Alana's Dharma Blog

In my endless quest to be beautiful, I stumbled upon what I thought was the holy grail — Korean beauty products. Snail serums, vitamin C-masks, kojac sponges, oh my! I did so much research,  carefully scrutinized ingredient lists, read reviews: I knew, for sure, the green tea mask I picked-out was going to make me look like a 20 year old again.

1 week after I started using the mask though, I started getting these little white bumps all over my face. I knew something was wrong, but I already had a solution at home — green tea mask. Green tea after all is a potent antioxidant, so I started using the mask twice a day. The bumps got worse so I started cutting-out my old products, thinking I had developed a sudden allergy to a cream or a wash.

What in the heck was causing these bumps? It literally took weeks before I realized what you, Dear Reader, probably think is obvious — it was the green tea mask. Sure enough, after I stopped my skin soon cleared-up.  

But, all this begs a question: Why in the hell did it take me so long to figure-out that the green tea mask was causing the bumps?

I tend to think of myself as someone who is good with natural remedies. I am knowledgeable about healing herbs and other ingredients. Plus, I am a hell of a researcher, I can dig through data and sort fact from fiction. I knew green tea was a “good” ingredient with powerful anti-aging properties. My belief in what I thought I “knew” was so strong that I literally ignored evidence to the contrary even though it was written all over my face. I had a blind spot.

Everyone who drives knows exactly what a blind spot is — its a space that, because of your orientation or your perspective, you just can’t see. But, just because you can’t see something, it doesn’t mean there is nothing there!

This whole Peeking Over the Fence chapter is filled with stories about the lies I believe and truths I ignore: ‘Deserve’ protects me from poverty, smoking laws should follow my personal habits/preferences,  other people are at fault for my sexual misdeeds, my kitchen is always clean and my expectations are always going to be met. I am a special little tree, exempt from decay, free of from the 8 worldly conditions, on an always up-and-up trajectory getting richer and more beautiful by the day.   

The thing is, when in a car we all know we need to be mindful of blind spots because what you can’t see can cause you harm.Time to lead life a little more eyes-wide-open Alana, because my blind spots are going to come and bite me in the ass…or the face, as the case may be. 

It was that not fun time again; time to take my car in for servicing. Since the vehicle was under warranty, I had to go to a dealership and that left me with a tough choice to make — do I go to  the far away dealer in the South Bay where I had bought the car? Or, ugh, to those assholes in Brisbane, a dealership a good 1 hour closer, but damn their customer service sucks.

You see, I already ‘knew’ those Brisbane guys sucked; when we were test driving cars, we went to their dealership first, but they treated us like total crap, ignored us, were rude, and so we left, drove an hour south and bought our car from the South Bay dealer. Still, an hour is an hour, and so I begrudgingly emailed Brisbane for a service appointment. Shocker —  no one got back to me. It took 3 more emails, and a world of frustration, just to finalize a service date.

My heart was aflame with rage when I started thinking, “I need to go write a yelp review of these guys so I can give them exactly what they deserve.” I opened up my yelp account, but just before that Demon Revenge took over my typing fingers, I started to think…”Either these folks are really terrible business people or my situation was an exception. If they are terrible business people, do I really need to write a review? Other customers are likely to have a similar experience, they will stop going and the business will suffer without any help from me. Or, there are folks like me, that chose to go there for something other than good customer service, i.e. convenience, proximity, cost…In these cases, no review I write about customer service will sway them from going to this dealership.

On the other hand, if I was a one off, some exception..what’s the point of writing a review? If normally they are great they will have plenty of customers who return independent of what I say. Plus, I make mistakes sometimes too..I wouldn’t want folks judging my work, my abilities,  based on one mistake I made..why should I do that to others.

At the end of the day, service at the dealership isn’t about me at all. Writing a review, taking my revenge, is, at best, some super small factor in the dealership’s success/ failure anyway. The guilty party here is me: I let some car dealership (later day note: really myself disguised as the idea of this particular car dealership) plant a poison seed — vengeance — in my heart. And when that seed grows, I alone get stuck with its bitter karmic fruits.

 

Background: There was a period of time in which LP Anan was using Aesop’s Fables as a tool to encourage students to think about Dharma; fables are a great way to help people see 2 sides of a story, to internalize, to become critical in identifying main points and themes. The contemplation I am sharing here was not one of these specific fable-related exercises, but rather my thoughts after hearing a Buddhism class recording in which students were discussing The Story of the Ass and the Lapdog.

The story went something like this: A master had 2 animals, a donkey and a lapdog. The donkey worked hard for his master and was treated well, but not nearly as well as the beloved lapdog. The donkey looked at the lapdog and thought to himself, “I toil all day in the field, but that dog just stays home and plays…how is it the dog is treated and fed better than me.” So the donkey,  decides he will act like the dog in hopes of getting the same reward. When he returns home from the field that day, the donkey runs over to the master, jumps in his lap and begins making noise. The master, of course, is not amused and he beats the donkey off his lap.

