2020 Retreat Part 7 — Fancy Shoes/A Body That Inevitably Decay and Break, As Part of Normal Use, Can’t be Mine
Day 7: Part 1: Louboutin shoes
My louboutins are not under my control (they are not mine, their fading, decaying, breaking and eroding are inevitable — a normal part of their use).
If my louboutins were under my control they would not scuff, the leather would not sag, they would never smell or get sticky and wet inside.
If my louboutins were under my control their shiny red bottoms — the feature that makes them so special and unique — would never fade or scuff or scratch or erode. At the very least, the bottoms wouldn’t rub off so quickly, their razzle dazzle would last for at least a dozen wears, they would carry me through all the galas and parties and work events I imagined wearing them to when I bought the things.
If my louboutins were under my control I could just say, “sweet bottom shoes, stay sexy and non smelly and sleek and new looking, keep flashing a little red to the world.” They would listen to my pleas when I say “please, at least, just hold on a little longer before you lose your red-bottom shine, wait until after my next work event before you breakdown and look so worn.”
But the reality is that those sweet little shoes are not under my control. Although I watch where I walk in them, polish them regularly and wipe them down whenever I finish wearing them , after just a few wears, I see the scuff marks, scratches and chips, wrinkles at the toe, and a faint odeur de’foot is wafting up from their storage box. This is because the shoes travel through an environment where solid objects — the street and other shoes and rocks and dirt — rub against them causing scuffs and scratches and chips. The shoes spend time on my feet where pressure causes them to stretch and wrinkle, and bacteria and sweat from my body create smell.
This is all normal. When the causes for scuffs and scratches, sags and wrinkles, smells and worn bottoms have been met, these shoes will have scuffs and scratches, sags and wrinkles, smells and worn bottoms. My desire for them to be different, my expectation that they will last a certain amount of time, my imagination of their presence at future events, is all irrelevant.
“Alright then Alana, lets do the questions.” “Alrighty-O Great Dharma Lord.”
1) Are your shoes permanent or impermanent? Clearly Lord, they are impermanent. The way they look now is totally different then how they looked when I pulled them from their box the first time, in fact, I can see new marks and shape changes after each and every wear. It doesn’t matter that these shoes have a feature that makes them special — cool bottoms — they seem to wear and break down like every other shoe. It doesn’t matter that I take extra special care of them, they break down nonetheless. It doesn’t matter that when I bought them, I had a vision for these shoes, special outfits and special occasions where I was sure they would join me, they still breakdown, on their own timing and not on mine.
2) Is a pair of shoes that is impermanent, that you so hoped would last and didn’t, something easeful or stressful? Lord, it is so stressful to watch something I care about, I enjoy, I worked hard to buy, and hard to preserve, just breakdown and change. It is disappointing when my fantasies about where I will wear them to, and how I will look in them, are dashed.
3) So is it at all sensible to say that a pair of shoes you don’t control, that change and that cause you stress yours? Can you count on those sweet-bottomed shoes to actually represent you?
Getting to ‘no’ is a work in progress Lord, but here are my observations about those shoes: The nature of all objects is to break down and decay — when their elements have met the causes of their disaggregation or consumption, they will disaggregate or be consumed (or some combination of both). The function of shoes is that they are worn on my foot, out in the world, that they are eroded by, and changed by, both foot and world is a product of their function. When I bought those shoes, I knew all of this already.
But when I saw those sweet shoes, with their o-so-special red bottom, I was wooed. My mind got to fantasizing our future together –at least a dozen wears — and when a little corner of my brain reminded me, ” Alana, just remember those shoes, red-bottomed or not, are going to go the way of all shoes, they will erode and decay as part of their ‘daily life.’ Buy them if you want to buy them, use them if you want to use them, but don’t count on them to be there for you just because you want them, even if you have built your whole outfit on the basis of those shoes, even if you RSVed to an event thinking both you and the shoes will make it, even if you take super good care of them, know those shoes will break down and get busted”. And then I said to that little corner of my brain, “yah, yah, yah” and pulled out my credit card to buy them anyway.
When I pulled out my credit card, I was fixating on the the newness and shininess and red-bottomedness of those shoes. I wasn’t thinking about their future-worn-out-selves. When I pulled out the credit card I knew damn well any shoes ( better yet ones that I perceived of as valuable precisely because the area that touches the street most was painted red) would get ‘sick’, but I figured that was a tomorrow problem, I was focused only on enjoying the shoes today.
When I thought about how those red bottomed shoes would represent me, prove my stylishness, I was thinking about the shoes only in their newness and shininess and red-bottomedness state. Never in their worn out and scuffed and smelly state. But both states are native to the shoe. The broken state was already inevitable in the arrangement of the shoe.
When I bought those shoes, I had in mind a certain number of wears, a minimum number of events, and I determined their ‘worth-it-ness’ accordingly. But their final wear came long before my mind’s minimum and I suffered disappointment accordingly.
