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My Very First Contemplation on Yielding

My Very First Contemplation on Yielding

Introductory Note on Timing:  As I was writing the last few blogs I noticed that I had accidentally skipped over this current entry, about yielding, that I had meant to post back in the ‘Odds and Ends’ period. It comes from summer 2013  and, since we are already a little out of order, I thought I would include it this week before we get back to our ‘regularly scheduled blog’…


     If you don’t come, I’ll go…If you don’t do it, I will”        — Luang Por Thoon Khippapanyo

I was outside, sitting on a bench reading, when a bee flew-up and started buzzing around my face.  At first I shifted in my seat, thinking maybe that will get it to go away, but no luck. Next I swat at it a little, wave my book in its direction, I certainly didn’t mean it any harm, but I was hoping it would buzz-off. Again, the bee just stayed-put. Finally I get-up and walk away for a few minutes and come back…the bee is right where I left it. I was so so frustrated. The bee was-up in my world, buzzing around MY SPOT, I just wanted to be left alone to read. For a brief second I think, “I could just kill the bee, squash it and then I would have my spot back in a jiffy”. In that moment my mind screams DANGER DANGER DANGER…I saw it clear as day — this need to defend my body, my space, the willingness to resort to violence to protect whats MINE—  this is how neighbors turn against each other, friends and lovers begin to fight, this is how wars start, how we destroy each other, cause pain for ourselves and the folks around us. I got up, walked away and found a new place to sit.. I yielded and in that moment I was free of the bee, free of the danger of killing the bee, free to continue my reading in peace…

So maybe this all sounds a little blown-out of proportion, a little hyperbolic, going from squishing one bee to World War 3. But, there is another fantastic KPY Technique we sometimes use — Zoom In/Zoom Out. Take the situation we are considering, identify the core issues, the wrong view  if we can find it, and then scale it. Think bigger or smaller according to our need, in order to gather information, clarify the point, the patterns, the costs.

I am a person who, even as a kid, refrained from taking life. My sense of the weight of such an act, the possible perils, is something I never much considered logically, but  sensed on instinct. That’s why when the idea of hurting the bee flickered into my mind, alarm bells went off. I was startled by that raw, dangerous desire to kill and immediately began backing my way into an analysis of my wrong views.

I began with my hot-button topic, control. I wanted to control the bee, control my space, control my body to keep from being stung. I have this deep-seated view that I can exert control to keep myself safe from all the stuff that’s after me. Perhaps it doesn’t work with germs or death or disease, but at least I have some hope with a bee right? But, when my first attempts to control, swatting the bee, temporarily moving away, failed, I  didn’t stop to consider the limitations of my control (even had I killed the bee, would my control have won the day? What about the karma, the consequence, the guilt?) Then  I didn’t question what the costs of exerting control might be (throw-back to the peeing myself story). I just took for granted that I could control, I should –that’s my M.O.

Next I came to the stuff I was trying to exert control  to defend..was it really mine? The bench the spot? I didn’t have deeds to either place, they are public in fact. I assumed I was there first, but then the bee seemed to have a nest nearby. The truth is I sat down and the place became mine, the peace and quiet to read unmolested became my rights –all this happened in my head. But if my right and the bee’s conflict can either really be absolute? Who decides? Does my ability to use force, being bigger than the bee, mean that I should be the keeper of the spot? Does my humanness, my perceived superiority of species over the bee become the criteria? What if there had been an official looking sign reading, “bee free zone” or “human free zone”, would that have settled the case?

This then brings us to the real danger, the concept over which fights start, violence ensues, wars are launched. Mineness, fairness, justice as defined by some criteria I use versus mineness, fairness, justices as defined by the criteria you use.

Late Addition Explanation:   So I will admit here that this whole entry suffers a bit from a later editorial heavy hand. Originally, with this story, I had gotten control, I had gotten a bit about mineness and I had a deep sense of the danger…the way it all fit together however was a bit sketchy. Over time what has become increasingly clear to me is that I stamp certain things as my thing or my right. Then I use custom, or law, or possession, or receipts, or just a firm “because I said so”, to justify my claim…to make it seem so real. Suddenly I have the impulse to act, the need to defend the mineness.  It’s like I go into autopilot and from there I become oblivious to the consequences, or at least, default to the idea that those consequences are worth it, are acceptable.  It took a situation where I thought of killing, something so deeply problematic for me, to snap me out of autopilot and to see the costs, as well as the other options, to move, to yield. Since killing a lowly bee however may not be quite as jolting an idea to you my readers, permit me another tale to clarify:

When I was a kid, my nextdoor neighbor and I had an on-again-off-again war. Sure there were periods of truce, of alliances against other neighborhood gangs, of true friendship even, but usually there was fighting, pranks, tattling and tantrums. At the heart of the conflict was my little brother — both my neighbor and I vying for his attention, for his affection.  One day, I trick the neighbor into his rabbits’ cage and I lock him in. The adults are all worried when he doesn’t come home for dinner, his mom comes and asks if I had seen him, I looked-up with big honest eyes and I replied, “no”. Eventually, of course, my neighbor’s mom finds him, he is ok, the rabbit is ok. I sure got a scolding from the adults and some unremembered retribution from the neighbor, but in the end everyone survived, so it’s easy to call it a cute or funny story,  kids being kids and all.

But when I think about it, it’s really not cute at all; what I was willing to do — take away someone’s freedom, to cause them pain and humiliation, to cause his mom worry, to lie to protect myself — all because my brother was mine, my blood, he was my friend, my companion first. Why should I share, what if I lost him, what if he picks the neighbor over me?  Many adults (though sadly not all), Alana included, have come to see that  incarcerating, lying, torturing others on our whim might not be the best idea. But the seed, the wrong view, it’s still there and it’s scary. It’s not something I want to be subject to, its not an autopilot switch I want hanging out on my dashboard, just waiting for it to control me, to force my hand.

So while I still haven’t beaten mine-ness and me-ness, these days I do stop to ask — in this case, is it worth it to get the last word, to push back, fight back, take back? Do I need to be ‘right’ or can I just be free? Can I let it go? Can I yield?   

Screw, This Dharma Thing

Screw, This Dharma Thing

Screw, This Dharma Thing

It was the 2013 KPY retreat and Mae Yo gave each of her students an everyday object and told us to go out and contemplate it. I eagerly waited in line to receive my object and when I got to the front and opened my hand, Mae Yo gave me a screw. Honestly I was none too pleased with that screw from the get go. Other folks were getting much cooler objects. The person in front of me got a clock, that’s super Dharmay, contemplating time and all, that I could have worked with, but a screw…what the heck was I going to do with a screw?

I went outside and stared at the thing..my first thoughts, screw this, I totally got screwed. It wasn’t really just my object that was upsetting me, it was the whole exercise, it was the fact that I was feeling super stuck in my practice and had been for months. The screw reminded me who was in charge (hint, not me). As much as I wanted to control my object, now I had a burden, a screw I had to safeguard, keep close, not lose. I had an obligation I didn’t want. Worse than my obligation to the screw though was my obligation to the exercise, to my teacher, to my Dharma practice. The longer I stared at the screw the more I freaked-out…the screw became a symbol for my practice, for enlightenment itself, and I was sitting there thinking, “I hate this screw, I have no idea what I’m going to do with it, but it feels like such a burden.”

First off, I did not want to be forced to give up my identity, which I had worked so hard to create. I didn’t want to lose control over my time, didn’t want to give-up the people and activities I loved. I mean really, can serious dharma practitioners/enlightened people travel, do pilates, go shopping, have relationships with husbands and family and friends?  I also didn’t want the responsibility, to the temple, to any kind of religious leadership role (I had had a lot of responsibilities with my Vajrayana community and overtime, especially as I struggled with meaning in my practice, it had become a hardship for me). As I sat there my brain was running wild with all the loss I imagined would come with the ‘burden’ of enlightenment, this sketch from my notebook pretty much summed it up:

Serious Dharma Practice (does not equal) Fun, Carefree, Enjoyable Life

Now that I look at this I laugh…because it assumes my current life is all rainbows and unicorns (which if true would make for a very short and boring blog and no reason for a Dharma practice). But back then, my thought was that it was getting dark, I could grab my car keys from my tent, slip out of the retreat tonight and no one would notice till morning. By that time I would have a solid head start (since the Dharma was after me). My follow-up thought however was a bit more rational, clearly I am suffering (i.e. freaking the hell out) perhaps I should use the method that has worked out pretty well so far and try to identify the wrong views…

  •  I began by asking myself if all this stuff I am worried about losing  was really all that awesome? Can I really keep it and where is the suffering of having it? I started with identity and looked at its components, my body, my family/friends, my hobbies, my stuff.I felt like I had worked so hard building this life, collecting these things, nurturing these relationships — how could I just walk away and leave it behind. But really, that’s the fallacy of a sunk cost, yes I have put in a ton of work, but does that really mean I should put in more?

And man did I work… For my body to stay strong, to be beautiful, I worked-out 3 X a day. I managed my diet vigilantly.  With every pound I lost I was happy but with every pound I gained I was 10X sadder. Then there was my stuff, my clothes, my furniture, all the things that let me control my image. But to afford it all my husband worked a crazy stressful and hard job. I had to watch someone I love suffer, and endure being in a relationship where I often felt like less of a priority than my husband’s job. Still these things we bought broke and faded and needed replacing. And that relationship, that was so important to me, suffered strain and decay as well. And what about all the activities I enjoyed — this blog is already full of stories about the struggles of my travels, time with friends and family, with my hobbies and my job. I knew I struggled, I knew I couldn’t exert control and keep the people and things I loved..still somehow I felt like practicing was going to ‘take’ from me things I wasn’t ready to lose.

