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Month: October 2022

2020 Retreat Part 4 — A Cabin/Body That Doesn’t Keep Me Safe Can’t be Mine

2020 Retreat Part 4 — A Cabin/Body That Doesn’t Keep Me Safe Can’t be Mine

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Day 4 Part 1: My Vacation Cabin is Not Mine 

My Vacation Cabin is not under my control (it is not mine, it cannot guarantee safety or protection).
If the cabin were under my control, I would feel comfortable there all the time — there wouldn’t be dust everywhere, the hot water wouldn’t take forever to heat, the pipes wouldn’t creak and there wouldn’t be mold that aggravated my asthma.
If my cabin were under my control the power wouldn’t just spontaneously go out, especially not when I am busy and need it to work and get stuff done.
Most importantly, if the cabin were under my control it would do the ‘job I hired it for’ and keep me safe, away from people, socially distanced and guaranteed covid free.   There would be no incidents or accidents — like rabies exposure from bats in my bedroom one night — that forced me out into the scariest of places in a scary covid world: The ER for rabies shots.
If that cabin were under my control I would be able to say: “Damn it cabin, be the cabin I thought you were from the listing photos — all clean and modern and convenient. Have easy hot water and no dust and shouldn’t there at least be power? Cabin, oh cabin, even if you can’t keep me comfortable do your most critical job and keep me safe!” And of course, if the cabin were mine it would brightly, cleanly, comfortable and safely reply, “Your wish is my command.”
The fact that the cabin is not mine to control is plainly evidenced by the dirt and the creaking and the mold induced coughing and, above all else, by the 6 hours I spent in the emergency room last week for rabies shots post bat exposure.
“So Alana, is that cabin of yours constant or changing.” Well clearly it is changing My Lord — the dust seems to get thicker, the power flickers and the bats just  appeared out of no where.”
“And Alana, is something that keeps changing stressful or un-stressful” “Lord, the lights and the dirt and the cabin noises, those are a little bit stressful, they are not the peaceful vacation ‘add-ons’ I would have chosen. But going to the ER during Covid was one of the most stressful experiences of my entire life: I have been so careful, so disciplined about Covid, I hadn’t seen a soul up-close, besides Eric, in months and there I was in an ER where ever patient could have been the vector of the covid infection I had worked so hard, sacrificed so much, just to avoid.”
Before I signed the lease, I looked at the pictures, I visited the cabin, I read reviews online. By all the evidence I could uncover this looked like a comfortable and safe place to ride out a covid summer. After all, I did all my home work, I was prepared, I KNEW exactly what to expect once we arrived. The problem, the root of  my suffering, is in the vast difference between my cabin expectations and my cabin reality.
 “Alright then Alana, do you think it is sane or rational to call a cabin that you don’t control, that is changeable and stressful and precipitated a trip to the ER during a pandemic ‘yours’?
Lord, I do admit that I am still TBD on this question, but ere is what I do know and can say so far:
Rupa is constantly changing. If there had been a bat in the house on the day of my viewing I would have never rented the place. I became attached to the idea of a bat free house, but the situation changed, the arrangement changed and voila, enter bat.
What is more is that over and over I have proven myself to be piss poor at ‘interpreting the rupa’ . I look at an arrangement of rupa and I start reading tea leaves — well decorated means clean and comfortable, remote means safe. But the truth is, time and again my ‘rupa predictions’ fail and I am left with the disappointment, dangers and consequences of living in a rupa world that reflects the nature of rupa itself  (impermanent, stressful, not self) not the meaning I assign it.
I know cabins can be dirty, and not comfortable, and not safe. That is a normal part of the world. But once that cabin became ‘mine’, at least for a little while, I thought it would be a super cabin, special and different and, at least, free from danger. The fact that my cabin is just like every other cabin in its inability to keep me either safe or comfortable does make me question the grounds on which I go about claiming it as mine.
  Day 4 Part 2: My Body is Like My Vacation Cabin.

