Remember that a Bad Day for the Ego Is a Good Day for the Soul
A while back I was listening to a radio interview with Michael Bernard Beckwith, founder of the Agape International Spiritual Center and author of Life Visioning, and he said, “A bad day for the ego is a good day for the soul.” When I heard this, I laughed out loud. The wisdom of his statement resonated with me deeply. I thought about a number of experiences in my life that have been quite “bad” for my ego (i.e., embarrassing, disappointing, and even painful) but in hindsight have been great for my own growth and development (i.e., my soul).
One of the most painful and powerful examples of this was when my professional baseball career ended. I was 23 years old, in my third season in the minor leagues with the Kansas City Royals, when I injured my pitching arm. The injury led to a series of surgeries and ultimately the end of my playing career. Among the many lessons I learned from that experience, the most important had to do with appreciating myself, my talent, and my experience while it was happening, not after the fact. I spent most of my time while playing baseball all of those years (especially in college at Stanford and in the minor leagues) thinking I wasn’t good enough. I compared myself to everyone around me and held my breath hoping that I didn’t mess anything up. And, when it was all said and done and I hadn’t made it to the major leagues due to my injury, I thought, Oops, I think I missed the point.
This lesson has been a key motivator in my life and with my work, which is why I’ve written and spoken about it as much as I have all these years. However, a few years ago, I had an experience with my daughter, Samantha, that deepened the wisdom and insight from this lesson in a new way. It was April of 2010 and Samantha was four. She had the week off from preschool for spring break, and I decided to take the afternoon off so I could take her to see Cal and Stanford play an afternoon baseball game in Berkeley, not far from where we live. Her baby sister, Rosie, who was one and a half at the time, stayed home with Michelle. Given the nature of our lives, my schedule, and us still figuring out how to manage with two young kids, this was precious one-on-one time for Samantha and me, and we were both very excited about it. As we were driving to the game, Samantha, who was sitting in her booster seat behind me, asked, “Daddy, are you going to play in the game?”
The previous fall, Samantha had seen me play in our annual alumni game down at Stanford—an exhibition game between the current Stanford baseball team and any of us former players who are able to show up and courageous enough to get back out there on the field and play against the college kids. Anyway, Samantha had seen me in my uniform and since we were now going to see Stanford play, she wanted to know if I was going to.
“No,” I said.
“Why not?” asked Samantha.
“Daddy doesn’t play baseball anymore,” I replied.
“Yes you do,” Samantha said. “I saw you.”
“Oh, honey, that wasn’t a real game,” I said.
“I don’t understand,” said Samantha.
“Sweetie,” I said. “Daddy doesn’t play baseball anymore because I hurt my pitching arm and had a bunch of surgeries on it, which caused me to stop playing.”
“You mean you can’t play baseball anymore?” Samantha asked.
“That’s right, sweetie,” I said.
“Are you sad about that, Daddy?” she asked.
“Wow, honey, I appreciate you asking me that,” I said. “No, I’m not sad. I was when it happened; it was a pretty big deal, and I was very upset. However, that was a long time ago and I’m not sad about it anymore. In fact, I’m grateful.”
“Grateful?” Samantha asked, quite surprised and confused. Even at four years old, she knew what it meant to be grateful for something since we talk about gratitude a lot at our house. “Why are you grateful that you can’t play baseball anymore, Daddy? I don’t understand.”
“Well, honey,” I said, “if Daddy hadn’t hurt his arm, I never would’ve met Mommy … and I wouldn’t be your daddy.” Then, I burst into tears!
“Daddy, are you okay?” Samantha asked.
“I’m fine, sweetie, just fine,” I said, as I wiped the tears from my eyes. I was shocked by how emotional I got in that moment—it hit me at a deeper level than ever before.
Too often our desire to protect our ego—to avoid failure and embarrassment—causes us to sell out on ourselves, not go for what we truly want, or hold back in a variety of detrimental ways. When we remember that even if things don’t turn out the way we think we want them to, not only will we survive, we can grow in the process. As Randy Pausch said in The Last Lecture, “Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.”
This is not to say that the only way to grow in life is through suffering, disappointment, or pain. However, when we do experience difficulties, we have the capacity to turn these “bad” things into incredible opportunities for healing and transformation. While it may not seem that way to us (or our ego) initially, the deeper part of who we are (our soul) knows that everything happens for a reason and that there are important lessons in every experience.
Think of some of the things that have happened in your life that seemed awful to you at the time but in hindsight are things you’re incredibly grateful for.
The most elegant, pleasurable, and self-loving way for us to grow and evolve is through joy, success, and gratitude. However, due to the fact that difficulties do occur in life and that we often give away our power to the “bad” stuff (through resistance, judgment, or worry), learning to relate to our challenges in a more positive and conscious way is a crucial part of our growth.
Remembering that our ego is usually what’s at risk when we’re scared can remind us that we don’t have nearly as much to lose as we think we do. Embodying this insight—that a bad day for our ego is a good day for our soul—with empathy and perspective allows us to live with a deeper sense of trust and openness.