  • I already knew I had lost lots of stuff unwillingly,  my next question was had I ever given up anything willingly, rather than having it ‘taken’, and what did that look like. I started by thinking about quitting smoking. Yes, it had been a little hard, but in the end I did it because I was afraid of the risk, tired of the damage it was doing to my body. I had quit yoga for a similar reason, I kept injuring my lower back and I was tired of going back and forth between the yoga studio and my physical therapist. I quit my Vajrayana practice when I got tired of the emotional pain it caused me, my feeling of being lost and angry. I started seeing that there were lots of things I had given up on my own terms, when I was tired of the consequences of them, was it possible enlightenment was  like this too?

At this point I had calmed down just enough to go and ask for help…Frankly I was still feeling stuck in my practice and like a real wreck until Neecha helped me see the next 2 wrong views:

  • Just because something is unknown does it necessarily mean it’s bad? Scary?

Part of my fear of continuing to practice, of eventual enlightenment, was that whatever it is, it’s not something I know, it’s some big scary place ‘over there’. My life may be a bit of a mixed-bag, but I prefer the known to the unknown. I prefer what I believe I can control to what seems uncontrollable to me. But can I really control this life? And will all limited control disappear as I move along the path? This brought me to the deepest problem…

  • Even though I was (and am) unenlightened, I assumed I knew exactly what that state would look like if I did ever get there. I assumed that it was a proscriptive state, it had various rules and restraint, that were exactly what I (from my unenlightened state) imagined they would be. I thought it was like hitting the security checkpoint at the airport, I would have to leave behind unticketed companions (like my family and friends), water bottles, and other stuff I still loved and wanted but, which broke the TSA/enlightenment  rules.

Finally Neecha said something to me that really resonated, she said, “do you wear glasses? Contacts?” “Yes, I do” I said. Neecha said, “enlightenment is like putting on glasses, it’s not like everything changes, it’s like seeing the world much more clearly than you did before”.  Honestly, I was not fully convinced, I still had my anxiety, my reservations, about my practice and the direction I was going. But, I had cleared it up enough, gotten enough clarity to get unstuck. In my head I told myself, I’ll keep going, I’ll see where this leads, I can always freak out later afterall…

Now that I look back at this story, at the period that preceded it, I suspect that this fear of moving forward was keeping me stuck. In fact, the next big ‘aha moment’, the one that begins the next “phase’ of my path actually happened just a few days after this story. Guess I wasn’t quite so screwed afterall…  

 

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Is a Warm, Spot in the Shade so Much to Ask For?

Is a Warm, Spot in the Shade so Much to Ask For?

I was doing a walking meditation, contemplating the inevitability of aging. I thought a little about my body, my life, my family…thought about old pictures and how different everyone looks. Thought about clothes and sizes … Still nothing was really penetrating, I was just going through the motions. I kept pacing, pacing, pacing, and suddenly I became aware of my path.

Originally, I had been walking a circle that had a little bit of sun and a little bit of shade; it was just right. But as I walked, the day aged and I lost the sun. I couldn’t control the sun moving in the sky –gravity, planetary forces, physics are what set those conditions. I can alter my circle a little, I can change to a shadier path: I can wear make-up, get botox, use spanx, choose flattering clothes, use all sorts of lotions and potions, I have limited control. But as the day ages, as I age, it gets harder and harder, I have to walk further and further and still I lose the shade, I lose my beauty and youth. If I keep walking long enough, all the shade will go away. I will be one of those little old ladies, no amount of strawberry hair dye or hot pink lipstick can hide that I have grown old and my beauty, like the shade, has gone away.  I exert a little control, but for how long?

Tired of pacing, I decided to have a seat on a nearby bench. It was again, a nice balance between shade and sun.  But the sun didn’t stop shifting just because I had stopped pacing and before long my perfect shade to sun ratio was lost. It was beginning to get too hot so I moved the bench under a big tree and again I was comfortable. It was only a little while though till I was too hot again –the shade was just disappearing! I fiddle with the bench a bit more and then I realized. For a brief moment, out of all the moments in the day, I was happy, comfortable. For a brief time I was the right age, young (but not too young), beautiful. But In that comfort, in that perfect moment, the seeds of my discomfort were planted –it couldn’t stay the perfect temperature for me, I couldn’t stay the perfect age.

In that moment, I realized there were so many things in this world I never worried about, never missed, never tried to have, to keep, to preserve. For example, I never fantasized about sprouting wings and flying. Flying like a bird just isn’t something I hope for or that I want to achieve. My mind knows this is impossible. But a few moments at the right age, at the right temperature, these are traps for my mind. They are the foundation of further wanting, further efforts to control. They plant the seeds of hope…
The truth is, if I sat on that bench all day long maybe 1 -2 hrs out of 24 would be perfect, most would be too hot, then too cold. I had some limited control, for a little, I could move the bench, put on a sweater, but ultimately, over the course of the day there would be places my control ceased –I would be too hot or too cold. If I never got used to the comfort, if I really thought about how limited my abilities to recreate it were –how much I was at the mercy of the elements — would I keep wanting to sit? Seeing the work that goes into preserving my perfect moment, my perfect age, seeing the inevitability of my failure. Why do I keep trying? Why do I keep coming out and sitting on benches again and again (being born again and again) expecting one of these days will be different? One of these days I’ll win — after all, is it really too much to ask for a warm, shady spot all the time?

Amazon oh Amazon Bring me My Box, I Hit the Button So I Must Be the Cause

Amazon oh Amazon Bring me My Box, I Hit the Button So I Must Be the Cause

I’m preparing for the 2013 retreat and I get a brilliant idea — solar powered shower.  See, back in 2012 I had to take a few cold showers and I was none too pleased. So, I decided this year I would be prepared; I would bring one of those camping showers that had solar panels to heat the water. No more cold showers for me!!

I did all my research, read reviews, picked-out the best product. Then, with weeks of time left before the retreat, I placed my order with Amazon. When it arrived, I checked it out, tested for holes or leaks, made sure the panel worked. When it came time to drive-up to the retreat, I packed it safely in my car. I was ready.

Freakish, unseasonal thunderstorms. That’s what we got at the 2013 retreat. Days and days and days of no sunshine at all. So much for a solar powered shower…

I did all the “right” things, I researched a good product, I ordered it in time, I remembered to pack it, I packed it well so it didn’t break. Plus I was being a good Alana, a super-tree-huggy-power-saving-eco-lover that all the gods should bless ;).  But then it rained. I took the experience to heart, used it as evidence to see the limitations of my control. That  control, it got me a product, got me up the mountain with it, gave me the illusion I was managing the situation, but the weather showed me that my control is clearly not the last word. The lesson: my control is partial. But still my control is real, right? I’m in control of some things, that must be true right? Ok, my control as limited… I can work with that.

And now for a later day addition to this story: Fast forward 3 years to several weeks ago (Aug 2016). I order a box on Amazon,  I selected the product, choose the 3 day shipping window, clicked buy. 3 days later, no package. It said it was coming, there was no warning anything had gone wrong, but on that 3rd day, the sun rose and the sun set and I still had no package. WTF???

Seriously, I know I can’t control the weather … but Amazon it’s so dependable, it always sends packages, I did all the right things, WTF???

As I stare at the screen of my computer trying to figure out what exactly to do about the package now…I realize, my control is not limited.  It doesn’t exist at all.  If I were really in control, I would be in control all the time —  that is the nature of control (it means I am the one that causes, that I can override any other causes, that something is totally part of my volition, my will). If I control my car there will never be that one accident, if I control my body there will never be that weight gain, if I control my packages there will never be one that goes missing. It’s like being pregnant, you are or your not, its binary, that’s the nature of pregnancy. It’s not like there can be a little pregnant, limited pregnancy…that’s not how it works.

So what’s really happening here? Where is my mistaken view of control arising from?  I observe patterns, I remember that an Amazon 3 day has come countless times before and I assume I’m somehow the cause, or at least a partial cause (ie if I order 3 days, pay my prime membership, click the right button,  I’ll get the box). I click the button I get a box, I click the button I get a box, I click the button I get a box, I click the button I get a box –it must be my clicking the button that causes the box!

I have a permanent thought (wrong view) that what has happened before/what I imagine is how things really are/will be. Or that if it’s not, I can intervene, I can call the post office, get a new package sent, do something to MAKE IT HAPPEN. I insert my big fat self into the mix and think I’m the ‘cause’. I want to think that, need to think it, to lend credibility to my specialness. To believe the world is a safe place all buttoned-up, in which I have some measure of control.

The truth however is that the box’s arrival depends on its own set of rules. Sure, my desire for the package may plant the seed. But a seed, after being planted, grows based on soil, water, light, so many factors independent of the the farmer. The Amazon box also has countless factors that go into getting it to my door, the seller, the shipper, the product, the mail, the road system, and many more…all of these beyond me, beyond my control. How then can I say one input, clicking the button (desiring something),  that sometimes does and sometimes doesn’t work, is control? And how do I fail to notice that by ordering the box, thinking full well it would come, wanting it, needing it to come, I planted a second seed, a shadow seed — the seed of my disappointment when it doesn’t come. The seed of my effort to intervene, to call the post office, to try and get a new item, to hope again for the box and subject myself to potential disappointment all over again if it still does not come.  

How many more times will I make this same mistake? For how much longer will I tell myself fairy tales about Alana the center and master of the universe who has warm showers and packages revolve around me? I don’t know. But I do know there is a third seed that has been planted, the seed of truth. Understanding is starting to take root. The world is clearly telling me its nature, my nature. I just need to gather the evidence,to listen,  to learn to believe.

Bag Lady Alana

Bag Lady Alana

Panhandlers have always annoyed me. I feel so uncomfortable when I’m asked for money on the street…I feel so torn,  put on the spot, so UGHHH. On one hand, I don’t want to be a ‘bad’ Alana and say no. On the other hand, my Inside Voice is screaming… “what did you do to deserve my money?” (give or take a few vulgarities…that voice in my head has a potty mouth).  