My Body is not under my control (it is not mine, it cannot guarantee safety or protect me).
If my body were under my control I would feel at ease, pain free and comfortable in it all the time. There wouldn’t be dirt and filth that accumulate on my skin, my  joints would never feel stuck and would always feel ready to move, my body wouldn’t make annoying sounds like farting and burping and I wouldn’t have microscopic bugs that live in my skin and cause rosacea.
If my body were under my control, it wouldn’t just stop from exhaustion, it wouldn’t need rests and sleep and breaks, especially not when I am busy and need it to get stuff done.
Above all, if this body were under my control it would keep me safe, it would shield me from stabs or gun shots or car accidents or falls, bacteria and viruses and parasites and animals that seek to consume me,  and it would absolutely not begin attacking itself with cancer cells and autoimmune diseases and allergies.
If this body were under my control I would simply be able to say, body, body, please don’t get hurt, please don’t get sick, be comfortable and clean, be quiet and stop embarrassing me with your sounds or worrying me with your growing moles or forcing me to sleep when I feel so desperately that I need to stay awake.  And my body, clean and firm, silent and alert, pain and disease free would say, ” Your wish is my command!”
But I know for a fact my body is not  under my control because it couldn’t repel bats in my sleep. I needed emergency care and shots because the body’s elements on their own are unable to repel rabies, they require the consumption of a 4e rabies vaccine in order to shift into a form that will prevent the rabies virus from consuming me. A body I control would be absolutely self protecting, always able and prepared to fight off disease.
I know this body is not mine to control because sounds and scents and stiffness and pain that I do not want plague me constantly. I know this body isn’t under my control because I can’t count on it to protect me and to keep me safe, not just from outside forces, but even from itself — I know my own skin cells may have turned cancerous and be trying to consume me. I know my body is not under my control because it follows its nature, shifting and decaying, dirtying, expelling waste and getting sick instead of following my rules and desires about what my body should be.
“So Alana, is that body of yours changing or unchanging?” “Clearly Lord it is changing all the time. It goes through cycles of dirty and clean, of pain and no pain, of sleep and waking.” With age my joints have stiffened and my movement restricted in ways unimaginable in my youth and with passing years new illnesses arise, or threaten to arise, that reduce my sleep even further.”
“Alana, would you say a body that keeps changing is stressful or un-stresful?” ” Great Lord, this shifting, changing, body is a world of stress. There are small annoyances like increased flatulence and filth and there are panic-attack or pain inducing changes like asthma attacks and mole growth. I have spent my life working so hard to take care of my body, to keep it healthy and safe from harm, but for all of that effort, decay and disease keep stepping in, trumping all my will and intention and sovereignty over this body. It makes me so sad and scared. I feel helpless.”
‘Alrighty then Alana, do you really think it is sane or logical to say that a body you don’t control, that is stressful and changeable, that gets dirty and tired and worst of all sick, is something that belongs to you?
Well Great Lord, I still can’t issue that super solid no that the text books tell me is correct. But this much I can say –On some level I realize that I must just expect that if my body was healthy yesterday, it will be healthy today and tomorrow, because each new illness or new pain is a shock and surprise. I think, no not me, it simply couldn’t be… But the truth is that  rupa is constantly changing. Skin that was healthy before can become irritated or cancerous when the conditions for irritation or cancer have arisen in its arrangement of the 4es. This is normal.
What is more is that over and over I have proven myself to be terrible at  ‘interpreting the rupa’ . A lifetime of hypochondria tells me that just because I think new lumps mean cancer and chest pain means heart attack these things can be, and have been in the past, fungus and acid reflux. Just because I thought the new spot on my foot was a wart it doesn’t mean it is not skin cancer.  Knowing I am so terrible at ‘reading the rupa’, makes me suspicious that my reading of the rupa of this body as ‘me’ or ‘mine’ may in fact be incorrect.
I know other human bodies get dirty, flatulent, tired, pained and diseased. I read the news, I see the lives of folks around me, this is normal, common, everyday  stuff.  But  when it comes to my body, I seriously think things will be different, it will stay young, it will stay fresh and it will stay healthy. My body, at least in my mind, is special and different, it is safe and comfortable. The problem is that all the evidence in my real life refutes this idea of specialness that exists in my mind — my body acts like every body, aging, changing, causing stress and pain. If my body is exactly the same – in substance and behavior — of absolutely every body, then what is the logic, or the use, of claiming this particular one as mine?
2020 Retreat Part 3 — That Pair of Jeans/Face That Change in Accord with Their Nature, and Can’t Be Stopped From Disaggregating, Can’t Be Mine

