Alana's Dharma Blog

This blog is the part of a series where I will share a selection of the daily dhamma data collection/ exercises, which I committed to for the 2018 Vassa period.  Today’s selection will all be highlights from the month of October, 2018. For more details on the exercise and commitment, please see the this blog.

Impermanence

• Today I saw two twin looking trees in a field. The same type of tree it seemed, one was all green and the other was going to a vibrant orange. Clearly there is a reason why the leaves change at certain rates, but from my perspective it is totally random and surprising. But ultimately, each tree will change, albeit in its own time. Even if in the same town, same street, same tree the leaves go at different rates. Like me, like people, we all decay and die, but at different times and rates.

 

• I sent in a photo order to CVS and I got an email it was received. But, when I went to the store, they had no record of the order. I went back to work and looked at the email and it said the pics were sent to the CVS across the street. But them not being here suggests some fault in either the system or the store.

 

• I got a stain on my favorite pink skirt. I took it to the bathroom sink and scrubbed at it, washed it, wrung it out, scrubbed again – I honestly got flush and worked-up a sweat. When I glanced-up, I caught a picture of myself in the mirror – I looked like a sweaty, haggard, middle aged woman – not the pretty pink pixie I imagine that skirt makes me. So which is it? Why, when I see the skirt, do I only imagine/remember the moments I looked so adorable with it, and not the ones where I looked sloppy in a stained skirt, labored to clean it, looked older and more worn in its presence?

 

• A maintenance guy was in the elevator today with a ceiling light shade that had cracked. I saw it broken and it made me wonder exactly how something so high-up, so “normal used” got broken.

 

• I had sat down on the plane and the guy in the seat next to me was pretty big, I had not so much room. I resolved myself to the situation and then him and his more petite wife changed seats, impermanence in my favor.

 

• Today I saw two twin looking trees in a field. The same type of tree it seemed, one was all green and the other was going to a vibrant orange. Clearly there is a reason why the leaves change at certain rates, but from my perspective it is totally random and surprising. But ultimately, each tree will change, albeit in its own time. Even if in the same town, same street, same tree the leaves go at different rates. Like me, like people, we all decay and die, but at different times and rates.

 

• I was on the bus last night and it just skipped a stop, it was never announced, the bus just rolled by. I couldn’t decide if I should be annoyed with the driver or if I should be annoyed with myself for accidently getting on the wrong bus. When I got off, I checked the route map and sure enough the stop was just skipped.

 

• Yesterday I went to see my old neighbors at their place and went by my old house. It felt so strange to look at the details that were so familiar to me: cracks in the stairs, the weeds that grow next to the garage door. I miss it. When we owned it, the mineness of it felt so real. Now, I know it is not mine. I can’t just walk-in and sit by the fire.  I can’t make new memories, or have a future there. It really made me think  of how convincing the miness can feel, and still be totally wrong. Afterall, if it isn’t mine now – if I can’t prove anything about myself with the address, if I can’t have a future I imagine there, was it really mine before? Can I prove something about myself with an address I am going to move from? Was the future I imagined what came to pass? I thought I would grow old in that home…

 

Lack of Control

• I have the worst heartburn from the sushi burrito I had for lunch and yet, I still have half a roll sitting on my desk. I want the flavor of the roll, but not the heartburn that ensues. But I can’t make the food be everything I want and I can’t make my body react exactly as I want.

 

• The AC is leaking in the Manhattan place. It’s so annoying, I hate that place, I just want it gone, and it seems like shit keeps breaking there every week. The idea that the house was going to be a center point of some great, charmed NY life was so so so wrong. Instead, it is just a vestige, a reminder of the mistake we made moving. That and a ton of work for something we are trying so hard to sell and be rid of.

 

• I saw a woman dressed so adorable/fancy on the bus this AM: Pink furs, pink sparkles, rose skirt, she was dressed just adorably. Then I noticed she was talking to herself in a crazy way. Other folks noticed too and everyone else on the bus was shifting around uncomfortably. That outfit wasn’t making the woman a person others on the bus liked, or wanted to be around. So what about my own pretty outfits? If hers don’t make her desirable and likable, how can I be so sure mine work for me?

