Being Present with the Future

   I am reflecting on how most anxieties arise from a sense of the future that hasn't yet materialized. I posed the question to Guo Yuan Fashi during the retreat: how does the practice of Chan relate to planning and making decisions that haven't yet materialized, as well as navigating uncertainty? Fashi replied that making judgments about what to do is about wholeheartedly being present with the decision making itself. In this way, one is being present when they are planning for the future, and are able to face all the variables with a clear mind.
   Trying to imagine all the "what ifs" before they actually materialize is one of my tendencies, which seems to be common with many people who suffer from anxiety. It's funny how my mind works, because a lot of times I treat thoughts as though they relate to situations that have already happened. Even though the thought is "just a thought", I am reacting as though a situation that has not happened yet has already happened, and I am wanting to control the outcome in some way.
   Different religious practices and traditions seem to address anxiety in similar but also different ways. What they share in common, perhaps, is the need to surrender to a higher principle. Even for those who have no particular belief system, there is often a need to feel that whatever is happening is happening with good reason, or with a substantial learning outcome that has some kind of meaning or value. M. Scott Peck remarks:

Perhaps the choice to die gracefully occurs when we finally learn and accept that all is according to how it should be. Whether one believes in an afterlife or not, to proceed gracefully in the arms of death is the ultimate acquiescence to an abiding conviction--even in the midst of paradoxical uncertainty--that every aspect of life contributes to the meaning of the whole (p.161)
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Perhaps the deepest underlying fear related to anxiety is that life has no meaning if we don't make certain choices in life. It might mean something like, "because nothing is certain and I can't own anything or call anything  mine, I don't have a story to tell". From a Buddhist or Chan perspective, how might one look at this fear?
   I don't really know the answer to this question, since it's a deep one and involves many paradoxes. As a volunteer with a Buddhist organization, I derive a sense of self from being a volunteer, being able to support the organization, and feeling that I am doing something worthwhile that contributes merit to the whole. But attendant to this sense of self is a fragile sense of attachment, which can be described as "what happens if all these roles I am playing are taken away?" I experienced the anxiety this past retreat, since I didn't play a key role as a volunteer. Guilt also accompanied this experience: the sense that being a volunteer is a good thing, and therefore my non-participation as a volunteer means that I am not doing good things at that time. Isn't it funny how I torture myself with these anxious thoughts?
  When I lack a compelling narrative which explains why I am not able to do something, I am left with the guilt (existential) of having the choice yet not taking that choice. I am a person without excuses, even without reasons. But this particular "narrative of choice" conflicts with the narrative mentioned by Peck above, which is that everything contributes to the meaning of the whole, even the moments of "indecision" or "not doing something positive". Perhaps the way I can look at it is that it teaches me to let go of excessive attachment to the role of volunteer. However painful this can be, it can also be a good learning experience not to participate, even though I am willing to help as needed.
   Perhaps there is no answer to this paradox, since volunteering is both good in itself and also a potential source of attachment.  Learning to live with that paradox is perhaps valuable. But it also might be valuable to let go of all of this, since all self is just temporary, and things are constantly changing moment to moment.

Peck, M. Scott (1997). The Road Less Traveled  & Beyond: Spiritual Growth in an Age of  Anxiety. New York: Harper Collins.