When my daughter picked me up from the airport this summer, we drove about half a block before she blurted, "I crashed the car."
"Was anyone hurt?" I asked.
"No," she said, "I ran into the house. I'm really sorry. And don't write an article about it."
I was grateful that she was unharmed, but not so happy about our high auto and homeowner's deductibles. Since she relented on the column permission, I at least got something out of the accident.
But I learned something, too. Once I knew no one was injured, I found myself surprised that I didn't move into anger about the accident and how it happened. Right at that moment, for some reason, I didn't create a story that would have judged her or her driving -- which, at age 19, had been accident- and ticket-free. And because I didn't create a story, she didn't need to create one either.
We try to make sense out of things by making stuff up. The politicians create stories about why they can't resolve the fiscal cliff, and we react to their stories with those of our own. Pema Chodron in her book "Taking the Leap" says, "Rather than getting so caught up in the drama of who did what to whom, we could simply recognize that we're all worked up and stop fueling our emotions with stories."
This is a time when many people who come into our office are feeling all worked up. World events this year have some clients feeling unsettled about what the future holds. Instead of simply accepting the great investment returns that came in 2012, many are fretting about what's going to happen next. But why?
If we tell clients what is going to happen in 2013, I am telling them a story. If my interpretation fits their picture, they will be comforted. If it doesn't, they will create an alternative explanation that squares with their ideas. A plan is in place regardless of what happens, so there is no need to know what can't be known.