 

• Because my new phone doesn’t fit in my wristlet, I’m trying to find a new wristlet. My phone controls my actions. As I scour the net for the “perfect bag”, it hits me…I feel annoyed. I don’t want to have to do all this work to get a bag. They are all the same basically, so why are there so many styles and colors and brands to choose from? I feel oppressed by the choice. Presumably, I have the choice to control my image, my identity with this prop, but instead even the act of selecting it controls me and my emotions.

 

• I started compiling stuff to consign today and I saw a belt I have barely worn, but it is frayed. Just worn out from storage and handling. It makes me see I keep these “precious” items because their so “precious”, but even just having them, without wearing them, can lead to their decay, it can lead to a loss in value or desirability. Why not just get rid of it now, why store and cling like value is somehow fixed and will live in that item forever?

 

• When I was in the dentist chair today, I felt out of control. It’s my tooth, my body, but I was at the mercy of the dentist. But here is the thing — am I ever actually in control? I think it’s my body, my life, my world. I feel ok when I have the illusion of control. I feel afraid when I believe I don’t have control. But if I see my life outside of the dentist’s chair as ‘under my control’ it misses the facts; my tooth cracked in the first place because I don’t control it. To try and fix the tooth, I need to render control to a professional to help. There was never a point I was in control, so why the sense of dread only some of the time?

 

• I looked at the retirement account this morning and we are down by many thousands of dollars. I did nothing, money just sat in the acct. and we lost it due to market forces. We worked to make it, worked to keep it, but now it is gone without any effort on our part.

Not So Special Now Are Ya?

• I was talking to a friend the other night. Back when she was depressed and unemployed she called all the time. She needed me. She affirmed me. She made me feel like my own experiences of being jobless and depressed were all right and normal. We were in it together. Now she is employed again and loves her new job. I had to call her because I hadn’t heard from her in 2 months. I am happy she is thriving, but it’s so clear that her need for me, our re-kindled closeness, was a matter of circumstance. When it changed, so too did the relationship and expectations. How can I use people, friends, to confirm my own specialness when the changed circumstances dictate the attention I receive and the resulting sense of specialness I feel?

 

• I was talking to a friend who had retired recently, leaving behind the company she herself started. She was heartbroken and depressed. As she spoke it was clear that in leaving behind her company she felt like she had lost part of herself, who she is. It makes me see, she defined special (value) by a role. I do too — my role as daughter, sister, employee, wife. But the roles, as my friend’s retirement shows, change and end. If something is just a temporary role, how can it be what defines us, makes us who we are?

 

• I was running late for the dentist and I decided to J-walk in NY. As I was going, the driver of the car I cut-off just looked at me and signaled that I had a red light. I just shrugged and kept moving. In that shrug was the truth–I don’t give a fuck. I have somewhere to be and the driver’s life circumstances were unimportant to me. But, that’s the very quality I hate in NY, NYers, the idea that other people don’t matter, social decorum, consideration don’t matter. People litter and honk because they don’t care about the impact of their actions on others; but wasn’t I doing the same thing with the J-walking today. I’m just as bad, I have my reasons and they have theirs. Moreover, I imagine a polite, orderly world is ideal, it is the standard I seek, the deviation from that standard is what feels unsafe, what I judge harshly. But I can’t even uphold my standard, I didn’t even care to. It’s not just whether I can judge others, and expect them to do what I don’t do, it’s more — if even me, with my strong values, my strong will, my desire for order can’t uphold proper decorum, being a good citizen all the time, is it even possible? Is the world I want doable when even I slack in the doing? I sometimes act like my will alone can bring about some environment or outcome I want…but it doesn’t even bring it about in me all the time.

 

• Driving through Vermont today, I felt my heart want to move here, to be here, to experience this life. My imagination started working in a flash. If I move here, a place that is so ‘me’, I will have a nice, safe life. But the truth is, I have moved so many times. Each time I expect something new and good. Each time I get reality– a mix of ups and downs. And no matter what, desire and insatiaty and loss. Of course, NY and Houston and Atlanta are different in their trappings and details, but essentially the experience, the story arch of my life is the same. What new do I think I can really find in Vermont?

