Eric and I had recently watched the Wonder Woman movie. I mentioned to him how much I liked the film, how much I got out of it: The idea that getting what we desire has 2 sides. That once we know the truth of the cost of our decisions, we can make better decisions.

In reply, Eric poked fun of me, he asked why it was that a hit-you-over the head morality tale, like Wonder Woman, was something I could both enjoy and also learn from, but when it came to dharma tales, a teaching, sermon, or jataka I so easily get super serious, prickly even, worried I am either being forced or being judged.

I realized, when I watch some Hollywood drama, I don’t think it is about me. But when something seems Buddhisty, because of the identity I have built of wanting to be a good Buddhist, my radar is instantly up — is this a story that judges me? Is this a story that indicts me? Does this story make me feel forced to act or be a certain way?

These Buddhist stories, the ones I see as an implicit yardstick of my worthiness, are stories I am leery of. And of all the Buddhist stories that make me feel most judged, most lacking, the one that has long stood out as the biggest indictment of my dharma deficiencies, is the Mūgapakkha Jātaka (the story is linked here, if you don’t know it, it’s a must read to follow this post).

Of course, over time, I came to understand this same disease/delusion –that a topic/truth of the world is about me/a personal indictment – lay at the core of my deep discomfort addressing the topic of karma, and my continual sense it was a ‘black box’; it was something I was afraid to look too closely at. This insight however came later, first, a message to Mae Neecha with some thoughts on my least favorite Jataka, and what it doesn’t actually mean about me…

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AD: As a follow-up to some of our recent conversations, I have some thoughts I want to share. It is not about karma though, it is about my persistent belief that I am not good enough/that other people’s greatness is an indictment of my own innate failings. Here are some thoughts about Mūgapakkha Jātaka — long-time winner of my ‘most loathed jataka award’ because I thought it spoke to my inability to be sufficiently-self-sacraficey to become enlightened (naturally the jatakas are about me 😉 ). But, a little background first…

Eric and I rented a place in the country, we figured long term we could use it for weekends/holidays, and for now, while we work from home, we can use it more  frequently because there is a huge, loud, construction project going on across the street from our Greenwich place. It took us months of looking and stress to find, because Connecticut real estate is super hot right now. We had it less than a month –we hadn’t even moved in yet — and the problems started piling-up.

Long and short of it, there were massive repairs to be made and the landlords were essentially slum lords and didn’t want to deal with anything. Plus, the reality of trying to move during a pandemic — when we are being so careful, and other folks’ precautions are basically a crap-shoot, came to dawn on us; how were we going to direct movers over Zoom? Ultimately the landlords decided they wanted “lower maintenance tenets” (i.e folks not familiar with Connecticut tenant rights laws) and we all agreed to nullify the lease. But, before that, there were plenty of contemplations about suffering!

The suffering that arises from my relationship to all rupa when I want it to be one way and it keeps on being another. The suffering that arises when I claim rupa, try to make it mine, try to use it both for my comfort and to reflect my personal style/identity. The suffering that arises because of the difference between what I imagine and reality. How my imagination blinds me, puts blinders on me, so I only see one side…

Anyway, about a week later, I was taking a Zoom Zumba class and the construction across the street was so loud I couldn’t hear the music to follow. I was annoyed and then I realized that in the past, in this same situation, my mind had immediately flown to finding a country rental. This time I thought about the fact that it was easier to just endure it than to go through the rigmarole of trying to find a new place right now.  Literally, right then, with my feet moving to the Latin grooves, I realized I had seriously misunderstood the Mūgapakkha Jātaka: I saw endurance/fortitude isn’t really about having some saintly quality, it is about realizing sucking-it-up in a sucky situation beats the likely stress of the alternative.

After our conversation the other night I started thinking about this more, because, perhaps more than any other story, this jataka has been a symbol of my total inadequacy. I have always felt, deep down, that to be a ‘good’ practitioner (or ‘good daughter’, ‘good person’ and so many other goods) I had to sacrifice. I had to do things that hurt, that I didn’t really want to do. I had to hug homeless people even if I was scared, even if there was a real danger. I had to go on vacation with my mother, even if I could guess it would be totally unpleasant, I had to suck up and deal with her abuse. I had to go to the temple even if it felt too loud and crowded, even if I felt culturally out of place and fake, even if hours of dharma talks about new topics/ techniques left me feeling overwhelmed and unconnected to my practice.

