Live In Possibility

One of life’s hardest lessons is to focus on what you’re moving toward, not what you’re running from. You may think you’re looking for a new career when really you’re just driven by hating your current boss. You may think you’re seeking a new partner when really you’re avoiding conflict with those already in your life. The irony is that escape always leads us back to what we’re trying to avoid, just in a new form.

Focusing on what you’re moving toward doesn’t mean pretending everything’s fine. It means holding parts of life in a space of possibility and protecting that space: “Wouldn’t it be nice if things felt easier with my parents?” “Wouldn’t it be nice to reconcile with that old friend?”

Traditional religion calls this space prayer. But you don’t need to believe in God to pray. As Heidegger noted, being human itself means living not only what is, but what might be. In that sense, you’re always already praying. You just may need more clarity about what you’re praying for.

To do that, you have to live in two worlds at once without forcing a resolution. If you focus only on possibility you’re delusional. If you focus only on actuality, you’re stuck. Growth comes from holding both. Okay, you may be unhappy, but can you be unhappy and open to the possibility of happiness at the same time? You may be lonely, but can you be lonely and open to the possibility of connection too?

Ajaan Chah once said that when you listen to a dharma talk, you should imagine your heart as a tape recorder registering everything it hears. It’s easy to think: I’ll never understand. I’ll never be enlightened. I’m such a mess. But how do you know that, someday, something deep inside won’t press play, and those teachings, which you once thought were beyond you, will return as the truth of your own life?

Chiron Duong, "If I were a mangrove tree, I will rebirth on the sweet land" (2023)