 

• I saw a dove on the deck today and thought, “hello pretty bird”. Then I thought, “doves are just prettier, glorified pigeons.” The more I thought on it, I wondered in the grand scheme of things, what is being a pretty bird really worth? The dove has the same circumstances as the pigeon, trying to survive in NY, to get by. I see myself as a ‘pretty bird’, it is part of what makes me think I’m special, it is a trait I so desperately cling to, even as my struggle to stave off aging and decay grow more difficult by the year. But like a dove, I’m basically the same as other ‘birds’ (ie people). I struggle to get by in this world, looking for ways to thrive at best, survive at least, in a world that requires so much effort for both.

 

This blog is part of a series where I will share a selection of the daily dhamma data collection/ exercises, which I committed to for the 2018 Vassa period.  Today’s selection will all be highlights from the month of September, 2018. For more details on the exercise and commitment, please see this blog.

Impermanence

• I had a particularly difficult client for my business and I decided I was going to ask them for a higher fee because of their added demands and time requirements. I spent hours prepping and rehearsing my ask, only to get an email that the client decided they no longer wanted my service. On one hand, I was relieved not to need to work with them further, but on the other I was annoyed that I had wasted so much time preparing to ask for a raise for a job I no longer had.

 

• I was shocked to learn a restaurant I was trying to get reservations for closed at 7:00 PM. I couldn’t believe a restaurant would close at ‘prime-time’ dinner hour. But I realize that the restaurant has their reasons, they don’t follow my expectations or scheduling needs but rather follow their own.

 

• I went to Pilates today and got on a machine. I saw there was something strange about the machine I chose, a strap laying on it I had never seen before. Even still, it took me about halfway through the class to realize the strap on the machine, that I had tossed to the floor, was actually the shoulder strap necessary for all the hand/arm exercises. So, once we got to an exercise that required the strap, I had to change machines. Even with the evidence in front of me (weird strap on the machine) it took me a while to understand that the machine was broken. That is because I expect it to work as it has in all other classes before.  Plus, it worked for some exercises, so I didn’t even think it was broken for others. It is so clear I filter data through my own experiences and expectations. Why else would I have chosen to ignore a random strap just laying on the machine?

 

• The realtor came over today, while I was out, to take staging pictures of our NY home. He asked if he could move things and I said, “no problem.” When I got home, I saw he had put a Buddha statue in the bathroom as decor. I was aghast – in my mind, it was such an insult to the Buddha to put his image in the bathroom, who would do such a thing? But it made it so clear –what is obvious, even insulting to me is not necessarily the same for others. I take for granted that everyone shares my view/beliefs, but clearly this isn’t so.

 

• I was so worried about a long line for the shower at the gym this morning, this particular studio is always so busy at this time. I snuck out of class early to get a good spot in the shower line and there was nobody there, I really wish I hadn’t cut my workout short.

 

• I got the hotel bill for a few days stay and it was 3 times more than it had been the last time we stayed there. New dates =new rates.

 

• I overheard a gala volunteer explaining they couldn’t do the job they had done –greeting folks at the door – for decades, their knees had grown too weak to stand for so long. I have known this person so long, I still think of them as hail and hearty, it broke my heart to hear –to realize –they were growing so weak and frail in their older age. I thought, he used to be able to stand and now he can’t. I think about the clothes I used to be able to fit into, but now I can’t. Yoga poses I used to be able to do, the languages I used to be able to speak, the phone number I used to be able to call and hear dad’s voice…So many ‘used tos’ have gone way. Its not only the things I loved either — I used to be bullied by the other kids in middle school, now I am not. I used to have gallbladder pain, but since the surgery I don’t.  I used to feel devastated and trapped in the NY, but I don’t so much anymore. Those things have passed too. Everything moves along. I am the one who gets stuck, thinking what I love will stay and what I hate should be gone long before the causes for it going have been met.