One day, I’m on the street carrying a bag full of bags that I was selling as part of the temple’s Sappan Boon fundraiser. Someone asks me for money and before I could reach for my wallet, before my inside voice started screaming, I realized  “oh snap this is just like me and my bag sales.”

At first, with the bag sales, I only wanted to ask folks close to me. Only those I thought owed me something. See I’m the kind of person that likes a ‘balanced book’ on my debts. I give if I think you are ‘worthy’ or are valuable to me and I try not to ask too much in return.  I rather have someone owe me one than the other way around. Naturally (because I’m a predictable creature if nothing else) a lot of this has to do with control, or the illusion of it anyway. If books are balanced, relationships are tit for tat, or, at least if I’m on top, things are predictable, they are on my terms. I am in control. If I owe someone else, if I need to rely on others, to depend on their help, well then I’m not in control and I’m burdened by a debt (and believe me debts weigh very heavy on my heart… my biggest ones I fear I will never be able to repay). Double no bueno.

When it came time to helping support the Wat though, I wanted to do more (I’m in mega debt to my teachers and the 3X  gems after all). I am such a recluse, have so few friends/family, that if all of them bought bags  I would have sold like 10 bags (and that’s only if some folks bought two). When I really thought about asking strangers and random folks, I realized “I don’t know other people’s karma. I don’t know their reasons for wanting or not wanting to buy a bag. I don’t know what benefits it will have for them. Really, I am just the seller, the conduit to transfer a bag. Its not all about me or my debt ledger.” And, as much as I hated to admit it, that meant I wasn’t really in control.    

The Panhandlers are the same thing. My reservations about both asking and giving are rooted in my wrong view that things will happen on my terms. That as long as I have those terms, stick to them, they make me in control, safe. That those terms are some kind of universal truth, that I am all knowing enough to know what that truth is, what that balance sheet really looks like.  I want to ask the owers and give to the worthy. But again, like with the bag buyers, I don’t know the panhandlers karma, their story, I don’t know my connection with them or their connection with the other folks they ask for money. In truth I look at them, the circumstance, the rupa  and I snap a judgment.  I really don’t even know if they meet my own criteria of ‘worthy or valuable’ (whatever that means or is). If I knew they were some kind of hero, some great compassionate soul, a scholar,or an animal rights advocate, or a Bhuddisty Buddhist, anyone I am biased towards then wouldn’t I actually want to give to them instead of doing it because I feel guilty?

In the end, I swallowed  my discomfort and started asking everyone — literally, everyone –to buy a bag.  I asked co-workers, folks at my local restaurants, made announcements at every class I went to at the gym, asked my hairstylist, the parking attendants at my garage, neighbors, basically anyone who didn’t run away before I could get a sentence out. And while that was still probably not a ton of folks (I live a pretty small life), I did it with freedom from being bogged down by the all about me-ness.

As for the panhandling, my ughhh feeling was eased a lot after this contemplation, but still a bit of a thorn in my side. That wasn’t quite resolved till years later when this topic came-up again. When this contemplation rose to the surface and I used it, fed on it, transformed it into a mega twisting tale of criteria and judgment, deserving and desire, suffering, being an A****** to others, frying squids alive, being a player in my youth, IBS, desperately needing the bathroom and, of course, panhandling. Hopefully, I have left you wondering just how that tale unfolds. I’m afraid you will need to wade through quite a few more blogs before we get there. So read on Dear Readers, read on…

I Was Run Down by a Rhino and I Lived to Tell the Tale

I Was Run Down by a Rhino and I Lived to Tell the Tale

So yes, seriously, I did in fact get run down by a black rhinoceros when I was on safari in Kenya. Lets just say that some big learnings followed that encounter. Here I will share the entry from my notebook just after the incident (because, of course, I brought notebook on safari just in case I had a dharma moment). Note, this is another example that closely follows the 5 Question Method outlined in Method to Undo the Madness :

The Story:  I am on a walking safari vacation in Kenya and we come across a mamma rhino and her baby standing a small distance away. Our guide advises us to get closer and hide behind a small bush. He then  proceeds to start making sounds that he hopes will get the rhinos to come out of the shrubs where they are eating. I watch the mamma rhino begin to shift, looking kind of agitated. I thought to ask the guide to stop, but the guide, who was armed with a gun, explained, “we are totally safe, rhinos ‘mock’ charge all the time but rarely actually attack.” The next thing I know the rhino is real charging and I am directly in her path. I think, “crap, I’m going to get hit.” Then I think, “how is this possible, I’m going to die on vacation”. Then I think, “well it clearly can happen, some folks do in fact die on vacation”. Between all these thoughts…I curl into a ball on the ground, the rhino kicks me, but I’m below her horn so I avoid being gored. And then, I’m alright. Sore, achy, but alright. We walk back to camp and I head straight for my notebook.

The Wrong View/Concept:

  • 1) That the guide or the gun or the shrub would protect us. That someone or something can guarantee safety all the time.  In truth, I don’t control the guide, the gun, the rhino or the shrub so how can I assume a guarantee of safety when it is completely beyond my control?
  • 2) That the rhino’s behaviors are predictable. That it will mock charge but not really charge. That any situation has a predictable outcome. That what usually happens, or what happened before, is by definition what will happen again. In truth, even if a rhino mock charges 1000 times that does not mean that 1001 will also be a mock charge.
  • 3) That I would surely get run down, and if I was run down I would die. This is the same logic I used in Homeless Alana (if I hug then I will get swine flue, then die) and the story with my friend Barb (if she doesn’t invite me out then she doesn’t want to be my friend) and 1000 other places. It’s the belief that for sure A gets me to for sure Z without considering all the other possibilities in between.

The X Factor: As a reminder, the X number, is where I tie in other stories, where I identify deeper issues or tendencies going on that are part of a pattern of my beliefs/personality (sandan). In this story there is a biggie — animals and I have a special relationship together and we are, on a whole, A OK with each other. You can actually see hints of it in some of the other stories I have shared; Compassionate Alana who is kind to animals to be loved, Vegetarian Alana who defines her special goodness through not eating animals. Going all the way back to my childhood infact, there are endless occasions where I protect animals, or turn to them for love and support when I can’t get humans to fulfill those needs, or in general make myself special in relation to the animals. I asked myself, if that rhino had been a car driving dangerously with a driver that looked agitated, would I have gotten so close? Would I have so easily believed someone who said it was going to be OK? The truth is, despite my many many fears, the fact that I thought death lurked around every corner, I never worried about harm coming from an animal. In my crazy mind, which saw the world only from my view, I  thought I love my furry/feathered friends so they must love me back.  Which brings me to a final wrong view:

  • 4) That its not my karma to be killed by an animal, that they are no danger to me. That I can know my karma, that it is based on my limited understandings and one sided wrong views. That this world is a simple tit for tat –I love you so you must love me too. That anything, any class of beings is uniform, the same, that I can label them all ‘safe’ and move on.

The Risks: I could be injured or killed.  The rhino could be injured or killed. The baby rhino could be left without a mom. The guide could lose his livelihood. Our vacay could be ruined. Eric could no longer want to travel. Folks could be less inclined to visit Kenya and tourism could be hurt.
The Dharma:  Clearly, rupa plays a starring role in this story. The form of the gun, the guide, the rhino… I try and reify (to make real and solid) form, assign it a certain meaning or function so that in my mind I can make it something predictable. I ignore that form changes, that the meaning I assign to it also changes, that those meanings are not for real or for sure.  I do this for my own agenda —  to feel safe, to feel a sense of well-being and security, to explain the world and my place in it. So for me, animal = friend. Or gun=safety. Or guide = all knowing. Ironically though, this fixed belief in the meaning of rupa does the opposite of keep me safe. It obscures risk, hides the dangers. This story clearly illustrates the falsehood of my  beliefs and the perils in holding them.

The Buddhist Who Loves Bacon

The Buddhist Who Loves Bacon

I love bacon –seriously, I do a little celebration dance in the kitchen whenever my husband cooks it. I wrote a little song too: Bacon bacon such a treat, something super delicious to eat…But, it wasn’t always this way, in fact I was a moral vegetarian for more than 20 years. Squiggly line zoom-out…

I was about 10 years old, my  family was driving around Miami on a Saturday evening and, out of the blue, we saw a pig jump out of the back of a truck, get hit by a car and run into the bush aside the road. We, being good, caring people, stop the car, chase the pig down and put it in the back of my Dad’s fancy Cadillac. So now the real question…what do we do with a pig?

After finding the pig medical care, we brought him home and named him Traif. One day my brother decided to feed Traif bacon and, being the little piggy that he was, he ate it. I was appalled, I felt like I would never want Traif to be made into bacon and I extended that emotion to all other animals. I felt  disgust with my brother too — seriously, feeding a pig bacon, ugh!. I had already come to the conclusion that I was better than Seth in my extraordinary compassion, and here was another chance to prove it with my actions — I stopped eating meat that day and began 20 years of being a burden on all the humans who ever wanted to cook for and care for me, starting with my Mom and Dad. Over the years I layered more elaborate moral arguments onto my initial decision.  But at the heart of it, I was a little girl who saw something emotionally shocking and felt like I wanted to do something to help. Only later did I realize that I was mostly  just ‘helping’ myself…

Fast forward to a few years ago. Initially, it was my doctor’s suggestion I start eating meat to deal with some digestive and blood sugar issues I was having. I was so hesitant, I wanted to be a good person and good people are vegetarians. Right? But then again, I also wanted to be a healthy person and in my case, that may mean eating meat. I decided it was time to consider what wrong views may be underlying my diet:

1)   Being a vegetarian can’t make me a good person —  I realized, over time, being a vegetarian was part of a particular identity I had established for myself –“Alana the Good Person”. Even from the get-go, part of my decision to stop eating meat revolved around being better than my brother and being compassionate to animals. The longer I was a vegetarian the more I saw it as an identifying characteristic of myself and as evidence of myself as a good person (and a person who was better and morally superior to others).