A part of me now wonders if I would have actually been satisfied if those shoes made it their dozen wears, or if I always want more? Either way, I know that I made my own, allowed to represent me, something that in the end proved totally dissatisfying. So maybe a different framing of this question is: If I only claim things as mine that I hope will give me satisfaction, and it is questionable if any object at all can ultimately give me satisfaction, should I in fact be claiming anything at all as my own?”
Day 7: Part : 2My Body is Like My Louboutin shoes
My body is not under my control (it is not mine, its fading, decaying, breaking down and eroding are inevitable — a normal part of its use).
If my body were under my control then my lungs would not scar, my skin would not sag, my moles would not change, my joints would not erode, I would never get sweaty or stinky or feverish.
If my body were under my control the face and the figure — the features I think make me so special and unique — would never fade or fatten or wrinkle or stretch. At the very least, this body would carry me through all the workouts and events and travel and gatherings – the sheer number of years — I imagine it will.
If my body were under my control I could say, ” sweet body, stay sexy and sleek and not smelly. Please, at the very least stay strong and healthy and pain-free” and my body of today would oblige, forever.
But the reality is, this body is not under my control. Although I wash it, work it out, feed it, medicine it and take generally good care, in just 40 years it has scars and torn joints and sagging skin and dark marks and diseases and regular hip pain. This is because this body travels though the world — encountering other objects and environmental features that heat it and cool it, abrade it and saturate it, push and pull and stop it in this way and that, consume it and alter its balance of elements.
This is all normal. When the causes for scars and torn joints and sagging skin and dark marks and diseases and regular hip pain have been met, scars and torn joints and sagging skin and dark marks and diseases and regular hip pain will ensue. My desire for a body that is different –unchanging and unimpacted, my expectation that it will last a certain amount of time, my imagination of its presence at future events, is all irrelevant.
“Alright then Alana, here we go with the questions” “Ask and I will do my best to answer Great Lord”
1) Is that body of yours permanent or impermanent? Oh so clearly Lord it is impermanent. The way it looks, feels, smells, sounds, and behaves is totally different now than it was when I was a kid. In fact I can see new marks, feel new sensations, watch how it moves differently each and every day. It doesn’t matter that this body has a face, a shape, that make it different from other bodies, that make it seem special and unique, it seems to wear down and break like every other body.
It doesn’t matter that I have a vision for this body — how it will look, how it will feel, how fit it is, how smooth the skin, how easily it breaths, how healthy it is — it still goes right on breaking down, according to its timing and not my own. I may have imagined a clear faced body at the last gala, but zits still popped up. I might have imagined a perfectly back bending spine, but I never was able to fall into a backbend from standing even after years of doing yoga hours a day, I may have envisioned getting through this pandemic without a hospital visit, but a rabies shot seeking Alana had to go to the ER a few weeks back.
2) Is a body that is so important to you, that you hoped would last but is already wearing, that shows signs of further aging and decaying with each day, something that is easeful or stressful? Nothing causes me greater stress than this body Great Lord. It is utterly depressing, soul crushing, to watch something I care about so much, something I love and depend on, something I work so hard to preserve just break down and change.
I feel disappointed when my fantasies about what this body will do and how it will look and feel are dashed. I feel extreme fear every time there are signs this body is decaying further, sickening and eroding, I live in anxiety of its illness, pain and death.
3) So is it at all sensible to say that a body that you don’t control, that changes and causes you stress is yours? Can you really count on it to represent you?
Getting to ‘no’ is a work in progress Lord, but here are my observations about this body: The nature of bodies is to break down and decay, when the causes for breaking down and decaying (shifting of elements) have been met. The function of a body is to carry me through this world, that it changes and erodes in relation to objects/environments in this world is natural, expected, it is a product of its function. The world makes no secrets about these facts, it is clear and plain to see.
At some point, I must have surveyed these facts and said, ‘yah, yah, yah, to the part of my brain that so obviously observed the ‘full package’ I was signing-up for when I entered a physical form a form that, through its very function, is exposed to the causes that result in its decay.
When I claimed this body, started calling it my own, I must have thought I could count on it, at least for some minimum amount of time, that whatever percentage of the time it satisfied me would be enduring, that it would make the whole body trip worthwhile.
When I am enamored with this body, fantasizing ways I will use it to build a life, feed an Alana identity, move through and enjoy this world, and represent me, I think only about a ‘snapshot Alana’. A snapshot that is healthy and beautiful and pain free; I don’t think of the ageing, sickening, dying body that inevitably comes about, lying in the frames before and after that snapshot state.
Last night, when a headache and some sniffles had me worried illness might be on the way, I said to myself, “despite your yah, yah, yahing, you must have known this body came with illness, that that was contract you signed. Now when there is illness, how can you be surprised? Why do you feel afraid, disappointed, by something that you knew was coming all along? If this body decays against your wishes and your imagination, in its own time and according to its causes, why would you count on it to represent you? If this body’s sickness and cessation, is not satisfying to can you really claim it as your own? Do you ever really claim things you know won’t be to your liking?
