbad,â I do my best to return to âmaybeâ with a shrug.
Iâm not saying that Iâm able to be perfectly non-judgmental and unattached, living without worry at my job and feeling perfectly confident when talking about it. But some days I can just let things be what they are. I can notice that voice inside thatâs yelling at me and I can soothe it. I can create a new script and I can practice radical acceptance by not fighting against whatâs going on in my mind.
Looking back, I called my job âgoodâ and the psych wards âbad,â though there were no clear categories. Good is great, but it doesnât last forever. Bad can hurt, but it doesnât last forever either. There was a bit of a mix of everything. Much of life is this way.
I donât know why things happen the way that they do, and I never know whatâs going to happen next. Perhaps this job will benefit my life in ways I could never predict. Maybe itâll keep me where Iâm at, or make things worse; I just donât know.
The thing is, though, once I start to move past outcomes I can be more present to and flexible with whatâs happening.
I can just enjoy learning to use the espresso machine at my new job rather than worrying about what people think of my new job choice. I can practice gentleness around my mental health, remaining non-judgmental when I have a difficult day. I can do this instead of thrashing against what is, letting my mind carry me to dreams of what could be and feeling angry about how things are.
I can work with whatever emotions come up, knowing that itâs all the path. I canât prevent life from happening and I canât always force what I want to happen. What I do have control of is l how I react to everything, and today Iâm trying to have a âmaybeâ attitude.
No matter what happens, I know I can handle it. Being knocked down by my job and mental health reminded me that the human spirit is wildly resilient. I got back up; I did it very slowly, but I did it.
About Ginelle Testa
Ginelle Testa is a passionate wordsmith. She's a queer gal whose passions include recovery/sobriety, social justice, body positivity, and intersectional feminism. In the rare moments she isn't writing, you can find her doing yin yoga, thrifting eclectic attire, and imperfectly practicing Buddhism. She has a memoir coming out with She Writes Press in September 2024. You can find her on Instagram.