2020 Retreat Part 3 — That Pair of Jeans/Face That Change in Accord with Their Nature, and Can’t Be Stopped From Disaggregating, Can’t Be Mine

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This contemplation is part of a series of exercises, derived from the Anatta-Lakkhana Sutra, that I did during my 2020 personal retreat. For more details please see the blog  titled Introduction to Contemplations From 2020 Personal Retreat.

Day 3: Part 1: My Jeans 
My jeans are not under my control (they are not mine, they change in accordance with their nature and not my rules, no alteration I make to them will  avoid their final state of disaggregation).
If my jeans were under my control they would never get thinning spots or areas that become piled and bumpy. If my jeans were under my control they would stay that same smooth, tough, easy to care for fabric that they were when they were new.
If my jeans were under my control they wouldn’t have started sagging, stretching and loosening, especially not when when I use them according to their purpose, without being particularly rough or abusive to them.
At the very least, if my jeans were under my control they would accept the repair patches I apply without complaint. They would stay repaired, at least a little while, before starting to abrade and errode again, or tear in some new spot.
If my jeans were under my control, I could curse them, or coax them, or implore them or berate them, some word or action of mine would convince them to stop wearing and tearing. And, if they insisted on wearing and tearing, at least honoring my repairs and giving me a little while before I needed to worry about patching again.
But the reality is that my jeans are not under my control. The texture and shape change because the nature of the fabric makes them susceptible to texture and shape changes. Dirt and particles and surfaces in the environment or my body that come in contact with my jeans can shift the composition (the balance of 4es) of the jeans — they can become abraided, piled or stretched. Spills, or wash water, or detergent that come in contact with the jeans can also change their texture making them feel stiffened and thickened rather than the smooth they were when I bought them. Heat from my body or the dryer or the air can weaken the fabric of these jeans (again, shifting the balance of the 4es of the threads) making them even more susceptible to texture change or stretching/saging.  This is normal.
Now, to be clear, I can definitely apply a patch to these eroding jeans.  I have done it before, used my 4e hands to apply a 4e patch, altering the 4e balance of the  jeans (by adding new 4e material) and achieving a repair. But soon after, my patch began to fray and peel up, so I know the repair is temporary.
So long as it is within the nature of the object to be repaired, it can be repaired. But because the nature of these jeans is ultimately to disaggregate, no effort on my part will ever, ever ever ever ever, ever prevent their ultimate demise because that demise is in their nature. So much for control Alana!
When the causes and conditions for this abrading/sagging/stretching/ stiffening/ patching/ patch peeling have been met,  the jeans will shift and change no matter what my preferences, no matter how embarrassed I may be that my butt is hanging out..
“OK Alana, are your jeans constant or inconstant?” “Lord, they are clearly inconstant, they have a totally different fit/look/feel now then they did when I got them.”
“Alana, is something that is inconstant, as you described, satisfying or dissatisfying?” “Lord, I gotta go with dissatisfying on this one. I really would like for my jeans to stay in the like new state — that was the state I bought because that was the state I believed would be satisfying. To have it change like it has, is super disappointing, it makes me feel a little angry, a little bait-and-switched, I am not at all satisfied.”
“So Alana, if you don’t control your jeans, you can alter them temporarily but sure as heck can’t alter their march toward their final destination of demise, they are inconstant and unsatisfying, does it make logical sense to call these jeans ‘yours’? Are these jeans who you are? Are these jeans something you can count on to represent you? I mean really Alana, does your butt hanging out really represent you?”
