May 2022 – Alana's Dharma Blog

Pandemic Ponderings

May 27, 2022 alana Comments 0 Comment

I want to introduce a new chapter in this blog, Pandemic Ponderings, that began from around February 2020, when Covid-19 really burst on the scene. It isn’t so much that my contemplations on rupa had wound themselves to an end. Rather it was that a huge ugly monster –a global pandemic — had entered, stage left, and there was no possible way for it not to have a huge impact on my dharma contemplations, including those specifically on form.

In one way, of course, Covid was a huge change; before the end of 2019 Covid 19 hadn’t been an infectious disease in the human population, and then suddenly it began to spread, and with that spread there was a huge shift in this world, in our collective existence and in my own personal life. In another way though, the world hadn’t really changed at all — a rupa world is one in which rupa is constantly shifting, decaying, consuming and being consumed — this was never a world where I, as a rupa being, could be safe. It was never a world I could depend on. The pandemic simply made what was already true glaringly obvious.

This next chapter represents my ponderings in the shadow of the Covid Pandemic. To kick us off, I will share a short Line chat with Mae Neecha from February 26th, 2020.

MN: Maybe focus on the four elements and decay? If your attachment to your body is a big issue, then understanding the truth of the 4 elements and rupa could be the key.

AD: I think you are correct. 4es, decay and duration seem to be most helpful for me in loosening stuff right now. I have also been trying to train myself to see the relationship between cause and effect more clearly, but it is less organic. Maybe I will set that aside for a little and really ground myself in Rupa and impermanence…those two topics feel very strong to me.

MN: I like rupa contemplations because they are super straightforward and factual. What you see is what you get. There isn’t so much room for interpretation

AD: Well…no time like a global pandemic to contemplate on the 4es and decay. The nature of this world is seriously laying itself bare right now. Needless to say pandemic illness is a real hot button for me…as I follow the news I can’t help but feel like for all the meaning I lay onto things in my life, the bottom line is every thing in this world, things I hold dear and things I despise, they are all made up of the same 4es. Constantly shifting, decaying, consuming and being consumed. That is the world I am so enamored with. These are the things I depend on to build a life…things that are fundamentally not dependable.

MN: This lovely world can turn into a nightmare overnight. Pollution or corona virus like epidemics can turn all those lovely things into death and nightmares. There is nowhere to hide for those of us comprised on 4es

AD: I hear you. It is true…and I’m starting to feel it. Nothing like a disaster to hammer it home I guess.

MN: It’s a major disaster… an undeniable danger. But we are living in a nightmare every day, corona virus or not. Only, we don’t realize it

AD: Years ago, I talked to you about a book — A Thousand Splendid Suns… mainly about the shit-show life of 2 women in Afghanistan married to an abusive guy. A sticking point in that book has stayed with me…one of the women, Laila had a perfectly good life, a supportive liberal family, an education, till the war broke out. A bomb killed her parents and that is how she found herself in the situation of needing to marry the abuser. I was struck that it didn’t seem right/fair/ it scared me that everything could be A ok and then go south so fast. Obviously it’s a huge fear of mine. The thing my Alana-made-up-exceptionalism is seeking to hedge against. But … when I am being honest with myself ( rare moments indeed) the world, with it’s virus or pollution or war, make it clear there is no true hedge.

I love to get sidelined with the “but, but, but”. With the ways I am different, with how I can control, or build good karma or manage my body, or be mindful of the circumstances I put myself in. But these ‘buts’ take me further from the ultimate truth. They are places my mind likes to hide and I think sometimes I even use my Dharma practice as a but. That is why I think your recommendation of 4es and decay (plus my duration and impermanence add on) is so powerful — so there is no but to hide behind. I can wash my hands religiously, keep a stock of masks and hand sanitizer, stay fit and take those vitamins, but in the end there are no guarantees. If the folks closest to me get sick, if I am exposed, if my immune system sputters, if all the ifs that need to come together to get sick in my case do in fact come together, I’ll get sick. The reason is simple…a 4e virus is capable of traveling via air and water, existing for some time on solids, active at the right temperatures. My 4e body is susceptible to that 4e virus. It can move (wind) through my blood, attack the solids in my lungs, raise my temperature, shift the balance of my own 4es such that I get ill. In this world there is consuming and being consumed. A 4e body is ripe for consumption and a virus is a formidable consumer.