 

Lack of Control

• I had started using a new facial massage tool to help me look younger. I was so pleased with how it improved my jawline, until I noticed that it was making my nasal labial folds worse.

 

• I jumped out of bed this am with the telltale cold sore itch. Sure enough, despite pills, creams, the light devices, and patches, this cold sore keeps growing and growing. None of my efforts are helping at all and I am so embarrassed.

 

• Eric had bought me a gift –a pair of Bose nose masking sleep headphones, but they broke within a few days of arrival. I was calling customer service, waiting on hold, thinking to myself these weren’t even an item I wanted, I never searched for them or imagined getting them, they were a surprise. But now, since they are mine, I have a responsibility to them. I have attachment. In just a few nights of use, I already worry about how I will sleep without them. My reliance grew so quickly. The headphones became a new sleep normal. Then they broke and I worried about repairs, replacement, dealing with customer service. I think these belonging are all under my control, that they make my life better. I don’t see they have 2 sides. I don’t see that if I become dependent on them, they control me not the other way around. And because of it I suffer in service to them.

 

• Last night I realized I had forgotten my purse and ran back to the office, as quick as I could, praying there was someone still there to let me in. As I ran, I thought about how much of my life is controlled by the contents of one little bag — without it, I can’t get into my house, I can’t pay for anything, or prove who I am with an ID, or use my phone to ask for help. I think I control my bag, but if I did, how is it left behind when I need it. I think I control my life, but if that were true, how is it so many critical things –lifelines – can be lost in a second with a bag.

 

• On my way to a meeting downtown my stomach began to hurt and I had to run and find a public bathroom for explosive diarrhea. As I think about all the evidence I have gained over this exercise I am starting to see: Each of these ‘freak’ one offs – sagging face lines, lost purses, cold sores, diarrhea, tooth pain, hearing sounds I don’t like, smelling smells I don’t like, not sleeping, over sleeping, weird dreams, trouble breathing – they are not one offs at all. They are not freak at all. These are totally regular things. My breaking, discomfort, body not as I want, changing, all daily events. How am I ignoring them? When will be the asthma attack that means I can’t breathe again forever? When will the tooth infection spreads? The pain become unbearable? Difference of degree is the delta between what I experience every single day and the day I die, or get a terminal diagnosis, or hit chronic unbearable pain. The difference is not kind at all. Why do I think I am able to control this body, this world, when everyday I encounter ample evidence to the contrary?

 

• I checked my credit score and found it had gone down. I racked my brain and I couldn’t figure out why – I had changed nothing, bought nothing new, and there appeared to be no fraud or other issues with the account. Despite my best efforts, entirely independent of my knowledge, my score had changed.

 

• Years ago, I used to do yoga everyday, my body was a yoga machine. But after an injury, I stopped doing it so much and began mixing-up my workouts. I went to a yoga class tonight and I felt like an amateur, so many poses I just couldn’t do. Despite years of work and discipline, my body had so quickly lost all the yoga abilities and movements it used to have. If I can’t force the effect of my efforts to endure can I really say I control this body?

 

• Eric made black beans and had me taste them for spice. They were amazing. Perfect. But, I told him, I didn’t think he made enough since we have guests over, so he dumped another can in. But, the second can changed the flavor and in the end it wasn’t as good. I can absolutely impact the black beans, but there is no guarantee I will make them better.

Not So Special Now Are Ya?

• I was visiting my brother and sister-in-law shortly before their second child was born – they were in the process of converting their office to a room for the new baby because it was the only spare room available in their house.  It made me remember so clearly that when I was a kid, shortly after my brother was born, my parents moved me to the guest room. I was so excited, thinking I was a ‘big girl’ now, getting the big room with the queen-sized bed. I thought it meant I was so  mature, special. Now, seeing my brother make space for his new kid, I realize that getting that guest room when I was young  wasn’t about me being special, it wasn’t about me at all,  it arose based on circumstances, on the space available in my parents’ home. So the question is, how many other things do I mistake as being about me –evidence of my specialness – when they are just arising based on the circumstance at hand.