In the class discussion, folks were almost universally inclined to call the ass the protagonist of the story, to sympathize with a beast of burden not getting his due. But when I heard the story my thoughts went elsewhere…

I couldn’t help but think of the hardships of life as a lapdog; the tremendous hidden costs. Lapdogs lack ‘useful skills’ so their life is wholly dependent on their master. After all, you can’t expect a little dog to go out in the field and make a living or for it to know ‘the ways of the world’ enough to live in the forest with the forest animals. As a being so dependent on their master, a little dog always needs to be vigilant; alert to the master’s needs and how to meet them. If the master wants to cuddle and play, the little dog has no choice but to cuddle and play. If the master wants to be alone, the little dog has no choice but to go elsewhere. A little dog knows its value is in its cuteness/ adorableness, so it  lives with constant pressure to stay adorable always — but in this world, everything is subject to decay — will the little dog still be loved and cared for when it is ugly and old, when it can’t run as fast or jump as high to play? Plus, folks tend to look at a lapdog as frivolous and pampered, not an animal to be taken seriously.

On the outside, it may look like a lapdog has a charmed life, but trust me, I know, lap dogs are not free. You see Dear Reader,  if I am to be totally honest, I am just like that lapdog. I have been cared for, pampered, my whole life. First by my father and then by my husband. Even beyond that, I have always looked for, and been able to attract, lovers and caregivers. Rather than honing ‘useful skills’ like cooking or cleaning or a decently paying vocation, I have honed beauty, sensuality, charm,  wit, and adaptability, as currency for care. Please, please don’t get me wrong I have had loving, sincere and wonderful relationships with my dad, my hubs, and so many other lovers and friends along the way. And yet, I can’t help but empathize with the lapdog in this story and its lovely, gilded, cage.

I suppose though, I also feel for the donkey. The donkey looks ‘over there’ to a different option, another life, and thinks, “that looks better, I want that over there.” Just like I do when I see something I want (like a new life in NYC), some other possibility, the donkey sets its intention and starts scheming for ways to become that dog. How many lifetimes will a donkey focus, work and train to become a dog? How many did it take me? In the end thought it seems we have both found the same thing…new suffering in a new life.  

 

This blog is a direct continuation of the last, Thoughts on Being Entitled Part 1, if you have not yet read that blog please go back and do so now before reading onward.  Thoughts on Being Entitled Part 1 was from an email I sent to Neecha, in this blog I will share her response and some of my further thoughts.

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Neecha’s Response:  

It’s a crazy, complex cycle. I think that we carry a strong foundation of memory over from previous lifetimes, and we build upon it in each lifetime. There’s the whole nature vs nurture element, too. Some things we learn from our culture, our communities, those we admire. But we don’t pick up on all things. Our brand of personality is drawn towards certain things and repulsed by others, but not always. In this way, our identities are very complex, always changing. However, one thing tends to stay the same- we put ourselves first (even when it seems we are sacrificing, we are advancing the view that we are good or we are better than those who can’t make the sacrifice). We are obsessed with self preservation, whether it’s our perceived belongings and comfort, or the person we see ourselves as.

So what can we do about it? Identify the Tuk tok pie (suffering) inherent in the root personalities we are trying to preserve, dig up all the good and bad that stem from this personality, and don’t let it dictate how we live our lives anymore.

Alana’s Final Reply/Thoughts:

This topic keeps growing for me but I have a sense I’m on the right track. I notice that all my big ah-ha moments start when I see that the way I have been thinking about something is so illogical its just ridiculous…

Kinda like this:  All this judgement, which stems from me, is a way I try to give order and make sense of the world. It helps me feel safe because it means I can create rules, follow my own rules and therefore deserve a cookie at the end for being awesome (or I give myself a pass by changing the rules mid course, or I explain away all the times I get crap instead of cookies as random, or someone else’s fault, or stuff that needs a redo). This takes place only in my mind though totally removed from reality. In reality, things are sometimes “messier then acceptable” and the world keeps turning. People I deem unworthy get cookies and people I deem worthy get crap. There are actually rules that govern this world — the 3 characteristics and karma — and they really don’t need any interjection from me at all.

Meanwhile, as a result of all this story telling, I end up with a personality that is harsh and judgmental. The suffering is clear and honestly it’s not how I want to live anymore. It takes so much mental and emotional energy to constantly judge…it hurts me and it hurts my relationships. Plus, it’s the seed of vengeance; this idea that it’s somehow my job to uphold rules and order, it keeping me tethered to so much. Now thought I’m starting to see this for what it is, a trap that I can start trying to avoid by being aware of its mechanics, by noticing it and not just accepting it but thinking through when I feel harshness arise, by noticing the TTP.