This holiday and New Year break was cold, stormy, and wet. After being “forced” indoors for weeks, on January 4th we finally felt the urge to step outside for fresh air and reconnect with nature.
The moment we stepped out of the house, we were greeted by the most beautiful double rainbows — incredibly bright and vibrant. Almost instinctively, we decided to chase them. As we arrived at the waterfront, they seemed to settle over the hills above the water, as if waiting for us.
The light and clouds kept changing. The rainbows appeared and disappeared, weaving in and out of the mist, creating an ever-changing show. Just when we thought the light was fading and the rain had washed them away — and we were ready to leave — they appeared again. Each time, they invited us to stay a little longer.
Rainbows or no rainbows, I felt joy in every moment. There was a sense of ease and quiet bliss, a feeling of connection beyond words. Nothing needed to be different. Each moment felt complete.
Happiness, I realized, is a lot like rainbows. It doesn’t exist as something solid we can hold onto. When conditions are right, it appears naturally. When conditions change, it naturally fades. Nothing needs to be forced. Nothing needs to be chased.
The energy that day felt so calm and expansive. As I looked at the sky, the usual worries and mental noise simply weren’t there. Gratitude arose, especially toward our Buddhist teacher and spiritual mentor, whose steady guidance has helped me see moments like this more clearly.
Later that evening, as the rain picked up and the light dimmed, we prepared to leave — only to discover the car battery was dead. We were stranded, waiting a long time for AAA, growing tired and feeling impatient. The earlier bliss seemed to vanish, just like the rainbows swallowed by clouds.
I started thinking through other options and suggested we ask someone nearby for help. Just then, a truck pulled in near us. Almost at the same moment I gently whispered, “Hey, can you give us a jump?” To my surprise, the driver looked over and called out, “Do you guys need a jump?”
A stranger appeared out of nowhere and helped us start the car. What had seemed like a frustrating problem became the highlight of the night. I was reminded of the old Chinese saying, 塞翁失馬 (Sai Weng Shi Ma, literal translation is Mr. Weng fell off the horse) — good and bad transform into one another. We never really know what an event will become.
In Buddhism, this is sometimes described as emptiness — not emptiness as nothingness, but emptiness of anything fixed or permanent. Experiences arise, shift, and dissolve depending on causes and conditions. Joy, frustration, beauty, inconvenience — none of them stand alone.
I think life is just like rainbows — fleeting, luminous, and beautiful. They appear when conditions come together. They disappear when conditions change.
Happiness doesn’t need to be chased, and difficulty doesn’t need to be feared.
Nothing is truly gained, and nothing is ever lost.
When we stop chasing the rainbow, we finally have the freedom to simply see it.
