Thinking about the Ides of March

March 15th was a fateful date in my life.

Unlike Julius Caesar, I live to tell the tale of what happened.

Remember Shakespeare's setup?

Soothsayer 

Beware the ides of March.

CAESAR

What man is that?

BRUTUS

A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March.

To which then Caesar says "He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass."

The day did not turn out well for Caesar.  If only Julius Caesar had quarantined himself on that day, or at least socially distanced from Brutus! 

But, it is not as if we know about Caesar only because he was assassinated.  Instead, we discuss whether he was the greatest Roman emperor or whether he merely lucked out to have been the emperor when Rome was at its greatest.  The Ides of March certainly made Caesar's story and his death highly melodramatic.

In 2002, March 15th was when I interviewed for the job in Oregon. 

Of course, in my talk, I joked about the "Ides of March."

Was my Ides of March experience all for good?  For worse?

A year ago during the Ides of March some of us whose jobs were on the university president's chopping block were getting ready for the possible layoff notice, which did arrive two weeks after the fateful day.

Was it a bad news that I was laid off?  Or, was the layoff a blessing?

I will never, ever know.

We never know if our decisions, or the events of a day, are for the better or for worse. We are able to evaluate them only when we look back over the course of our lives.  All we have are events, which only after the passing of time become a story.  Or stories.

Given the uncertainties in life, it is all about life unfolding itself. Khe Sriram, Sriram Que sera sera!  The Ides of March is but one day, fateful or not, in a story that we tell ourselves about our lives.

I must quote you a Buddhist parable that I came across a few years ago, in a wonderful essay that was about a specific political development.

A poor farmer whose only worldly possession is a mare wakes up one morning to discover that the mare has gone. He runs to his parents’ house and breaks the terrible news. When he’s finished, they ask, “Are you sure it’s bad news?”
“Of course it’s bad news!” he replies, stomping angrily away.
Ten days later, his mare returns, bringing with her a magnificent stallion.
The farmer runs to his parents and tells them the wonderful news.
“Are you sure it’s good news?” they ask.
“Of course it’s good news,” he declares, leaving in a huff.
Days go by, and the farmer decides to try to break the stallion. He bridles the beast, climbs on its back, and is promptly thrown to the ground and trampled. The village doctor informs him that he will be a cripple for life. When he can do so, he makes his way to his parents and tells them the dreadful news.
“Are you sure it’s bad news?” they reply.
He doesn’t answer, but he mutters to himself all the way home. Two weeks later, a detachment of the Emperor’s army arrives to draft all the able-bodied men of the village. Of course, they pass over the crippled farmer. He hobbles to his parents’ house to share his joy.
“Are you sure it’s good news?” they ask.
The story has no end, of course

My story continues on after the layoff.  But, yes, life as it is now was certainly influenced by the fateful day twenty (!) years ago.

After I was all done at the old place in California, the department secretary wrote in her email to me:

I know that the people at WOU will be very thankful that you have accepted the position.  I will miss you very much.  You always had a smile on your face and willing to help in any way

The layoff has forced me into retirement--a stage in life that I for long thought would come much later.  But, life unfolds in strange ways.  After the initial frowns of worry, I hope to have a smile on my face, have my sense of humor--however warped it is--and willing to help in any way.   After all, life is not only about what happened, or did not happen, on the Ides of March.