In one of his books, Eckhart Tolle tells the traditional story of a Buddhist monk accused of having sex with a teenage girl. The girl has given birth to an illegitimate baby, and the girl’s parents angrily hand the baby to the monk and tell them the child is his. "Is that so?" is all the monk says in response.
For a year the monk tends to the child without complaint. Then the girl tearfully admits to her parents that she lied. She had an affair with a boyfriend her own age. The parents humbly approach the monk and explain that they now know the child isn’t his. "Is that so?" is all the monk says again.
In telling this story, Tolle is making the point that the monk has achieved a state of inner peace and serenity that allows him to accept any situation without becoming emotionally involved. By implication, we are all supposed to strive for this kind of serenity.
But is this really a good idea?
It seems to me that if we knew a real person who reacted in such a blasé manner to these dramatic events, we would probably conclude that he was either autistic, mentally retarded, or mentally ill. There is something not quite right about merely saying, "Is that so?" in response to life-changing events. Even Forrest Gump would probably be a little quicker on the uptake than that!
Of course, the story is probably not meant to be taken literally. But I suspect that some of the people who read it think that this really is the state of mind they’re supposed to aim for.
The way I look at it, we benefit from having a variety of states of consciousness available to us. There are times when calm, serene detachment is the optimal way of responding to a situation. There are other times when intense, vigorous opposition is more appropriate.
By analogy, sometimes we need the analytical skills of the left hemisphere of the brain, and sometimes we need the holistic pattern-recognition skills of the right hemisphere. The best approach is not to employ only one half of the brain, but to employ both, and we do this by shuttling back and forth between the two modalities. In a somewhat similar way, we can learn to shuttle between various states of consciousness, choosing whichever one is most appropriate in any given situation. The benefit of raising our consciousness is not to exist in one state of mind perpetually, no matter how exalted or enlightened it may be. Rather, the benefit is that by raising our consciousness, we give ourselves a wider spectrum of states of mind to choose from. We expand the menu of options for our mindset, giving ourselves added flexibility and adaptability.
In the case of the monk, he probably would have benefited from reacting with justifiable indignation to the false accusation. He could have interrogated the girl to find holes in her story. He could have produced evidence that he was not the father of the baby. Had these strategies succeeded, he would have saved himself and everyone else a lot of unnecessary grief. On the other hand, if all these strategies failed and he was stuck with taking care of the baby for some period of time, then it would be appropriate for him to switch to a mode of acceptance and serenity. There would be nothing further he could hope to gain by fighting his circumstances, so his best option would be to accept them.
The famous prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr eloquently encapsulates this approach to life:
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
Someone who can distinguish between what is open to change and what is not, and can summon the appropriate mindset in each circumstance, will have gained the kind of mental control that spiritual adepts have always sought.
On the other hand, if anyone says you should be calm and serene in all situations without exception, your best response might be a raised eyebrow and a decidedly skeptical "Is that so?"