This week’s post is a reflection on the parable of The Stonecutter, from Benjamin Hoff’s, The Tao of Pooh
There was once a stonecutter, who was dissatisfied with himself and with his position in life. One day, he passed a wealthy merchant’s house, and through the open gateway, saw many fine possessions and important visitors. “How powerful that merchant must be!” thought the stonecutter. He became very envious, and wished that he could be like the merchant. Then he would no longer have to live the life of a mere stonecutter.
To his great surprise, he suddenly became the merchant, enjoying more luxuries and power than he had ever dreamed of, envied and detested by those less wealthy than himself. But soon a high official passed by, carried in a sedan chair, accompanied by attendants, and escorted by soldiers beating gongs. Everyone, no matter how wealthy, had to bow low before the procession. “How powerful that official is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a high official!”
Then he became the high official, carried everywhere in his embroidered sedan chair, feared and hated by the people all around, who had to bow down before him as he passed. It was a hot summer day, and the official felt very uncomfortable in the sticky sedan chair. He looked up at the sun. It shone proudly in the sky, unaffected by his presence. “How powerful the sun is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be the sun!”
Then he became the sun, shining fiercely down on everyone, scorching the fields, cursed by the farmers and laborers. But a huge black cloud moved between him and the earth, so that his light could no longer shine on everything below. “How powerful that storm cloud is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a cloud!”
Then he became the cloud, flooding the fields and villages, shouted at by everyone. But soon he found that he was being pushed away by some great force, and realized that it was the wind. “How powerful it is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be the wind!”
Then he became the wind, blowing tiles off the roofs of houses, uprooting trees, hated and feared by all below him. But after a while, he ran up against something that would not move, no matter how forcefully he blew against it — a huge, towering stone. “How powerful that stone is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a stone!” he thought.
Then he became the stone, more powerful than anything else on earth. But as he stood there, he heard the sound of a hammer pounding a chisel into the solid rock, and felt himself being changed. “What could be more powerful than I, the stone?” he thought. He looked down and saw far below him the figure of a stonecutter.
As this parable alludes, often the underpinnings of dissatisfaction arise from comparing our inner world to our perceptions of the outer world. We long to be, have, do something different, thinking it will make us happier. And once there, we recognize the inadequacies of what we thought we wanted, which leads us right back to feeling dissatisfied.
This “grass is always greener” approach to living explains the incessant drive many of us have to strive toward some goal, object or experience. Although we may not have the ability to magically transform our situation like the stonecutter, all too often, we reflexively react to the itch of inner dissatisfaction. We move ceaselessly from one situation to the next, never really arriving anywhere with a quenched thirst.
At some point, you would think we’d start asking ourselves why the dissatisfaction continues to arise. Is the problem really something outside of ourselves or is it something within?
Regardless of the content of the story we tell ourselves, dissatisfaction is frequently a perception of lack. We aren’t accomplished enough or rich enough, our partners don’t satisfy us enough, our stuff isn’t cool enough…you get the idea. The key is to be with these feelings, not pushing against them, getting lost in them or becoming reactive to them.
The remedy I’ve found to be the most successful at dispelling feelings of dissatisfaction is to bring a sense of inquiry to them. Inevitably, there is something sitting behind these feelings; there is always a backstory. When we are able to sit and observe, without judgement, we are in an ideal space to inquire about our internal state.
As we explore these moments, we may find there are internal or external triggers for the feelings of lack. If patterns emerge, we can experiment with making different choices, try on new behaviors and move away from reactive responses. We may find that our dissatisfaction requires action, but sometimes the inquiry alone is enough, simply because we shined a light on something deeper within us that needed acknowledgement.
To investigate feelings of dissatisfaction is a loving act. We are not discounting our experience nor judging it. The intent of the query is to compassionately get to the heart of the matter; to find real resolution rather than a temporary fix. The essential step, as always, is to stay in the present moment, resisting the temptation to assume that we need to be anywhere other than where we are. Because, as the stonecutter found, sometimes it’s not the situation that needs fixing…but our perception.