As part of my broader practice I started confronting a number of the identities I have created for myself, including the “Alana as a Good Person” one and probing them as to their truth and desirability. So in this case some of the questions were: Is there such a thing as a 100% always good person? Is it an identity I can have? I realized that sometimes I do things I judge as good and other times as bad. So am I a Good Person if my actions are mixed? Moreover the same act that I may judge as good can be judged as bad by others. Also, its situational, sometimes something can be good and other times that same act can be bad.  

I contemplated a number of actions I had assigned as kind and compassionate, not eating meat was one of them.  So,  if not eating meat really is good can it balance out other bad things I do and make me net good as a person? I also thought about situations where eating meat could be good, or at least neutral –what if I was starving? What about not refusing something offered if I worry doing so might cause offense? What about honoring cultural or religious norms of places I visit?

I saw that there is actually no such thing as a good person or a good action all the time—I was striving to be something that doesn’t exist. I also realized that my actions to be a good person were mostly self-serving … Good Person Alana wanted approval from others, wanted to be loved, wanted to be treated with the same “kind compassion” I treated others, including animals, with. Good Person Alana was actually not all that altruistic.  In the process though I was ignoring that there could be actions and identities that are more or less appropriate at certain times. For me I found that sometimes eating meat could be desirable, like when it helps stabilize my blood sugar, or makes it easier on hosts cooking for me. Sometimes it may not be appropriate, like if I developed trouble digesting meat, or if I went to stay in home that had rules that everyone should cook vegetarian food in the kitchen.  Either way, by clearing-up the misconception that being a vegetarian makes me good (or even more profoundly that I can be an absolutely good person), I was able to open myself to making decisions on a case-by-case basis that frankly causes me much less suffering.

2)  The idea that not eating meat was allowing me to assert control over the welfare of animals and over my relationship with animals was completely false:    Even at first blush this is pretty ridiculous. After all, I wasn’t raiding factory farms and freeing the cows. I was just not eating what was already packaged in the store.  Still –in my mind I was super heroically transferring the virtue of my meat abstinence into the living condition of animals –impressively delusional no? I came to realize that this notion was hubris. As was the more subtle lurking idea –I knew what animals deserved and it was my role to somehow interrupt their fate, in whatever way I could, in order to control its outcome. Basically I came to see that this is a pretty deep misunderstanding of karma. In reality I have no idea what got animals, or anyone, into the situation they are in. To believe that blindly, and based on my own poorly informed judgments, I should (even if I could) intervene is ridiculous. I’m not saying its never appropriate to act or intervene –just that I was applying a blanket misunderstanding to create a blanket rule. Intervene, in one particular way, in all cases.

3)   That I could have my cake and eat it too.  I wanted to be a vegetarian even though it was creating health problems for me.  So on one hand, I wanted to be a vegetarian, on the other I wanted to feel good and be healthy. For me, at that time, the two were mutually exclusive and I was suffering for wanting both outcomes when only one seemed possible.   What finally  prompted me to start eating meat again was realizing that I was the one setting-up all the trouble, after all, I was the one creating rules (based on my own wrong views) for a diet that made me feel ill.

 

Ubaitam in the Ocean

Ubaitam in the Ocean

I was in Mendicino, a charming seaside town in Northern Cali, and I’m staring out the window of a coffee shop, watching the ocean, impatiently waiting for Eric to get his latte. At first I was mesmerized by the crashing waves, the churning near the rocks, it was so so beautiful. Then suddenly I thought, from here, from this perspective, this viewpoint, it’s all beauty no pain. I don’t notice, don’t think about…the rocks are so sharp, so dangerous, the water so cold, just below the surface are animals that bite, that sting, that cause harm, peril.

How is my own life like this? Where are the places, the things, the relationships in which I only see the surface, the one side, I forget the costs?

The truth is, this brief contemplation was shallow, not full or complete. It was before I really began to see and comprehend the way suffering permeates my life. I  didn’t yet understand how to look at the rupa —  the car, the clothes, my body, my beauty  — and see the dark side. Or my imagination, my aspirations — having that princess charmed life, having that ‘dangerous’ and mysterious lover, having that high powered partner — and seeing the costs. That came later. Much later.

But this Ubai, like the plants, it stayed with me. Gnawed at my mind for years. I share it now, Dear Reader, so you get it in the same course  I did. So that when it comes up again you can trace the timing, you can appreciate how long a seed can stay below the surface. Also, so you know…not every story of mine or thought has a neat conclusion, a short tie-up. But over time my mind has a pattern of coming back to examples, thoughts, themes when I am ready for them to grow.

 

Incompetent Employees and the Voices in My Head

Incompetent Employees and the Voices in My Head

I had this employee, let’s call him Glen, who just couldn’t get it together and stop making mistakes. I tried everything — I taught him, nurtured him, scolded him, guilted him, spelled-out the consequences of his mistakes, warned him — but still, every assignment he turned in was filled with errors . I WAS FRUSTRATED BEYOND BELIEF. Glen was a smart guy, he seemed pretty normal, with the skills of other opposable thumbed creatures, so how, HOW, was it possible that his attention to detail could be so bad ??? What in the heck am I supposed to do about it now???

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Interjection: For all of you  that read the above paragraph and thought, “well duh..of course you are frustrated” or “Glen is a screw-up, you have every right to be upset with him, do what you must” or some other version of,  “my feelings are Glen’s fault and my reaction based on those feelings is reasonable” — this blog is for you!  After the story I will address the issue of how I separate my feelings, or ‘Inside Voice’,  from my roles and responsibilities in the outside world,  aka my ‘Outside Voice’.

I have learned that separating the Inside Voice from my beliefs about outside roles is critical for practice. Without doing this its sooo easy to fall into the trap of blaming my outside roles and responsibilities for my wrong views instead of fixing the views and, by fixing them, having a much clearer sense of how to perform real world duties. If I had just said there is nothing wrong with me, with my frustration, Glen really is a screw-up and it is my duty to fix it,  I would have had all the suffering of my frustration, I would have allowed that frustration to dictate my actions (likely firing Glen),  and then felt guilty, always wondering if I had made the right decision, since I fired Glen in a fit of frustration.  Game over, no one wins… So back to the story…

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First off, whenever I am  truly surprised I know there is a wrong view lurking. I believe something about the world is true in all cases, which is impossible. So,  why couldn’t I believe a smart, normal, human could be detail challenged? I have met lots of absent minded professor types, I have a donor at work who fits the profile –so smart, so nice, so generous, but he can’t remember start times, can’t find concert tickets, doesn’t even know what day it is. I like him just fine… so, is it  really all humans I think need to be attentive to details, or just my employees?

Was it because he was hired to do an administrative job and really I thought all Admins had to be detail oriented? I am detail oriented after all, I hired him, I know what I was looking for, why wasn’t he what I expected? Why wasn’t he like me? Or maybe he was…

Flashback moment… For many years I took piano lessons. I  went to class consistently, I practiced on my little keyboard, I did my homework, I wanted to learn. I think I am a smart and normal human, I definitely have an opposable thumb — but I am a horrible piano player. Sure I improved a little over time, but really, for all my effort, I just sucked. So why can’t I believe that someone else would have something they also sucked at? I was a piano student who sucked at piano. My Admin was an Admin that sucked at detail oriented administrative work. Is this really so impossible? Should I be totally surprised? Upset?

I remember too, my piano teacher didn’t suck. She played well, she was attentive and instructive. I heard some of her other students play and they sounded fine. But, despite all she did to help me, I remained a terrible pianist. I wonder if she was as frustrated with me as I was with Glen. Or, if she saw the truth — no matter what you do, you can’t control other people, you can’t make them something they are not. Those people are not yours, they are not under your power. Sure you can provide guidance, you can give feedback, you can discipline and teach. But in the end,  you can’t make a terrible piano player into a concert pianist and you can’t make a non-detail oriented person into someone detail oriented. At most we can be a factor in someone’s success or failure, it’s not like we are an ultimate cause.

In fact, for as much as I saw myself as a hero trying to ‘fix’ my broken employee. I played a starring  role contributing to the problem in the first place…I hired Glen after all. Glen was my first hire, my first employee, I had no idea what I was doing. I knew what I was looking for (someone detail oriented  like me) but when I look back at the interview questions that I wrote, they were terrible indicators that someone had the skills I was looking for. Glen may have sucked as my Admin, but I sorta sucked as a Manager too…

And now it’s time for another later addition, an insert that doesn’t really follow the timeline of my practice, but which provides extra information I want to highlight. Here I want to talk about a technique (not KPY sanctioned, I came-up with this one on my own),  I call:

Separate the Inside Voice from the Outside Voice:

In this world, we all have duties, we have roles that we have to play.  I  play boss, employee, spouse, daughter, sister, student, customer, patient,  etc.. when I interact with folks outside my own head, I use what I call my Outside Voices. I really try to use my very best outside voice possible — basically because I have noticed that when my outside voice  (words, tones, intensity, timing, actions) is wrong for a situation it can get ugly fast. FYI If you are interested in some more details of a helpful outside voice guideline the Buddha gave us called the Sappurisa Dhamma you can check-out LP Anan’s class: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=re9E0G7IsWw&index=2&list=PLVuzoIVk88hhgIMzqmf4sNdoPlULI5DMX

I also have an Inside Voice. This is the understanding that I have of a situation in my head/heart. If I have right views then my inside voice is correct, it is aligned with the true nature of this world (the Dharma). If I have wrong views that inside voice is dead wrong, it sees permanence in a world that is always changing.