MN: Yes, exactly! This is why LP Thoon emphasized the need to spend 50% contemplation time on rupa and 50% on nama. We need the undeniable rupa to bring home the truth. To ground our nama fantasies.

AD: Well pandemics seem good for my practice…after all h1N1 homeless Alana story was what kicked off my path ..so keep your fingers crossed for me…

There is Nothing Satisfying About a Glass House

May 20, 2022 alana Comments 0 Comment

Eric and I decided to take a day trip up to the ‘country’; we went to visit a little town in Northern Connecticut where a famous Manhattan architect, Philip Johnson, had built his getaway home, The Glass House. The home, as the name suggested, was a midcentury style glass box, surrounded by other architectural marvels, nestled in lush woods. The place was stunning — a home, and a setting, on which fantasies are built.

We joined a tour to learn a bit more about the architect and the history of the home. The docent explained that Johnson would spend 3 days a week at The Glass House and then return to Manhattan for the other 4 days to live in his NY apartment and work. When visitors to The Glass House asked about how he could ever want to leave, he explained he was always ready to go back to NY because the boredom of the country was too much by day 3, and always ready to head to the country because the stress of NY was too much by day 4.

On the face of it, it seemed like this architect had the prefect arrangement, he had managed to build himself a perfect life. In my own plans, I was working toward a similar arrangement: Eric and I want to retire with a country home and a city home, we want to split our time between two places that stimulate us in different ways. This is what drives us, it is the reason we endure Eric’s abusive jobs, why we scrimp and save and endure living arrangements and cities we hate.

The more I thought about it though, the more troubled I was by Johnson’s reply: If the country home had been satisfying why did he feel compelled to rush off to the city just days after getting there? If the city were satisfying why was he eager to escape to the country in another few days time? This wasn’t the perfect life, it was a life filled with longing, with restlessness and boredom — a life that wherever you are, somewhere else soon seems better. Is this really a life I want to emulate?

In my imagination, if I just have 2 homes I can travel between them and find fulfillment. But the fact I always want more, to seek out new places, to have second homes, to move and travel, is a pretty big hint — what the pattern tells me is I’m not satisfied. None of the many particular living arrangements I have had to date, (one of which actually included 3 homes) has managed to satisfy me, so why would they start to be satisfying at some future fantasy date?

So is it MINE?

May 13, 2022 alana Comments 0 Comment

Seeing a homeless person on the street on my way to work, I decided on a different path, one that let me steer clear of the guy and his panhandling. It annoys me so much to feel pressured to produce change, to give just because I am asked; the truth is, I don’t think those random homeless folks deserve my money. Of course, this begs another question — why do I feel I deserve my money? Is the money even really ‘mine’?

When it comes to money (or stuff, or good fortune, or love, or success) I know I deserve it because I have it. That part is pretty straight forward and clearly true: If you experience a result, the causes for that result have been put in place, in other words, I ‘deserve’ the result. But the problems begin when I see the reasons, or the results, of my getting money as proof it is mine. This ignores that reasons — causes — are always changing. Just because today reflects yesterday’s causes it doesn’t guarantee a particular future. If the future is uncertain, if my state and my stuff can change, can leave me, at any time, can it truly be MINE?

A few weeks ago, Eric was negotiating to get his contract at work renewed, there were a few days when it looked like terms might not be settled on and that Eric would end-up out of a job in 2 weeks time. For those few days, I stressed and worried over our money and financial security. I realized if it can be gone tomorrow, disappear at any time irrespective of my needs or desires, it was never really something I could rely on at all. So is it MINE?

I think money will save me. Keep me safe. Buy me a future. That is why I desire it. It is why I seek to own it. The belief that once it’s ‘mine’ it will act as I want. It will stay with me. But does it act as I want simple because I say I own it? I worry constantly about my investment accounts ,or inflation, or not having enough in retirement, if my money was actually going to do what I wanted I wouldn’t need to worry about it at all. Does it make me safe? Did my move to NY –which certainly made me richer — make me better off and happier? Does money protect against disease? Death?

