I was at the hot springs and there was this woman there who was so obese. I tried to internalize what it would be like to be so fat, but my heart refused to accept it. The contemplation was shallow, going through the motions, but feeling nothing. I realized the reason why: I don’t believe I can ever be that fat — I am different, I work-out and mind my diet, that won’t happen to me. But the truth is, compared to a few years ago, I am super out of shape. Weakness and pudge that was unfathomable to me just a few years back was my ‘today body’. Sure there was some laziness, depression from the move, but there was also aging — its not nearly as easy to stay fit and thin as it used to be. So how can I say I am so special, so sure that I am protected for obesity ever happening to me?

 I am always putting distance between myself and the things I don’t want to have happen. Fatness, illness, poverty, death, loss, failure — these things are not me/mine. As soon as I see tragedy or suffering my mind leaps into action, creating a ‘shield of special’, to justify why bad things that are so obviously plaguing others, simply can’t/won’t happen to me. Clearly, it is a trick of my mind, to believe that I have the power to ultimately decide what I can and can’t/ will and won’t suffer.  I base it off my past experiences. I  base it off of what I think I ‘deserve’. I base it off some collection of characteristics/belongings that I think are uniquely mine and will uniquely protect me. All I need to do is snap on my ‘shield of special’ and I’m safe, able to avoid all the stuff other people around me suffer, unless…maybe…just possibly…I can’t.

A few years ago, a friend fell to financial ruin. She had a good job and her employer loved her, but she got bored and decide to quit. Several jobs later, her house was forclosed on and she had to declare bankruptcy. I  supported her as best I could, but in my mind I always thought, “I would never do something so foolish, I would never just throw away a job and a life that was working fine just because I wanted to try something new.” Fast forward and now I am in NY, miserable. I had a great life in SF, but I was feeling restless, I thought I could have more, so I threw it all away only to find myself in emotional ruin. How am I better than my friend?

My dad was my hero. In my eyes, no one was more warm, kind, loving and special, if anyone deserved immortality, it was Dad. But, despite how special my dad was to me, he died. Despite his money, his loving wife and kids, his success, his intelligence, his frequent workouts and careful diet, his top doctors and his sense of humor, he died. All my life I have tried to be like my dad: Even as a kid, I ate the foods he ate, enjoyed the music he listened to. I have tried to have his success, his humor, his intelligence and adoration. Even if I had all those things, can I escape his fate –death? And not just death, disease, suffering, and the loss of a life he loved?

Back when I went on safari in Kenya, I was a vegetarian. I truly believed that my karma with animals was good, that I did them no harm and that they would do me no harm in return. I believed I was special, I was safe. But then I was run down by a rhino that easily could have killed me. Just because I thought I was special and safe it didn’t make me protected.  In truth I think all sorts of things make me exceptional and  ‘justify’ my safety: Goodness, effortfullness, Eric, beauty, money, fitness, planning and preparation. But I have seen countless examples of people, endowed with all these very characteristics, who fall victim to suffering:

• There was the actor in Sparticus, he was so fit and talented, he was just beginning to achieve success in his career after so much hard work. Rare cancer diagnosis at 40, dead within a year.
• There was Eric’s co-worker who planned carefully and retired in Carmel, she and her husband were close and adoring, like Eric and I. 6 months after retiring her husband died suddenly of a heart attack.
• Eric had a friend who he always did right by, he was generous and adoring with him, patient and loving. One day, the friend decided to stop being Eric’s friend even though Eric had done his best to be a good friend and person with him. Eric was heartbroken by the loss.
• Money was supposed to make life in New York easy and enjoyable. I am miserable and the reason we can’t leave is money — fear that Eric will ruin his resume, and won’t get another good paying job, if he leaves after just a few months.
• LP Thoon died after a struggle with cancer — who would I presume is a more ‘good’ or ‘worthy’ person?

These are the stories that stab my heart a bit. They have each stayed with me for years, by virtue of their details hitting a little too close to home. Now I know why —  they are an indictment of my shield of specialness, real live proof that such a shield won’t really work to protect me at all. I guess imaginary shields don’t do much to protect in the real world.

A final thought came to me that day at the hot springs — what if I didn’t have to be so damn special? What if all my struggle to acquire objects and traits that make me so unique, in my mind alone, was to come to an end? Why am I willing to trade fake protection for real burden?