The critical thing to realize is that the way we ‘play’ in the outside world, our Outside Voice, does not always have to say what our Inside Voice believes. On some level, I think we all know this. For example, when a store clerk asks how my day is, I say “good” or “fine”; even if it’s a terrible day; it’s really not appropriate to spill my problems to the store clerk after all. Guys out there…when you have already left the house, you’re stepping into an event, and your gal suddenly whispers, “do I look fat in this dress?”, there really is only one right answer no matter how she looks.

By extension, even if we correct our Inside Voice, really see the impermanence and the places we are at fault in a situation, it doesn’t mean we suddenly stop fulfilling our roles in the outside world …its not like we can say, huh I can’t ultimately control my teenager so I won’t bother to punish them for sneaking-out at night. Or, I know this patient of mine will live or die based on their karma, so I’m not going to bother giving them medicine.  Or I was the one who hired this person, that was my mistake, now I am stuck with them no matter how much they mess-up or cost the company. This would be ridiculous and ultimately, the clearer my views become, the more naturally correct behavior comes anyway…

It really was a huge ah-ha moment when I understood that just because I have a duty to manage my employee it does not mean,  in my heart, I need to be upset by their work quality. Even if given the situation it is appropriate  to scold them, fire them, (sometimes for some folks to yell at them), it doesn’t mean I need to be angry, hurt, disappointed, etc. inside my heart.

In the end, I fired Glen. I put him on a performance plan first, tried to support him in correcting his mistakes, but when I felt like I had exhausted all my options, I let him go. I did it with a clear heart as well. By correcting my wrong views I was no longer so frustrated, I saw the role I played in the events and I saw what role (changing Glen) I ultimately couldn’t play. I learned from my mistakes too.. It took a few more hires, I’ll admit, but  I started to change my interview tactics, changed the background checks,  I refined the training I provided, the feedback I gave, etc.

To-may-toe, To-mah-toe, Po-tay-toe, Po-tah-toe, Alana, Sandy

To-may-toe, To-mah-toe, Po-tay-toe, Po-tah-toe, Alana, Sandy

Again, I have chosen a story that utilizes a method that I have found particularly helpful in my practice. The method, which was taught at the 2012 KPY retreat, basically takes 2 objects and compares them as follows:

  • A is Better than B
  • B is Better than A
  • A and B are essentially the same
  • A and B are so different from each other they are not worth comparing

Back in the day, I liked this method as a quick fix –something that really forced me to shift my perspective in a hurry, something to take the edge off of a bloated sense of self. Without further ado, here is the story:

I was on my way home and my husband called to tell me that our friends Sandy and Blake were at our house, unexpectedly, to borrow  something. As soon as I hung-up the phone I started feeling uneasy –I really didn’t feel like seeing those guys at all. I was already edgy about Sandy and Blake from their mooching (see the last blog). Plus, at the time, I couldn’t quite put my finger on why (don’t worry, this will be the topic of a future blog), but even though I loved Sandy, she could really get under my skin — the things she said and did annoyed me. A lot. Often. I simply wasn’t in the mood that day.

I pull over the car, to stall, but also to contemplate a bit. To try to do something to set my heart at ease enough that I wasn’t being mean to everyone as soon as I stepped foot in the door. Here is what I thought:

Alana is Better than Sandy: Well Duh. Of course I’m better in all ways…but more specifically, I am smarter, more responsible, prettier, I dress better, I actually have a job,  I had better grades in school, I am richer, more generous, more articulate, I don’t mooch,  I am more considerate, more conscientious,  more physically fit, I plan ahead, am more calculated, more cautious, more compassionate,  people just like me better (some people anyway…).

Sandy Is Better than Alana: Sandy is more fun, more care free, skinnier, easier going, has more friends, more adventurous, more outgoing, more open to new things and new people, more outdoorsy, more tolerant of change, Sandy goes with the flow, is less of a worrier, more of a caregiver, Sandy cooks, she is crafty, good with her hands, good with kids, good in new situations, gives her husband more freedom, people just like her better (some people anyway…)

Sandy and Alana are Basically the Same: Honestly, we are both 30 something white women living in SF.  We grew up with rich daddies and married young. We  are both college educated, have masters degrees, we like the same music, the same food, the same hangouts, the same activities, we have the same set of friends. We both like to play dress-up and peacock around. We both try to find jobs that make us seem important, busy enough, but not sooo busy or sooo important as to be stressful. We both bask in our sense of self awesome, open-minded, new agey hippy crap. We love to jump on trends that reinforce our hip sense of our hip selves. We spend every Friday night, almost every free moment, together, doing the same things. If she weren’t blond and I weren’t brunette –would anyone even notice if you switched one of us out for the other? In those critical ways that make up our everyday identity we are basically the same. Why quibble over who is better or worse?

Sandy and Alana are so Different from Each Other We are Not Worth Comparing:  Sandy and I each have our own families, husbands, jobs and responsibilities. We manage each of these according to the rules, the norms, that we believe are appropriate, based on our own experiences and beliefs. We each have our own dreams, our own aspirations for the future. What success means to me is different than what it means to Sandy. What makes me happy, satisfied, anxious or angry are totally different than the things that evoke those responses in Sandy. Ultimately, my karma and Sandy’s are totally different from each other, so what is the point in comparing tomatoes to potatoes, they aren’t the same vegetable at all.

When I started the car again, it was with a profound sense of relief. Relief from the burden of needing to return home and keep vigilant watch, to note each of Sandy’s words or actions as evidence in my case against her and in favor of me. Overtime, my annoyance crept back…it wasn’t for quite a while longer till I started finding the deeper causes of my unrest with Sandy and could start killing them at their root.

Warning, this is another current day addition…looks like I just can’t help myself: I have used this method several times over the course of my practice with some very epic issues. Watching the pattern, I can look behind the curtain a bit and see where the profound power of this exercise lies:  it uses a sneaky trick of my mind — the way in which I use comparisons to define the world — against myself. This exercise forces me to face the fact that it is my perspective, informed by all of my past experiences, biases and beliefs, that colors my ‘reality’ — Alana is better than Sandy. In truth however, there are always 2 sides, Sandy is also better than Alana in certain ways, at certain times, and according to certain people.

Deeper still, is that if I am able to see both sides, to minimize the bias for self, I can start to see that these comparisons I use to prop-up myself, the things I love and believe in, are hollow; ultimately, things, people, are so similar — made of the same elements, the same aggregates, arising and ceasing, having virtues and flaws, for people having hopes and disappointments, etc.  This exercise has helped bring me way more humility because it shows me my own unexceptionalism.

Deepest of all, no two things are the same. In fact no one thing is the same from one moment to the next. For Sandy and I, we each have our own unique causes, karma, factors, directions and ultimately cessations. We are comparable only in my mind, only in select aspects, only for a very short time, only to serve my own agenda. So where is the sense in comparing? In boosting my sense of self with ‘information’ that ultimately fails to see the impermanence of each of our arising and ceasing? In tethering my sense of self to someone else, to something else,  when in the end, that causes me to be the one who is bound, tied, imprisoned, not free.

Stop Being Such a Mooch

Stop Being Such a Mooch

I had these friends, we’ll call them, Blake and Sandy, who were always mooching off my husband and I. When we went to dinner, the grocery, the farmers market, the movies, these two would just stand on the side while my hubs and I pulled-out our wallets. I figured, for sure, when they hung out with other friends, it couldn’t be like that. So why were we always expected to pick-up the tab?

The situation really tore me-up, I worried we couldn’t afford to pay for 4 all the time, we had to use our money to meet our own wants and needs, to save for retirement, a rainy day. I imagined-up a future scenario where we were just a few dollars shy of being able to pay for my life saving surgery…If only we hadn’t bought those ice creams for Blake and Sandy. On the other hand, I didn’t want to be greedy; my husband and I made more money than Blake and Sandy so shouldn’t we be the ones to pick-up the tab? Then again (so many voices in my head), I couldn’t help feeling taken advantage of, maybe they couldn’t pay for a fancy meal, but would an occasional cup of coffee be too much to ask for?  

But, of course, there are a ton of wrong views and pretty deep concepts here (you may have noticed already that that’s sort of the theme of all these posts ;)) so let’s take a closer look:

1) That friends are all supposed to behave in some fixed, predictable, formulaic way. When it comes time to picking-up the bill, either bills should be split equally or those with more should always pony-up more. The problem was, if things should always be split equally, I was violating my own rules. My husband is the big earner in our house — let’s just say my quaint low-stress non-profit job is not exactly bringing in the big bucks — but still, we share everything equally. 

And if those with more always bear the financial responsibility, there have been times at my  job that I have had more in the bank then my organization — should I be paying them my salary? And is it the case that whatever the rule is it applies to every relationship across time and space or was it ok that Blake and Sandy may be treating us different than their other friends?

2. If I spend on X it doesn’t mean I won’t be able to get the Y I want/need… Alright Dear Reader, here I am going to exercise my ‘later addition author’s prerogative’ and add a bit more details. This is because though I want these stories to reflect my natural progress, I also want this blog to be clear and helpful. So, originally, as far as I got on this topic was that money is not necessarily black and white, I could spend some on X and some on Y. Or I could spend on X and still have enough for Y later. I had a bunch of scratched-out diagrams in my notebook,  not terribly clear.

Fast forward to a meal I was having with a friend the other night. I order first and ask for french fries. My friend, who loves fires, orders after me and she does not order fries. In my head I’m already thinking, “Crap. Why didn’t she just get her own fries, now she is going to eat all of mine.” Food arrives and sure enough my friend and I both start hoovering down the fries. But then, we both get full, and in the end there are a few fries left in the basket.  I immediately  saw my wrong view because a resource is finite it means I won’t have enough. But the truth is, I really can’t know my future wants/needs (even in the course of one meal). Moreover, I can’t know my future resources. I didn’t know how many fries would actually come in an order, just like I couldn’t have known how much cash I would have in the bank when it came time to pay for all the imaginary wants/needs that I perceived myself to be trading off in order to buy stuff for Blake and Sandy.