The money I have I certainly deserve, but it doesn’t mean or do what I want it to. It can’t buy me a future, I don’t even know if I will have it in the future, all the causes that give rise to my wealth can become exhausted at any time. Everything and every cause eventually becomes exhausted. Money also doesn’t do what I think it does –it doesn’t buy safety, or security, or happiness, it is simply a currency with which to pay for worldly objects and experiences. I can’t depend on money to be there for me, nor depend on it to do what I want it to do: In the end, if I can’t depend on something, is it really mine?

Rupa+Nama =Atta

May 6, 2022 alana Comments 0 Comment

Eric and I decided to do a spa day at a fancy hotel in Miami. As we entered through the spa doors it felt like we were transported to a Spanish palace garden– a candle-lit courtyard dotted with lush trees, surrounding a fountain. A deep wave of relaxation washed over me, I hadn’t even had a spa treatment yet and I was already feeling as pampered as royalty. And then, suddenly I “sobered-up” and realized we were still indoors. My mind recoiled a bit, everything about the scene was so familiar –reminiscent of the perfect Spanish garden — even though I knew we never walked out of the building, I had mentally processed the place as being outdoors. I had processed it as a place of luxury and comfort and royal pampering, like the countless historic castles I had visited in Spain. My eyes saw familiar trappings– rupa — and my memory and imagination (nama) filled-in “realities” that weren’t actually real. I had literally caught my mind in the act of manufacturing meaning in my surroundings, and then getting me to swallow my made-up fantasy, even with abundant evidence (like never leaving the building) that proved those fantasies as false.

All this got me to think about some of the other places I manufacture meaning in rupa: I convince myself cleanliness =safety even though plenty of dangerous things can happen in a clean place. I convince myself that being fed hot food means someone loves me, even though every restaurant is in the business of serving up food not love. And then of course is the issue of this body — a shifting aggregation of elements that somehow I have pegged as “me” and “mine” despite all evidence to the contrary.

For months now I have tried to ‘sober-up’ my mind , to understand this body isn’t mine. That it is a 4e object that belongs to this world. That it is not special, that it can’t prove I am special. That I don’t control it, that I can’t rely on it, that ultimately it will go its way and I will go mine. Still, despite all this evidence, I cling to this body and I can’t even figure out exactly why I do. It is a body that causes pain, that embarrasses me, that I worry about and stress over constantly, still I can’t divorce skin suit from the identity of Alana. Now, though, upon seeing the way my mind manufactures meaning in/from objects I am starting to understand why I can’t just ‘let go’ of the body– this body is part of the Alana construct. I need the body for the meaning I overlay onto it. No body, no Alana.

For so long I have thought about rupa and I have thought about nama, but separately. Now I see that that it is nama and rupa together that create atta, they create my sense of an Alana self. More specifically, nama, overlays the Alana identity onto this body. So of course I want it to be pretty, healthy, alive — the body it is bound to the construct of who and what I think I am. Because I love “Alana” I cling to this skin suit.

Once I assume a body is Alana, or at least the scaffolding that holds an Alana together, I have to start assuming that body is somehow special. My mind uses mental gymnastics that I have seen play out again and again (See Past Blog on The Relationship Between Desire, Clinging, Mine and Self for a more in-depth dive of the mechanics) whereby I claim this as mine, or in this case sorta ‘me’, and with that label I ‘read’ in a meaning of special so that I can conveniently ignore the evidence that this body, like every other body, will decay and decline and is liable to disappear at any moment. Afterall, no one wants an object –better yet one they build an identity off of –that can just up and leave them at any moment.

All this special-bull-shit-delusion is to make this entire endeavor of being and birthing and becoming seem like it has a point, like it isn’t just futile. But no matter what my mind reads into the body, into the world, the efforts to become really are futile because the reality I am choosing to ignore is the reality of annicca (impermanence) . This body is subject to impermanence, to dissolution and decay — it is in fact the ticking timebomb that insures that my carefully curated Alana construct will one of these days implode. Rupa+Nama may= Atta, but the truth of this world is anatta. The truth in an indoor room, an uncertain future, no matter what meaning my mind manufactures, no matter what illusions my imagination cooks up. I just need to keep pushing my mind to sober-up.

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