“OK Lord, I swear I am working on getting to firm no. In the meantime, I will say this: These jeans are just a collection of elements, they aggregate into the shape of jeans, they change and shift their arrangement in accordance with their nature and then they ultimately shift into the state of jean demise. I can use these jeans for some period of time, I can alter them within the limits of their nature, but I have no hope at all of forcing them to alter beyond the bounds of their nature. I have no hope of keeping them. I will admit, to call something I can’t hold on to, I can’t control and I can’t ultimately rely on ‘mine’ is growing a bit challenging.
Day 3: Part 2: My Jeans are Like My Facial Skin
My facial skin is not under my control (it is not mine, it does not represent me, it changes in accordance with its nature and not my rules, no alteration I make to it will avoid its final state of disaggregation).
If my face skin were under my control I would not have rosacea. My skin wouldn’t get thin and crepey in some areas and thick and bumpy in others. It wouldn’t turn red or itch or burn. My skin would be smooth and pretty and perfect like it was when I was younger.
If my face skin were under my control, it wouldn’t sag or wrinkle, it wouldn’t stretch or loosen, especially not when I am diligent about facial exercises and sunscreen and moisturizer and facials.
At the very least, if my skin were under my control, my ‘fixes’ would actually ‘fix’ not temporarily patch, or do nothing visible, or make things worse. One botox shot would last forever, that pricey new moisturizer would have gotten rid of that under eye bag that is driving me nuts, and that first med my doc prescribed for rosacea wouldn’t have made the peeling and burning worse.
But, alas alack, I cannot prevent my skin from assuming arrangements I despise, and I cannot ultimately keep those arrangements, and far worse, at bay. At best, maybe, sometimes, possibly (with the risk of making stuff worse),  I can temporarily alter the state of my skin — within the bounds of its nature — to sometimes/temporarily achieve a look/feel that runs closer rather than further from my imagination/desire. To call such temporary-maybe-sometimes-better-sometimes-worse alterations ‘control’ would idiotic: At the end of the day, no matter my will, my action, my speach or my desire, my facial skin’s elements will shift and adjust in accord with it’s nature and not according to my rules.
Therefore, it is totally normal when my rosacea flares up and my skin looks like a bumpy beat and burns. Afterall, microscopic insects that live on my skin (4e objects) can absolutely consume my skin and alter its balance of elements such that the resulting state is dry, burning, bumpy and red. Gravity and sun and the natural tendencies of aging and shifting in my own body can cause and contribute to my skin shifting shape and becoming saggy and laggy and droopy.
When the causes and conditions for this burning/red/bumpy/thinning/sagging/stretching/wrinkling/peeling and at last, total decay or consumption have been met, Alana can bet her booty (that is hanging out of her patch peeling jeans) that burning/red/bumpy/thinning/sagging/stretching/wrinkling/peeling and at last, total decay or consumption will ensue.
“OK Lady, lets do the questions then”. “You betcha Great Dharma Lord”
1) Is your face skin constant or inconstant? Oh its so obviously inconstant. I had the best skin as a kid, even a teen, no acne, smooth and pretty. Trouble didn’t start till 20, when the acne began, and then the rosacase, and then the eczema, and then the aging. And even each of these things are sometimes a little better and sometimes a little worse. My skin reflects its changing and changeable nature.
2) And is changing and inconstant skin satisfying or unsatisfying?  I am so so so so deeply dissatisfied with my skin. I loved it when I was younger, but each change — in the direction I consider ‘wrong’ is a deep disappointment. It is an embarrassment. I look in the mirror and I cry sometimes at the loss of youth, at the unwillingness of my skin to cooperate. I itch at it and I ice it in the hope to reduce the pain.
Any, momentary satisfaction I had in it when I was younger is now long gone. Any satisfaction I feel when something ‘works’, the rosacea calms or the lotions and potions smooth, is just the grounds for future dissatisfaction when the skin again shifts out of an arrangement I prefer. More sorrow, more drama, more disappointment when what worked for 1 moment fails to work for 2.
