Welcome to the Buddhist Boot Camp Podcast. Our intention is to awaken, enlighten, enrich, and inspire a simple and uncomplicated life. Discover the benefits of mindful living with your host, Timber Hawkeye. I had dinner at a friend's house the other night, and I noticed all their trash was piled in a corner of the kitchen NEXT to the garbage can instead of IN it.
They noticed my confused look and said, "We bought this high-tech garbage can "a few years back, and we ran out of the special trash bags that perfectly fit into it "about four months ago. The manufacturer is still out of stock, so, yeah, this is annoying." "Why not get a new trash can that takes regular bags?" I asked. "You would think we would," they laughed, "but we've already spent so much money
"on THIS stupid thing." They said pointing to that fancy, shiny, motion-activated, yet completely useless trash can sitting there in the corner of the kitchen mocking them. It's as if admitting to a mistake is deemed more difficult than continuing to live with one I've even heard people dread and complain about hanging out with certain friends because they never have anything to talk about or nothing in common, so the conversation dies after just five minutes of seeing one another.
"So, why are you hanging out with them in the first place?" I'd ask. "Well, you know, we've known each other since elementary school," they would reply, as if having a history with someone automatically implies there's a future. It seems we cling to our mistakes just because we spend so much time, money, or energy making them. It's like driving in the wrong direction for 200 miles before you notice you're heading east instead of west, but you've already driven 200 miles,
so you figure you might as well keep going. It doesn't make any sense. But I DO remember Steve, an attorney from one of the law firms where I used to work, storming out of his office one day, loudly announcing "I am done!" "My dad was a lawyer, his father was a lawyer, and I was raised to believe that's "exactly what I needed to become. But, you know what? Despite the years of law school "and hundreds of thousands of dollars in student loans, all I ever wanted to be was
"a bartender." He put on his jacket, took the elevator down, and we never saw him again. Last I heard, he's happy as can be tending bar somewhere in Seattle. But Steve is the exception, not the rule. Most of us stay in miserable jobs, continue living in neighborhoods we dislike, and maintain dysfunctional relationships for decades, all because we think a change would require more energy than staying put. Papaji, a self-inquiry teacher said, "What comes let it come, what stays let it stay,
"and what goes let it go." I think we do great with what comes and what stays, but we fall short on letting things go. What is it about release or surrender that scares us so much? Does it really stem from a core viewpoint of scarcity, or is our ego so afraid of being bruised that it regularly defends its bad decisions? I host regular Buddhist Boot Camp events in California to discuss these topics, and a friend was actually visiting from out of town
when this discussion was taking place. After the event, she wanted to go to a local Mexican restaurant for dinner, but when we pulled into the parking lot, we saw a very long and loud line of people waiting to get into the already packed restaurant. I said, "Well, that's not a problem; there's a really great Thai restaurant just about a
"mile away. Let's go there!" So we go, I find a parking spot right in front of the restaurant, and that's when I confirmed with my friend that Thai food was okay. She said, "Yeah, but I really did have my mind set on Mexican food for tonight." I said, "Well, that's not a problem, there's another Mexican restaurant a couple of miles "away, and we can easily go there." "No, no. No need," she said.
"You already parked the car." I looked at her completely dumbfounded like she wasn't just part of this conversation about being so committed and invested in our past decisions that we refuse to make a new one. As if parking the car was some sort of big commitment that we couldn't get out of. I think it's indicative of so many decisions that we make, and we just feel "stuck" with them.
But we're not stuck. In fact, last month I gave a talk at Folsom State Prison, and one of the inmates was telling me how grateful he is for being behind bars; for being in an environment so much healthier than the one he was in on the outside; a space where he can think, a space where he can reinvent who he is, decide what kind of person he wants to be. He felt so liberated and at peace.
This is a man in prison, and yet people on the outside regularly tell me that they feel trapped; that THEY are stuck! Don't cling to a mistake just because you spent a lot of time making it. Free yourself. Timber Hawkeye is the bestselling author of Faithfully Religionless and Buddhist Boot Camp.
For additional information, please visit BuddhistBootCamp.com, where you can order autographed books to support the Prison Library Project, watch Timber's inspiring TED talk, and join our monthly mailing list. We hope you have enjoyed this episode, and invite you to subscribe for more thought-provoking discussions. Thank you for being a Soldier of Peace in the Army of Love. 🙏🏼