Jack Gindi
Years ago, I brought a close friend into a successful business I had built. I trusted him like a brother and brought him in as a 50/50 partner. That decision was mine, made from love and respect, and I own it. What followed was a combination of decisions I wish had been different and the financial collapse of 2008 and 2009. Eventually, the business was gone, and we were both bankrupt.
I was angry. I felt betrayed. For a while, those feelings occupied a great deal of space in my mind. I replayed what happened, what he had done, what I should have seen sooner, and what I might have done differently.
Some of that was necessary. When something painful happens, I don’t believe the answer is to pretend it didn’t hurt. Anger can tell us something. Betrayal and regret can teach us something, too.
But eventually, the story wasn’t giving me any new information. The business was still gone. I was still bankrupt. What had happened had happened. I had to decide what would receive the rest of my energy.
Last month I wrote that acceptance is where mastering life begins. But acceptance isn’t the destination. Once we accept what happened and what we cannot change, another question waits for us…
Now What?
What is true right now? What do I still have? What belongs to me? What can I do from here?
There was something I had to own. I had brought this person into the business and had agreed to decisions along the way. Taking responsibility for my choices did not mean taking responsibility for his behavior. It meant I stopped waiting for something outside of me to change before I could begin rebuilding what was still mine to build.
The bankruptcy had already cost me enough. I had to decide how much more of my life I was willing to give it.
Every one of us eventually experiences something we didn’t choose and cannot undo. Maybe it’s bankruptcy, the end of a marriage, betrayal, illness, the loss of someone we love, or simply discovering that the life we expected is no longer the life we have.
The circumstances and pain are different, but eventually many of us face the same question: After something has already taken something from me, how much more of my life am I going to give it?
Recently, a friend shared a story that helped me see another side of this. Someone in her family had caused significant harm. For years, part of her mind kept searching for justice. Maybe he would understand what he had done, feel remorse, or face some consequence that would somehow balance the scales.
Eventually, she noticed something. Every road led to the same place.
His suffering would not restore what had been lost. She could not make him feel remorse or manufacture the ending her mind wanted. That’s when she stopped watching him and started watching herself.
She realized she was caught in a loop.
Break Out of the Loop
Her pain wasn’t the loop. Her anger wasn’t the loop. Wanting justice was not the loop. The loop was continuing to travel the same mental road after she already knew where it went.
We can appear to be moving forward while part of our energy remains tied to something behind us. We work, raise families, make plans, laugh, and accomplish things. Yet somewhere in the background, the same argument may still be playing or the same person occupying space in our minds.
That costs us something.
We only have so much attention and energy. When part of it remains attached to something that is no longer teaching us or creating a new possibility, that energy isn’t available for the life in front of us.
Perhaps this is another lesson we can teach our children. They will experience disappointment, unfairness, heartbreak, and loss. We can’t prevent that. But they can watch how we respond when it happens to us. Do we spend years fighting yesterday, or do we feel what needs to be felt, learn what needs to be learned, and eventually turn toward tomorrow?
Mastering life doesn’t mean denying pain, rushing grief, or pretending something terrible didn’t happen. Sometimes we need time before we even know what “Now what?” means.
But eventually, perhaps we need to ask ourselves: Where is my energy going? Is it helping me understand something I still need to understand, or am I paying for the same event again today?
I could not change what happened to my business. My friend could not change what happened in her family. But both of us eventually faced the same decision: how much of the life still in front of us would we continue giving to something behind us?
Maybe that’s the next lesson in mastering life: accept what is, and when you’re ready, ask: Now what?