3) If you don’t control your skin, it is inconstant and totally unsatisfying, can you really say that it is ‘you’ or ‘yours’ or ‘represents you’? This is a work in progress My Lord, but here is where I am at:
My Jeans, my skin, and every object in this world is just a bundle of elements marching through shifting states of rupa. Rupa objects interact with each other, with the environment, they can shift course (though never go back), but the final destination is always the same, disaggregation or consumed (or some combination of the two).  When the arrangement of skin necessary to manifest rosacea arises, rosacea will arise. I (my nama) can scheme a plan to call the doc, get a script, and my hands can apply the meds (another 4e object). In this regard I can be a cause for a change in my skin, but I can not guarantee a result.
I have used rosacea drugs that didn’t visibly do crap . I have used rosacea drugs that helped and I have used rosacea drugs that made my skin worse. Because any cause I put in place does not ensure the result I want, I am not in control.
The problem is, when I sometimes get a result that is more, rather than less, in line with my imagination/desires, I convince myself I am lord and master of my skin. It is those moment, when the med actually works (at least temporarily) and my skin looks clear and smooth, that I preen in front of the bathroom mirror thinking that there is me, it is mine, it represents me, its current state is in line (ore or less, with one eye closed if I squint kinda hard since 41 is clearly not 21) with who I think I am (ohh the me I wanna be). Unfortunately, it is also those moments that feed both the delusion and the hope and set me up for a world of hurt later on.
Later on will come. A few days after I achieved ‘clear skin’ from my latest meds, I was greeted in the morning mirror with a big new bump. Suddenly my skin wasn’t me, it didn’t represent me, it was aberration — an alteration away from what my mind, in just a few days’ time, had convinced me was normal. But the real normal is 4e skin shifting according to its nature, changing form when stimulus for change has been reached.  Sometimes that is bumpy form. Sometimes it is smooth form. Always its end form is disintegration.
So I guess the real questions for me to consider are these: Can I really find anything of substance in a shifting mass of elements that inevitably, ultimately, c
ease that I can call ‘me’? Especially when I actually only want to call certain states along that shifting set of elements me/represent me/mine? At the very least, I should claim the whole thing in all its states.
And if an object, or my skin, or my body, is just a shifting mass of aggregated elements does it really represent anything other than itself — either its momentary trail marker or perhaps its entire march along the entropy parade path?  I know, I know, my mind likes to imagine that I can superimpose myself, my reflection, onto that shifting mass, but  the efforts seem a bit hollow when I can’t, not even temporarily, guarantee it’ll assume or hold that shape I am seeking (out damned spot).  I mean I would never send my crazy, loud mouthed, unpredictable, totally disobedient, employee to represent me at a conference…
As for something being mine, I’ll admit this is the hardest for me to see right now. Afterall, objects have utility, I can in fact sometimes use them…until I can’t. Which brings me to the question of whether or not I can claim an object that, by its very nature, is a ‘loaner’? Each and every item, even my body, has a rental period when it is up, it is up, whether I want it to be or not.
 A part of me just wants to admit that I can call something mine, or I can call it “Bessie the Cow” , but at the end of the day each object and I will part ways, march away from each other on separate courses. Now, or sooner, or later my time with my skin will come up. Now, sooner or later, my time with my body will come up. Despite all I imagine this body to be, despite the future I have fantasized for it, despite how desperately I feel/think I need it, we will part ways.
2020 Retreat Part 2 — A Fish Tank/Body That Doesn’t Conform to My Expectations Can’t Be Mine