 

• I saw a homeless woman standing on the street this morning, she was stopping folks walking by and asking them if they would sign her dad’s obituary. I remember how much it meant to me, when my dad died, that folks had written things for him on his obituary site — confirming my dad was someone special ( and by extension, so was I). I am always mentally distancing myself from the homeless people, thinking how I a different, safer, un-addled by drugs or mental health issues. I have skill, a safety net of savings, and loved ones to help keep me off the street. But, here she and I both are, the same, united in our loss of the people we love, desperate to try and prove our own value/identity in the face of that loss.

 

• Last night a friend had come over to hang out at my apartment. In the morning, I noticed a splotch of blood in the sink. I was so friggin grossed out, figuring it was my friend’s blood. But I clean up my blood from the sink all the time. Why do I think my mess is cleaner, less disgusting than someone else’s? Isn’t blood just blood no matter who it belongs to?

 

• I walked into a nick-nack store in today and they had a bunch of clocks for sale on the wall. Each one a little different then the others. I thought, “why is there so much selection, so many cups, dresses, blankets when they are all functionally the same” I see it is about making its buyer feel special, giving the illusion of special. If was all just had the same clock, no one would imagine it was anything more than a device to keep time. But the flourishes, the slight differences, this is something people can build a ‘unique’ identity upon. With this device, this style clock, or dress or blanket, I can be different than everyone else that uses these items. With this set of small details, I can use these everyday items to prove something special about me.

 

• I went to my favorite consignment store today. I love to go there and ‘troll’, scouting for clothes that are ‘me’, my style, that will make me feel sexy and beautiful — special. But, these very clothes used to belong to someone else, if they had the power to bestow specialness, why have they been tossed from some other woman’s closet? And what about all the clothes I have rid myself of? Thousands of articles by now, I keep looking for special, but if it were to be found, wouldn’t I have located it in one of those outfits already? What about the white fur cape, that I bought last year because I imagined how fab. I would look wearing it to the gala this year. But now, my body has changed and when I try it on it looks ridiculous. I use these objects to fuel my imagination of what I am, what I will be, and it doesn’t even come true.

 

 

 

This blog is the beginning of a series where I will share a selection of the daily dhamma data collection/ exercises, which I committed to for the 2018 Vassa period.  Today’s selection will all be highlights from the month of August, 2018. For more details on the exercise and commitment, please see the previous blog.

---

Impermanence

• Expected a friend to meet me for dinner but she canceled last min. At first, I was a little sad, but then Eric unexpectedly got of early, so I was happy when he cooked me an awesome homemade meal instead

 

• I bought a pair of pants at the store. I liked the fit so much I bought a second pair, in a different color, online. When they arrived, I was shocked and disappointed they didn’t fit at all –they were supposedly the same pants

 

• I walked into my local grocery store where I have been shopping for a long while. I hadn’t been in for a few weeks and this time the store was totally rearranged and half of it had become a sweets shop. I worried they had gotten rig of the fish section, but I learned it had just been moved.

 

• I didn’t check the train schedule and just assumed there would be a 12:40 train because there has been one before. This time, I was right, there was train and I made it to Thai class on time. But I started thinking how what I am used to/have experienced before is the foundation of expectations. After all, a friend who is always late, is in fact late, I don’t fret — in fact I plan for it, arriving a few minutes late to meet her myself. But a train, that I expect to be on time, I plan for it, when the train is not timely my disappointment sets in. The thing is… Impermanence is a pattern –that is the point of these exercises — it’s what happens all the time, so why am I upset by it?

 

• Eric started making me morning tea, out of the blue. The first day I was so happy and surprised the second day too. By day 3, I was less surprised but still happy. On day 4, when he again made me my tea I realized I had been expecting it. It had quickly turned from a flattering surprise to an expectations. How long till I think it is an entitlement? And the, do I become upset when Eric stops making me tea for some reason?