3. That money is equivalent to safety and security.  Clearly this is not true, rich folks die, get diseases, get into accidents, have pain and loss everyday. Money does not protect them. In fact, there may be times where money makes one more vulnerable, like being a target of theft. Additionally, friends are sometimes a source of safety and security — so can I know in any instance whether money or friends, neither or both are going to help me (too many variables for a magic 8 ball to help answer)?

4. That there is a single activity or behavior which will indicate someone is taking advantage. These friends, actually did a lot for Eric and I. Even though they didn’t split bills, they took care of our home when we were away, helped us run errands, taught us lots of new skills and fun tricks, they were emotionally supportive and could be a lot of fun to hang-out with.Can any one activity and behavior demonstrate if they really cared for us or were they just using us (are these even either/or things or could it be both/neither)? Can I know what’s in someone else’s heart driving them? If not, why did I zoom in on one thing–mooching–and use that to judge their intention rather than picking another activity like time spent with us as the indicator of what was in their hearts?

At around this time, I had been contemplating Rupa (without much clarity or success to be honest so the explanation here has been colored by some more recent contemplations). Rupa is a fancy word for the tangible form that exists out in the world (including our bodies), versus all the stuff going on in our heads. This form, Rupa, on its own, is neutral, something that is just composed of the elements that make-up the physical world. The problem however is when our wrong-view ridden minds sense it, it really gets our imagination running. This Rupa, which in this story is money (dolla dolla bills yo), acts like a trigger for the problems that arise. It’s sort of a base, a foundation for the whole drama –after all, if there were no money in this story there would be no story at all. 

Ultimately, the way I see Rupa, and the belief I can own it and control it is a major source of daily suffering. Starting to see this, and the mechanics of how the outside physical world interacts with my mind was a starting point for seeing the way this whole kit-and-kaboodle of myself and my beliefs arises. But those details are an entry for much much later… (shameless pitch to get you to keep on reading 😉 ) For now, lets just say..what a bunch of noise, for me, my husband, my friends, all based on the all mighty dollar.  

 

The Problem Statement

The Problem Statement

So I will start by admitting that this short entry is  less of a story or a contemplation and more of a moment —  a brief flash of awareness. It must have been mid 2012. I was at the farmers market with some friends and the day was beautiful, perfect even. I was standing, with a delicious coffee in hand, looking out at a sparkling blue ocean and it hit me. The problem statement. My problem:

  1. I don’t really believe that my suffering in this world is greater than my enjoyment — this moment, this place, these folks,  are soo very enjoyable
  2. I don’t really think this, this day, this wonderful situation, the warmth, the love from my friends, the sense of belonging and contentment will end. I don’t believe it’s impermanent

By this point I had been practicing dharma a few years, so I knew the drill. Suffering, impermanence, rinse, repeat. But as I stood on that sunny day, surrounded by things I found so pleasurable and enticing and  it dawned on me —  I don’t believe. Not really, not in my heart. That is my problem. 

When I got home that day, I wrote the problem statement on the back cover of my notebook. Not much more I could do in the moment — I  can’t force myself to believe. On some level of course, I had to have had an inkling of how suffering and impermanence were woven into this world –why else walk a path with the ultimate goal of escaping? So, I kept practicing.  I keep gathering evidence, constantly, vigilantly  and slowly but surely I am becoming a believer.

This small story was a big moment; it was when I saw the problem in my own heart, in my own life (instead of it just being what I was told). Over the years, I have turned back to the notebook cover. In fact, when I changed notebooks (3 X already), I tore off the cover and put it in the new one. I use it to remind myself of the problem,  to test my assumptions and to gauge my progress. To check  in my heart how things have changed. Clearly, this blog is about the path to change, the path to believing. Truly seeing the problem, even if it was just a glimpse, a flash, was a pivot point. Its when I started understanding some of the deepest wrong views I am working towards correcting.

Watching Plants Grow May Not Be as Boring as it Sounds

Watching Plants Grow May Not Be as Boring as it Sounds

I would like to preface this blog by telling you upfront, you have heard it all before.  It is on a theme you may have noticed already —  Ideal/ Good Alana versus Normal/Bad Alana. You can see it in the prelude to this blog (Super Buddhist versus Everyday Alana), in the Homeless Alana story, In the Compassionate Alana story, spoiler alert : in an upcoming blog about mooching friends and in the last blog of this section about fearing my practice progressing.  I am not so clever … it has taken me 6 years to truly see how deeply this wrong view, and its close cousins — Good Alana versus Bad Other Peeps and Bad Alana Versus Way Holier than Me Peeps — runs.

It has caused so much havoc in my life, just read the stories, they speak for themselves. It’s a real danger because, among other things, it builds my ego; Good Alana is a judgey, entitled, thankless, witch, but even Bad Alana is egotistical (little heart variety), she thinks she is soooo exceptional (after all, she is the worst of the worst… so unworthy of enlightenment she barricades her own path).  It’s a hindrance to my practice, to my relationships, to my sense of wellbeing. The weird thing is, this duality that underpins my views, this belief that I can separate one side from another in neat bundles and still retain the whole …it’s not even possible. You know how I know that ? I spent time staring at a potted plant. Yup, there is wisdom to be found in the most unlikely places; all around us in fact. One of the reasons I am sharing this particular story is to highlight another one of my superduper all time favorite dharma techniques…cue ooohhh ahh soundtrack flash a few lights…

Ubaitam

An Ubaitam is essentially an external stimulant that helps us apply the truths we see out in the world to ourselves. It is a tool for internalizing ( which we will talk about even more in a future blog), for drawing parallels that show us the way in which we, just like everything else, are subject to the basic conditions that govern this world (they aren’t called the 3 common characteristics for nothing). The belief that we are so special, so exceptional, is the source of many of our wrong views; actually, thinking we are so special is a major foundation for our entire wrong view of self. Ubaitam can be  really really  helpful to show how all of us are like plants (which have two sides), and cell phones (which break), and umbrellas (which decay).

The Story: We had a group of nuns visit the temple and I was speaking to one (Mae Toy) about my difficulty accepting my faults. When I was a Bad Alana, someone who made mistakes at work, lost my patience with my family, even just skipped the gym for a day, I would feel guilty for weeks. Really, I would think over and over again about my shortcomings, about my failures, about how far I was from being the ideal Alana I wanted to be. This was not a productive assessment of my mistakes and a consideration of how to avoid them in the future. This was just rolling around in my self-hate.  

The Nun went to a table and picked-up a potted plant and asked me what I saw. I went on and on about how green and lush the plant was. About its beauty and the beauty it offered to its surrounding. When I was done she pointed out that I had forgotten some stuff. The plant sat in, was in fact nourished by, dirt. Almost half the plant, with its root structure, sits in darkness and dirt below the base of the pot. Just like us humans, just like everything in the world, the plant has two sides. There is the lush green part but there is also the dirty roots –you can’t have one without the other. Anything less is not a plant.

This was my first mini understanding, tiny glimmer, that my flaws, my shortcomings and all my mistakes are part of who I am. In fact, many of the same causes of attributes which I consider virtuous in some situations, end up manifesting as faults in other situations. Deeper still, who is judging which Alana, Good or Bad, is playing the starring role in any given situation (if I am being a ‘considerate Alana’ and letting the car in front of me enter a lane, the car behind me may think I am slowing them down) ?

Bad Alana exists as part of the same package as Good Alana –they don’t come apart (actually, the whole package is a continuously changing bundle anyway, not static good or static bad).  There really are two sides to every coin — it’s never just heads or just tails — I  however get so distracted by what I am focusing on (green leaves), I forget about the other side (the dirt).

For years, actually, for all my lives,  I have been in denial about the basic nature of this world, with its two sidedness and about my own nature as a being that is in and part of this world. With this story, I got the first tiny shards of awareness (it was super early in my practice, 2011 maybe), the first bit of evidence that I am not really special at all, that I can compare myself to the things around me to give me the perspective I need to fix my wrong views and lower my ego. 

The awesome thing is, years later, this Ubaitam keeps giving. Each time (and clearly there are many many many times) that I begin to sense the Good/Bad duality wrong view is lurking, I imagine the plant. The image, it’s like a shortcut, some quick reference that can keep me focused, can help recall the contemplations I have had on the plant theme, i.e. two-sidedness, over time.

I love, love, love, Ubaitam. You will see them all over my practice because for me they are like video game powerups, or  like finding a secret warp to a new level. They are shortcuts to big understanding. So Dear Reader…can you spot all the Ubaitam so far 😉 ?

Compassionate Alana — Like a Better Dressed Mother Teresa

Compassionate Alana — Like a Better Dressed Mother Teresa

I show-up at the Wat one day and LP Anan tells me that he and Mae Yo were talking about me the night before (uh-oh). They noticed that I have a problem (double uh-oh), my driving need to be compassionate (wha wha what how can this be a problem? Snap triple uh-oh), and I should go and solve it (easy as pie right?). So, in sum, my assignment was to notice the way that being a ‘compassionate’ person feeds into many of my stories, my life, and determine the wrong views that drive it and the harm it causes. Here is the contemplation that followed:

Back when I practiced Tibetan Buddhism, I had a favorite deity, Green Tara. Her main characteristic is that, out of compassion, she swiftly helps eliminate the fear of suffering beings. Without getting into a theology class here, you should know that  in Tibetan Buddhism, one of the main points of practice is to embody the qualities and characteristics of the deities you ‘practice’ (i.e. visualize and say mantras about). Upon consideration, it told me a whole lot that, out of all the Tibetan deities (and there are lots), the one I identified with, the one I wanted to ‘become’, was the compassionate fear remover, Green Tara.