2020 Retreat Part 2 — A Fish Tank/Body That Doesn’t Conform to My Expectations Can’t Be Mine

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This contemplation is part of a series of exercises, derived from the Anatta-Lakkhana Sutra, that I did during my 2020 personal retreat. For more details please see the blog  titled Introduction to Contemplations From 2020 Personal Retreat.

Day 2: Part 1: My Fish Tank 

My fish tank is not under my control (it is not mine, it does not conform to my view of it, it doesn’t act in accordance with my imagination or fantasies).
If my fish tank were under my control the glass would not be so fragile — it wouldn’t so easily scratch or chip and I wouldn’t have to worry about it shattering.
If my fish tank were under my control then I could just set it up and it would be easy to maintain–  a little cleaning, a little feeding, and it would keep a steady state equilibrium where the PH and the lighting and the plant load and fish load existed in perfect balance.
If my fish tank were under my control one fish would never attack another, the plants would never grow unchecked, and an algae bloom wouldn’t starve the fish and plants of oxygen. At a minimum, that fish tank would accept and appreciate all my ‘fixes’ and ‘maintenance’ without creating further problems in return.
If that fish tank were actually under my control, I could say, ” Oh fish tank, when I bought you I imagined you would be just an easy, pretty thing. Please be the tank of my imagination and stop being so fragile. Stop with the algae blooms that kill the plants and the PH adjustments that harm the shrimp, and the aggressive fighting catfish and please, please, please just stay in a balanced state so that I can sit back, relax and enjoy you.”
Alas, my fish tank was never the fish tank of my imagination. Dozens of scratches and huge chip in the corner prove it was never under my control. Glass by its nature is fragile, easy to scratch or chip or shatter when a solid of sufficient force encounters it.
Keeping my tank maintained and in balance was a fight of epic proportions. When I went too long without changing the water, ammonia levels rose and my test strips condemned me with dire warning akin to:  ‘Red alert you fish murderer.’ When I changed the waster too frequently chlorine levels rose and my test strips condemned me with dire warning akin to:  ‘Red alert you fish murderer’.
Just a slight excess of food, the same amount that had worked fine for weeks, led to decay that led to bacteria that deprived the tank of oxygen that started killing my plants.  When algae became a problem I bought a ‘cleaner catfish’ to eat the algae, only the catfish was super aggressive and started attacking my other fish. When I put rocks in the tank so my other fish could hide from the bully cat fish the rocks changed the tank PH and my test strips condemned me with dire warning akin to:  ‘Red alert you fish murderer.’
I thought that tank would be a fun toy, but in reality tanks are a complex, interdependent system where components continually shift and impact one another. This is natural — four element objects continually shift and change, they interact with each other and the environment precipitating further change. They act in accordance with the rules of rupa, not the fishtank fantasies of Alana.
“So Alana, is your fish tank constant or inconstant?” “Great Lord, that darn tank was constantly inconstant: chemical balances changing, fish dying, shrimp breeding, plants spreading…what worked perfectly to care for it one day lead to massive disaster and die off the next.”
“And Alana, is something that is inconstant stress full or easeful?” “Stressful!  The irony Great Lord, is that I was so sure that my tank was going to ease my stress, that it would be the relaxing ‘moving picture’, that all the tanks in the mall and the fish store looked to be. But those mall/ fish store moments were just that — brief moments — where tanks appeared to be balanced and harmonious. Once I got the tank home the full picture became clear, constant work to upkeep, continual fear that any given shift –totally out of my control– would destroy the thing I loved.
“Alright Alana, here is the biggie question — do you really think it is fitting to be calling something you don’t control, that is inconstant and stressful ‘you’ or ‘your’ or representative of you’?
Well Great Lord, I still can’t give you a firm, exuberant ‘hellz no’, but I will say this…When I desire something, and therefore seek to claim it as ‘mine.’ I am only really seeing one side of it. I want the pretty, flashy, relaxing, fun bits. I either ignore the ugly, stressful, difficult, decaying parts or I ignore the pain and suffering that getting those ‘dark-side’ parts will bring me. But with glass I get breaking. With fish I get death and loss. With a mini ecosystem I get a ton of upkeep and work. If something is ‘mine’ it has to be mine in all its states, not just the ones I want.
Day 2: Part 2: My Fish Tank to My Body