In fact, on some level, I have only valued doing things if I don’t want to do them, if I did them anyway out of a sense of the virtue of self-sacrifice. (Eric has long chided me that I keep trying to find ways to do stuff I don’t enjoy versus assessing, and if appropriate changing, the views that make me not enjoy things.) Being a good daughter to my dad didn’t count because I loved him so much. Being a good sister to my brother used to count, but then (largely based on my suck-it-up efforts) our relationship became close, so it doesn’t count anymore. It’s not just my sibling relationship either, all sorts of stuff that I used to not like to do, that I thought of as ‘do-gooder-saintly-virtuous’, like chanting (which I have started doing a little of each day, for my own reasons), I suddenly start to discount because I start finding them relaxing/ pleasant/informative.

All the things I like to do/do naturally or out of a sense of self preservation don’t count. This is why recording my practice, or practicing continuously to solve life problems, or contemplating just because I like mental stimulation/figuring stuff out and find it relaxing, doesn’t count. This is stuff I do for me, based on my own tendencies/desire/gains.

Ironically of course, by my own definition, I will never ever be good enough; as soon as what I don’t like becomes likable I need to find new virtuous seeming things I don’t like to do. In fact, since by its nature the process of practice fixes wrong views so that I suffer less, it continually diminishes the things I need to self-sacrifice for.  By my paradigm, practice deprives me of ways to prove my goddess, with enlightenment — the cessation of all suffering — being the total nullification of opportunities to be good. When taken to its ultimate conclusion, my paradigm clearly shows itself to be nonsense.  But..that is a contemplation for another time. For now, since we now know this Jtaka is not an indictment of Alana’s inadequacies, I would like to consider what it is actually about:

It is a story of someone that, based on their own experiences, based on reasoning, and thinking ahead just a little bit, sees the likely perils of a situation in front of them (the consequences of executing kingly duties in the Bodhisattva’s case) and — out of self preservation/ the desire to avoid more pain and stress — does what it takes to avoid them.  Even if avoidance involves foregoing some pleasant stuff and enduring some difficult stuff.

Crazy Thought: It almost seems like the Buddha was trying to teach folks, like me, how to avoid our own suffering.

When I get over the idea that this jataka is just an indictment of all the forbearance (khanti) I lack, I can find countless stories of my own when I have forgone stuff I enjoy, and endured stuff I don’t, in order to mitigate future risks. We were flat broke when Eric and I got our first jobs; it involved forgoing lots of enjoyment, but we prioritized maxing out our IRAs. It was a super tough conversation with my parents when I needed to go on birth control, but it was a hell of a lot better than teenage pregnancy. Actually, I am someone that prides themselves on planning ahead, granted it can be too much sometimes, but you can be sure we didn’t have a pandemic toilet paper shortage in my house.

I am not saying I have the forbearance of Temiya, I like treats and avoid fires. I also am not saying this story isn’t too over-the-top-tourmenty-finger-wagging for me.  I also know better than thinking this particular issue is solved, it is so deep for me. But I do see that this is just like me thinking my fit body proves fitness = extreme will power, rather than understanding my (temporarily) fit body only proves my belief that extreme willpower is valuable and that I can prove it with a fit body. My views are so ingrained they blind me, and this particular view about/ self-sacrifice/ goodness/ inadequacy is not just blinding it is shatteringly painful for me, over and over and over again . Anyway, meltdown 2.0 averted. Stay tuned for the sequel. And thank you again!

MN: Sent a sticker and replied: The more we practice, the more we eliminate the “bad” in us and do more “good”… but at the same time, we are eliminating that “good” as well, because good or bad all create consequences and tie us to this world. But the buddha taught us to eliminate evil first, then eliminate good, so you’ll still be a good alana for some time. until you reach ultimate enlightenment.

AD: Maybe so, but my problem is I’m not really a good alana — I’m just trying to be good, by alana’s definition, in order to be a special alana, worthy of cookies and avoiding whammies ;), hoping that sort of thing acts according to my rules versus the world’s.

It’s a work in progress, but I really am starting to see my blind spots more clearly and to be suspect of the alana version of truth and reality check it against the Dhamma version of Truth. The one thing I can confidently say that alana’s wacko paradigm and the actual truth of the world have in common is that I can’t game either. I can’t win. I can’t be satisfied. That is pretty strong motivation to find an exit.