 

• I went to the bathroom before Thai class, as I flushed I got to thinking, “how did I get in here, I don’t remember grabbing the key?” Before I leave the restroom, I look everywhere for the key so I can return it to the language school, but it is nowhere. After class I asked the front desk person about the bathroom key. He told me the bathroom door had broken a few months ago (I had been using a key the whole time without needing it). He said he didn’t report it to the building because it is so much more convent for him now to not need a key. *present day note: This particular example is one that really hit me hard. My level of confusion at being in the bathroom without the key, my fear I had lost it, was so extreme the example hit home. I clearly saw that I can be totally wrong about the circumstances of the world. Fooled by what had been, and what I think continues to/should be.

 

• I went to tour the oldest African American church in the country today. Such a beautiful bright yellow space. They had restored it in the 70s and one part of the wall was left behind in its original condition… Crumbling and dilapidated, framed behind glass. It was so shocking to see what it was versus what it is now.

 

• Our Airbnb has a mold problem and my asthma is so triggered I have to sleep outside. It caught me unprepared, off guard, but the truth is, this has happened before: In Japan, in Miami, at a hotel in Sonoma. Over and over I have had asthma issues at hotels. But I conveniently ‘forget’, get surprised every time I think the pictures look so fancy, the ratings are good, that must mean it is the perfect place.

 

• I saw 1 tree starting to change color even though every other is still green. It really struck me, the outlier tree, the “freak” the thing that seems unnatural. But if it exists in this world, in nature, it is natural –why do I think my judgment and expectations will predict and govern the world?

 

• I started really noticing more trees changing. Just a few, or maybe a few leaves. I internalized. Though of how these trees, with just a few reddening leaves are like me. The age spots on my nose that were really bothering me this AM. The veins on my face like the ones coming through on leaves. Skin more brittle, more prone to splotching. The sagging breast, face, like the stems of these fall trees weaken, sag, begin to fall. So much sensitivity in my body now, not so vibrant and resilient. Like a simple breeze that begins knocking down fall leaves. And the smell, must, mold, like my own body odor changing Impermanence in the world and impermanence in my own form.

 

Lack of Control

• I caught a whiff of my armpits and I smelled so bad. I realized I had forgotten to put on deodorant this morning. Just one day without it and this is how I smell – do I really control this body?

 

• I leaned down to put on shoes and I hear a rip, my new pants, that I like so much, tore. I’m so sad, now I need to figure a way to fix or replace them… Why was this so unexpected? Why don’t I see my pants are subject to rip just like all other pants. I don’t control these pants.

 

• I put a pair of spanx on to go out, looked in the mirror and thought of how pretty I looked. I had wrangled my fat, squeezed it in, got it so the dress would zip. But then I thought ahead, to later that night when I would peel the spanx off again. It this temporary taming of fat really control? If I had control would I be fat in the first place?

 

• I got to the train station and GPS kept talking even though I had arrived; I was rushed and so annoyed with the thing even though it was actually doing what it’s supposed to do-give directions. I want it to talk when I’m lost, and shut up when I’m found. Even my things working, perfectly well, I’m not pleased with 100% of the time. I don’t control the phone and I don’t control my feelings about it.

 

• I had gone on a trip with my Mom and suddenly I realized I didn’t have control of even the most basic aspects of my daily life. When to eat, where to go, how long to stay. Suddenly these were joint decisions. Thigs negotiated with my mom. Things I often found myself yielding to avoid a fight. All it takes is one trip, one change of circumstance and the most basic aspects of my life –the things I so deeply believe are mine to control – are not.

 

• I sat in my seat at Amtrak train. I want quiet, but can’t control guy next to me taking long, loud call

 

• I was cleaning house and trying to put bottles away. Eric got annoyed because he uses them for cooking, but I like a clean house. Who really controls the space?

 

• My phone is losing juice fast and I worry I won’t make it home before the charge runs out. I have to stop what I am doing and head home early to charge the battery. I think this phone is under my control, but it literally forces my behavior

 

Not So Special Now Are Ya?