I noticed straight off that one of my meta-themes is the idea that there is fearful alana and compassionate alana and the 2 exist at odds with one another (this can be seen in homeless alana story, blog 1). In the ideal world in my head, where I’m not crippled by self-absorbed fear, I am like Tara — my compassion side wins against my fear side and, by definition, my compassion side goes out and acts  to help other people remove their fear (let’s call this self-absorbed ‘compassion’).

Reality check — the ‘ideal world in my head’ is more like a fun house with all those crazy mirrors that warp images. Of course, in this fun house world, compassion goes out and force feeds everyone else my own medicine — no more fear. Since I’m afraid, everyone else must be too so I should go out and solve it (self-important much?).  So what does ‘solving it’ actually look like? What do I do? Mostly, I use the ‘golden rule’ to do to others exactly what I want done to me. So with my friend Sue, since I would want to lose weight, Compassion=a grocery bag full of crunchy compassionate kale. For Shack, the homeless guy, I would want someone to give me a hug so compassion is hugs for the homeless.

Bigger picture, I had a very rigid set of ethics that were informed by my ‘instinct’, i.e.,  I used my superpowers (goddess-like even) to determine what was right and wrong in every situation. As a note, the  wrong view here was exactly the same as with fear –that if I believe something it must be true (with fear it was the belief in the scary things that would happen, with compassion, it was the belief that what I felt was right must be right).

So this begs an interesting question –Why in the heck do I do all of this? I started thinking about my childhood (I now know  that tendencies like this run for many lives, but a single life can provide information, a snapshot, to work with). I’m the oldest of 2 kids. I realize that when it was just me things were going pretty well, then my brother, Seth,  was born and suddenly I have competition for my parent’s attention and love. Seth turned out to be an adorable, charming little devil and I didn’t really stand a chance against him. Except for that he was always causing trouble, being naughty and occasionally shooting pellets at small lizards and snakes. That was it — I could be  more ethical, more compassionate than him –I would save all the lizards, that would get me loved.

In addition, when I was a kid my Mom was sick with chronic illness. She spent a lot of time in bed and we had a number of other caregivers who would come and help-out. It made me feel vulnerable, I never knew exactly what each person wanted, how to please them and avoid punishment, so I was always trying to intuit what was good and bad behavior. I wanted rules and structure, a clear delineation of right and wrong, and I depended on my instincts to help me build them.

Here is the problem though (more wrong views), Can I really be a person with absolute value? Can I be GOOD? Can my value be determined by my behaviors (saving lizards)? By a set of rules that as long as I follow strictly, will make me valuable and therefore safe? Can I be universally worthy of love under any conditions? Can my value in other people’s eyes be based on my definition of  valuable (what if they hate lizards?)? Even if it could, are love and protection constant, based on my value; can I predict when I’ll get them and when I will lose them?

This last question really struck me and I started thinking again about my time practicing Vajrayana. Back then, I had promised my teacher that I wouldn’t quit, I had offered to come and be her student more seriously, to begin to help carry on the traditions of our linage. But then, I turned away from Vajrayana and I couldn’t fulfill my intentions, my promises. I was so afraid to tell her when I had started going to Wat SF. In my own mind, I thought my actions were a betrayal, that I was a promise breaker unworthy of her continued love and support. But when I told her what I had found at the Wat, she was happy for me. She supported me. This was the exact opposite of what I expected –in my mind, which was the real arbitrator of my sense of self value, I was worthless, a disappointment, so how could someone I loved and respected still love and support me? It really started to hit home that the way I saw my value, all wrapped-up in a very fixed set of proscribed actions, and the consequences of having or losing it just wasn’t true. It’s not how the world worked. It wasn’t how things worked with my old teacher at least…

I started considering the dangers of all this craziness and it dawned on me just how difficult and painful it was making my life, just how pained I constantly felt. In my relationship with others, I was constantly thinking I knew what they wanted/needed and was “helping” them accordingly (I’m sure Sue felt deeply helped by all that kale). Also, a natural extension of ‘instinctively’ knowing right and wrong was just how judgey I was —  just that morning I was on the bus giving the death stare (but a compassionate one 😉 ) to a woman taking-up 4 seats. Evil witch broke my moral code…but then, I don’t know her life, her story, her circumstances and besides, can I say I have never taken-up multiple bus seats myself? Can I say everyone needs to follow Alana’s Bus Etiquette (there is much much more on this topic to come)?   In my relationship with myself, I felt constantly inadequate, I derived my value based on a proscribed set of actions /ideals that I could never meet since I change, circumstances change, everything changes… And finally, I was living in fear of my own high and mighty moral code. Afraid that if I deviated from it, if I let go of being ‘ compassionate’, I would lose my way, err horribly, do unforgivable things and never become a person worthy of my own (and other’s) love and protection. Believe me when I say the road to hell, or at least endless rebirth, can  really be paved with good intentions and deeply wrong views.

Tree Pose and a Decision Tree

Tree Pose and a Decision Tree

Impermanence is the meat and potatoes of my practice. Though over the years my thinking (and this blog, which will soon follow that thinking) evolved to consider many more Dharma topics (self and self belonging, suffering, aggregates, karma, etc.), I always come ‘home’ to impermanence. It’s my staple food for thought. It is my constant companion. It is the Dharma, my great refuge.  So here I want to offer you, Dear Reader, one more simple tool that I consider a straightforward, ‘pure play’, impermanence thinking technique:

The Decision Tree

Like the Matrix, the Decision Tree provides a structured approach to seeing multiple possibilities for a given situation. Unlike the Matrix however, it is not strictly binary so it allows me to think through more possible factors/outcomes at once. It lets thoughts grow, branch-out, explore many possible futures/outcomes; ultimately, it helps to understand the TRUTH of this world —  the outcomes I hope for/worry about/believe will happen are really  just one single solitary leaf on a tree filled with leafy possibilities.

Story:

I was in pain. Daily. I would wake-up and my lower back would ache, moving around relieved it, but anytime I had to sit for an extended period, back it would come. Per my physical therapist, the cause was a destabilized joint in my lower back and/or a tear in my hip;  incidentally, both  common injuries amongst dancers and yoga folks and the like. Her recommendation, lay-off my 6X a week 2 hour a day intensive yoga practice and give myself time to heal.

For a saner, less stubborn, less worry warty, less vain person, the story may have ended right here. But for cray cray Alana, much to the benefit of this blog, there is of course more…  

I was so attached to my practice, to the way it defined me and the results I believed it had (my ideal ‘dancer’s body’) I just couldn’t lay-off. So in and out, in and out, in and out of the physical therapist’s office I went.  I honestly thought: if I quit doing yoga I won’t stay physically active (which is ironic since before I did yoga I used to body build). I will get lazy, inflexible and fat. I will lose the ability and the figure I had worked so hard to build. If all that happens I’ll be miserable. I  realized I had a great deal of certainty that I had built up around the idea of quitting yoga so  I decided to analyze if I could really be so sure that the outcomes I imagined would come true.


Enter the decision tree –which is a link here since I can’t seem to get a flowchart into the blog: Click on Me 


For me, my mind has a tendency to leap from imagined A to imagined Z super quick (just like from hugs to the homeless to swine flu death, or mole to cancer, or not being invited out to not having a true friend). So, a tool, like a tree, that helps me imagine some of the many other possible outcomes softens my sense of ‘for sureness’, my sense of permanence. Just so you know…I don’t actually always go around drawing a tree…but you may notice just from reading this blog, my mind works this way naturally, the serious of questions/reality checks I often ask myself show tree-like echos throughout my stories (just look at the prelude to this blog for a very recent example). The truth is, for this story, the tree did soften me-up a bit. Ultimately though, it was the pain, the suffering and consequences, that got me to take a break and give my body a chance to heal.

Tracing the benefits of a yoga practice got me to start and continue doing it,  but using the same thought process to see the harm got me to quit. Of course, it’s worth noting that my desire for the benefits of a yoga practice (strong, fit, flexible, dancer bod) remained so I simply replace yoga with other activities that I thought would help me achieve that aim with less pain…the deeper questions of can I control my body, can it stay strong or fit or a particular shape forever, are those things I preference really more valuable?  Can they make me loved? Cared for? Safe? Safe from what exactly? Is it worth the effort? What is the middle ground? Those are questions for later in my practice, questions I still face right now. Questions that maybe will motivate you to stay tuned…

Wanna Play a Game? Its Called Gathering Evidence

Wanna Play a Game? Its Called Gathering Evidence

It was one of my early retreats, 2012 perhaps, and Mae Yo started playing a game some of you ‘old timers’ might know: How are those birds related? The set-up is simple; imagine you look up and see 2 birds flying in the sky. Explain how they are related.

I heard this and I thought, “this is sorta idiotic”. I mean who cares how the birds are related? Sure, sure I know the punch-line before we even start the game (because if you hangout with KPYers for a bit you’ll catch-on that it’s always about impermanence and/or suffering); the relationship between the birds is impermanent, which in this case means it is not just what we initially think, but some huge number of possibilities. But this isn’t a real-life situation. No one would play a game this simple. What’s the point? Isn’t there some ‘real Dharma’ we can be learning? Still, like a good student, I played:

Folks start calling-out how  the birds might be related and a list goes up on the board:

  • The birds can be lovers/spouses
  • The birds can be a parent and child
  • The birds can be friends
  • The birds can be enemies
  • The birds can be travel companions
  • One bird could be teaching the other bird
  • One bird could be hunting the other bird
  • The birds could be leader/follower
  • The birds could be siblings
  • The birds could be be strangers going in the same direction
  • The birds may have no relationship at all, we just see them for a single moment flying in one space

The list went on…The conclusion was just what I thought it was at the start of the game. Our assumptions about this world are based on one view, one belief, one perspective –ours. Reality is there are many possibilities, many perspectives. I get it already…moving on to the next big idea…

But once I went home from that retreat, I noticed that I had started playing games like this in my head  when I had a few minutes to myself. I would look out at situations in the world, the way two people interacted, the meaning of words in a language I couldn’t understand, the possible outcomes for a game or an interaction and I would start listing –what could it be? I watched, I gathered evidence, I noted when I guessed correctly and when incorrectly (when that information was available). I played. I let my mind imagine and I checked myself.

