To savor something new, 

we need to let go of the old.

Picture in your mind a cup filled with tea. It’s your favorite Earl Grey. But today, you feel like trying another tea, one that a friend is raving over, the Dragon Pearl Jasmine. Both teas are really good, but you experiment. You mix them together. The result? A very strange tasting brew. 

Learning Buddhism is like this. 

If we try to take in new teachings when our “cup” already holds another, the diverse teachings will become muddled. We’ll end up trying to combine different forms of meditation and find that we cannot master any of them. Study different teachings and we’ll find that while both have the same goal, we need to take different paths to reach it. Listen to different teachers and we’ll get confused with teachings explained in different ways. Even when equally good, the practice and the teachings lose their potency when combined.

Sometimes, we need to clean the cup—let go of former ideas and notions—to purely appreciate that which is new.

When we stop fussing about things . . .

Good luck? Maybe.

Bad luck? Maybe.

Once upon a time, a peasant had a horse. When the horse ran away, the peasant’s neighbors came to console him for his bad luck. He answered, “Maybe.” 

The next day, the horse came back and with it, six wild horses. The neighbors came to congratulate him on such good luck. The peasant said, “Maybe.” 

The day after, his son tried to ride one of the wild horses. But he was thrown off and broke his leg. Once again, the neighbors shared his misfortune. The peasant said, “Maybe.” 

The day after, soldiers came to conscript the youth of the village. Because of his son’s broken leg the soldiers passed him over. When the neighbors came to congratulate him on his good fortune, the peasant said again, “Maybe.” 

As we see in this story, good luck and bad luck are ever changing, like two sides of a coin flipping back and forth. Whatever we encounter, we need to view it with equanimity, not judge it, and accept it with flexibility.