• I was in yoga class this morning and as I tried to get into a pose, my knees started hurting. I remember a few times I went to classes when I was younger, fitter, I had thought critically about all the beginner students and the older folks that couldn’t get into the poses well, that needed special props. But today is my turn to struggle. As Neecha said, the reason I feel special/ exempt/ like bad things won’t befall me is I don’t have enough evidence. I just don’t see that it has happened, that it will. But here is evidence with my own body, my yoga practice, that I already am facing an end to my exemption/exceptionalism. Ageing and loss of skill is happening to me.

 

• I was reading the news and saw a story about Trumps neweffort to prevent legal migrants from getting citizenship, my heart lurched and I felt hate for him. I started thinking, my usual response to bad news is how I’m special/ exempt/ safe. Bad shit is what goes on over there, to someone else. But here in America shit is getting scary: Intolerance, bigotry, the erosion of democracy. Why should I believe here, where I live is special? Why believe I am safe? Once Germany was a Golden Age democracy and then Hitler rose to power. What about America? American? History shows changes, swings, and now I see one on my own yard. Just like with the yoga classes, it was just a matter of time before it was my turn, my country’s turn for decline.

 

• Today is my birthday, a day where I feel extra special, expect others to treat me special. But when I think about it, how special is a birthday when everyone has one? I only think I’m special bc what I think I’m exempt from/ hadn’t happened yet, or it’s happened and I forget. Kind of like a birthday — I zoom in to one day, one moment and in it I am special, but if I zoom out I see birthdays happen every day and for everyone.

 

• Last night, walking home from the theatre, I saw a couple: The woman was laying down on a bench, with a blanket, like she was camped for the night. She was touching the knee of a man sitting, wearing a dirty business suit. It really struck me, way more than the homeless folks I normally see, it made me want to help, to do something. I realized it was the guy in the suit, the lovingness of their gestures toward each other — it felt relatable to my life, made me see that even happy couples, young folks, people once successful enough to wear a suit, can fall on hard times too.  The suit reminds me of my dad, or Eric, a rupa form to say, “buttoned-up, professional, financially stable.” But here was a man in a suit on the streets, unable to shelter himself or partner. I started thinking about if suits really mean success. Can they make someone successful, protect them from falling from that state? Clearly no, this is evidence in front of me. And can successful men protect their loved ones? Was this guy? Did Dad protect me from abuse? From bullies? Did Eric protect me from losing Dad? From losing SF? In reality it was following him that destroyed a life I loved so much. These things(money) and the people who I think keep me safe, exempt, special, they don’t do their job. They didn’t for the couple on the street and t they won’t for me.

 

• I got into a fight with my mom on our trip. I tried so hard not to, but she interpreted something I said badly, then she had a screech-yell-fit. I couldn’t stay calm, fought back. I feel terribly now. But I started thinking, why did I agree to come on a week long trip with my mom? I know she can be difficult. I know she pushes my buttons? After 40 years, how have I not learned?  I realized, I feel I’m so special I can be a saint – muster-up boundless equanimity, adjust to anything, always behave in the ideal way I want to, even though over and over I have proven this untrue. I think I can have the results of ‘perfect’ behavior –mustered by will alone, when I don’t have the causes for it. Who needs causes when I’m this special yo?

 

• Over and over on this trip, I kept seeing how I am so much like my Mom, how I have so many of the qualities that annoy me about her. The whole trip I felt force marched, dragged from site to site, with no regard for my need to rest. But don’t I do the exact same thing to Eric when we travel together? I felt like she didn’t listen when I said I was hungry, but what about the recent trip to Philly when Eric was so upset when I ignored his requests to stop and eat. I think I am so great, so special, but I have the same unlikable traits as my Mom.

 

• Went to a public garden and Eric read me the story of the old owners from the back of the brochure –they had been rich, childless and built the place together. But the wife got sick and her medical bills bankrupted the couple and forced them to sell their property. I think I am safe because of my wealth, being beloved by eric in our happy, childless, relationship, but I can suffer the same exact fate as this woman? I have asthma, I have joint issues and stomach issues. I have a body, that has already begun to break. That will keep breaking. Why do I think I can’t have medical bills? Why do I think I will always be able to pay them? Always be able to preserve the items I hold dear? There is no difference between us.