One day I get a letter in the mail slot of my house, flip-it over and see it was addressed to someone else. In that instant I  realized something had changed in my heart  because I noticed I wasn’t surprised* to be getting a letter for a stranger. Sure, sometimes I get letters for other folks, its a normal everyday event, but it always surprised me a little bit. After all, I expected that the letters in my mailbox were for me, when they weren’t it was surprising — an exception to the rule. The rule is permanent, the exception is a corner case, not something I need to worry about, not proof that my basic assumption about letters in boxes is wrong…But all that practice, all that play, it had helped me start seeing possibilities. I had begun, in small everyday ways, to train my mind to see the impermanence that is always there, to not just write-off the corner cases, to not ignore the evidence. This was the first time I really recognized that my Dharma practice wasn’t just solving my big problems, it was reshaping my habits of thinking, my expectations about how everyday stuff happens in the world.

This story may seem small, may seem trivial. After all,  where is the suffering of thinking 2 birds always relate in one way? What’s the suffering of thinking letters in my mailbox are for me?  But imagine a similar situation — I see my husband at a cafe with another woman  (2 birds) and I believe it can only mean one thing (lovers), what’s the suffering in that? If I believe that an invitation to a friends’ outing should be coming to me only to find it addressed to someone else, where is the suffering in that? If I believe every mole is cancer? Every dentist appointment will hurt? Every fat person will die young, where is the suffering there?

The thing about impermanence is we all already know it’s real; we know the conclusion before we even start the game. I sure thought I did — Yah, yah, old  punchline, yipee, moving on… But, knowing abstractly and really believing in my heart are two different things. Believing only comes from my gathering the evidence, training to look for it, making note of when I am right and wrong. If I really already knew impermanence ruled this world, it would be game over, I would have no fear, no surprise, no disappointment, I would be enlightened already.

I offer you, Dear Reader, this story so you know my practice isn’t all heavy doomy and gloomy all the time. Sometime I just play, I let my natural curiosity guide me, I re-explore the world I think I know so well, I note when things are not the way I thought. I use the technique I will call “Gathering Evidence” — making mental (and sometimes written) note of  the many possibilities that exist in the world, the huge number of possible futures, possible meanings, possible perspectives —  so I can learn to believe in impermanence, not just ‘yah yah’ it and move on. And when I have a real problem, when life gets heavy, I can  turn back to the technique of gathering evidence, which I have been practicing all along, to show myself how so many times this world isn’t really how I imagine it to be/ will be at all. 


A note about being surprised: Just like anger or fear or annoyance, surprise is one of those warning lights we have a wrong view of permanence. We are surprised because we believe we already know what will happen, what is normal, what the rule is. When something else happens, something other than our expectation we are surprised. If we deeply understood anything can happen, that the world operates by its own laws (karma and impermanence) not by our expectations, we would not have any surprise in our hearts. 

The Matrix — Method Not Movie

The Matrix — Method Not Movie

Another Prelude to Introduce A Super Duper Important Buddhist Concept — Two-Sidedness:

This next 2 section will have lots of entries on two sidedness so this seems as good a time as any to offer an introduction to one of the most fundamental ideas in Buddhism — Everything, everything, EVERYTHING, has 2 sides. 2 sidedness is a feature of impermanence. What exactly does that mean? Actually, it means lost of things. A few simple ones:

  • The things that we enjoy come with suffering and the things we hate also have good parts. Example: I love buying fresh flowers, until a few days later when I feel sad to throw them away…
  • Everything that benefits us also has a cost. Example: I buy that dress, it looks great on, but I’m afraid I’ll stain it every time I put it on. The dress costs me money and worry.
  • Opposites come together,  they define each other.  If everyone were the same height would there be short and tall?

There are even more ways to think about 2-sidedness and there will be future blogs on the topic. Here though I want to talk about using 2-sidedness to combat a super sneaky and troublesome wrong view — seeing things only from one side, our own. So today’s aspect of  2-sidedness:  

  • Any time I have a conflict (i.e. suffering), either in my heart or out in the real world,  there are 2 sides to the story. I however am only seeing the one I am used to, that I already believe, that benefits me, that belongs to me –I have a permanent view that  my side is right, in fact, I often can’t even see an alternative (I call that super permanent).  That whole other side out there is a blind spot.

I like to think of blind spots as bright, flashing danger lights on my dashboard. And how do I fix danger lights? With a tool of course!! Enter:

The Matrix

The Story: I had a coworker, we’ll call her Barb, who I was just beginning to become friends with; we had started having lunch together, riding the bus together and hanging-out after work sometimes. I really liked Barb, I wanted to be her friend and I though she felt the same way too, until…

It was after a huge work event, Barb and I had spent months planning the thing and it was a success. A few of the folks from the office were helping to clean-up and Barb, who had been talking to another co-worked, Rina, while cleaning, asked Rina if she wanted to go hang-out after the cleanup was done. I was standing right there but no one invited me. I was crushed. My heart hurt so bad as Rina and Barb walked away.

I went home sulking thinking Barb wasn’t really my friend, I had misread all the signs…after all, if it had been me who had invited-out Rina, I would have invited Barb to come along.  Real friends just don’t leave their friends out like that (this is my side, the belief I already have, what I am used to). Then as I lay awake in bed, too upset to sleep, I thought, “wait”, “is it really true that Barb not inviting me means she isn’t my friend?  Is it true that real friends invite each other to every single gathering? Is it possible there are factors besides our friendship at play here?”

The Matrix: So the matrix is really just a series of 4 squares that cover all the logical conclusions of a problem statement: If X then Y, If X then not Y, If not X then Y, If not X then not Y. Then, it uses examples, evidence from real life to show us that really, any one of the possibilities can be true. Us clinging to the squares we believe, just because we haven’t stacked sufficient evidence in the other squares isn’t reasonable — it is a wrong view. Let’s work it for the Barb Story:

Problem Statement: On some level, I think Barb not inviting me out means she isn’t a real friend…  So let’s use the statement — Real friends always invite their friends out.

Real Friends Invite Their Friends Out:

I already believed this one was the truth.I based this off my experiences, my gut reaction that it’s what I always do. When around multiple friends, I include everyone in my plans. I wouldn’t just leave people out. No more evidence needs to be stacked here since it’s my starting belief.

Real Friends Don’t Invite Friends Out

 When I think a friend is sick,  tired, broke, has other plans, etc. I don’t always invite them out; I don’t want to put them on the spot. In this case, I had to admit, Barb knew how late I had stayed-up the night before the event.
—  I don’t always invite Eric, my husband and best friend out when I want to have girl-time, or talk privately.  Again, thinking a little more… Barb had mentioned she wanted to talk to Rina about a project that didn’t involve me.
— Sometimes as much as I love my friend Sandy, I need a break. Barb and I had been together non stop planning the event
Already, it was clear I don’t even follow my own rule of “always inviting out friends”

‘Fake’ Friends Invite Their Friends Out

I had a ‘friend’ back in college who invited me out only when they needed me to drive or pay the bill.
—  I have invited ‘friends’ out just so I didn’t need to go out alone when I wanted to go dancing.

–I have had ‘friends’ that would invite me out just to make fun of me, or make themselves look good next to me since I was less attractive, popular, stylish.
Clearly, it doesn’t require someone to be my friend in order for them to invite me out.

‘Fake’ Friends Don’t  Invite Friends Out

Again, I believed this one and didn’t need evidence, it’s just the opposite of what I already believed: friendship = invite so no friendship also = no invite.

 

When I really thought it through, I was upset for nothing. I was upset because I believed one possibility, one side, was true and didn’t leave room for the other side in my heart. I didn’t even see it. But evidence from my own life tells me that there are many possible situations in which Barb may not invite me out and it does not necessarily mean she doesn’t think of me as a friend.

If I had just stayed upset I would have been sad myself and may well have put my relationship with Barb, as well as my other co-worker, in danger. Barb and I actually became  very close friends over the years.  Since this incident there have been many times she has invited me out and many when she has not. She has mostly behaved like a good friend and sometimes like a bad one too. We have both grown and learned a great deal from each other though and I am so so happy I did not let this early-on incident stand in the way of our friendship.

As for the Matrix, it’s a simple tool that can help focus my mind on the ‘other side’. I will admit, that for complex problems, it may not be my starting place as it can be a bit too simple. But it does, ultimately represent the TRUTH —  the matrix is the logical conclusion of a correct view (check-out Killing the Crazy to see how I got to a “matrix model”  on the relationship between what I fear and what actually happens using the evidence). So why not try drawing one out every once in awhile…

 

Odds and Ends, Tools and Techniques, Impermanence and Suffering

Odds and Ends, Tools and Techniques, Impermanence and Suffering

In this next section I’ll share a few more stories from the “early days”(up till around June 2013). Some of these precede the Killing the Crazy story, but cover topics aside from paranoia, many are from the months shortly following that story (which occurred late 2012 or early 2013). The main point here is that as my anxiety levels began to diminish, I was able to ‘work the program’ and consider a broader array of topics through the lenses of impermanence and suffering.   These stories are still mostly born from contemplation on obvious problems, pains and slights — I like to think of them as using Dharma to triage a situation. They continued to build my understanding of control, impermanence and, to a lesser degree, suffering.

In this section I will also try to introduce a few additional tools and techniques that have served me well over the course of my practice. Though this is by no means everything, you will see many of these particular techniques repeated frequently in my stories; here I will try to highlight them and describe them a bit so that as we proceed you will have a sense of some of the tools I have used to learn to guide and structure my thinking.

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