My body is not under my control (it is not mine, it does not conform to my view of it, it doesn’t act in accordance with my imagination or my fantasies)
If my body were under my control it wouldn’t be so fragile — my skin wouldn’t scratch, my joints wouldn’t chip and bones wouldn’t break.
If my body were under my control then I could just do the basic care and feeding, add in a little working out and sleeping, and I would be good to go. This body would just hit a stride of steady state equilibrium — my blood sugar, cholesterol, vitamins and hormones all in perfect balance.
If my body were under my control I would never worry about cancer cells attacking healthy cells, about a mole growing unchecked or that a fungal infection that would kill off my ‘good bacteria.’ At a minimum, my body would let me ‘fix’ it without spiraling into further diseases and decay.
If my body were under my control, I would damn well know it by now because I have spent many nights pleading with it. I say, “body, please just be the thing I imagine you to be, be healthy and dependable, be beautiful and ageless, be mobile and fit and pain free. At least, be a little more like the body I had in my 20s, or I’d even settle for 30s…”But alas, my body doesn’t respond, it is not the body of my imagination.
Instead I live with constant fragility — nails that chip and hair that breaks. Joints that are already wearing down and a fractured toe that will attest to the fact that with sufficient force, a hard jagged pavement can break a bone.
Keeping this body maintained and in balance is literally a struggle for my life. I started taking green coffee supplement to manage my blood sugar but it irritated my bladder, causing incontinence. I started eating meat to manage low blood sugar, but the saturated fats have made my cholesterol too high. I apply sunscreen to protect my skin but as a result my vitamin D levels are too low. I use a steroid inhaler to keep my airways from constricting, but the very same chemical that opens my airways leads to fungal overgrowth in my mouth. I took up running to increase my cardiovascular health, but stripped my hip joint in the process. I await lab results from every check-up with bated breath — always afraid I will find some new, lurking, imbalance that endangers my life.
From my perspective, it feels like my body is constantly faltering and breaking, but in truth its behavior is completely natural, not broken. This body is a complex, interdependent system where components continually shift and impact each other. In this body, the 4 elements are constantly shifting, interacting with each other internally and with other 4 element objects externally: Aggregating, re-aggregating/shifting/changing proportions, disaggregating, consuming and being consumed. This is the cycle of Rupa. No matter how much I fantasize it were otherwise, this is the cycle to which ‘my’ rupa body is enslaved.
“Allrighty Alana, you know the questions by now.” “Yes, Great Dharma Lord, shoot”
1) Is that bod of yours constant or inconstant? — this body is constantly inconstant. Every year, every day, hell every minute is something new. Last year my cholesterol was alright, now it is through the roof. A few months ago my rosacea was fine and then suddenly I had a horrible flare. I go through cycles of hot/cold, hungry/satiated, tired/alert. It changes so frequently, and sometimes so subtly, I can’t keep up, I’m not even fully aware, even if it is something like a growing cancer or blood clot that imperils my very life. Above everything, I wish I could go back to a time when I was healthier and prettier. At least I would feel at ease if I could ‘keep what I have now’, but my body keeps changing.
2) Is something that is inconstant stressful or easeful? I could literally write volumes about my fear, stress, sorrow and loss — just focused on my body — and still it wouldn’t cover the half of it. Right this moment I await results of a skin biopsy, nervous that my long standing ‘spot’ morphed before my eyes, unbeknownst to me creeping from benign to malignant. The thing is, My Lord, in those moments I get a clean bill of health, in those moments I feel fit-as-a-fiddle and oh-so-pretty, I relish in this body: I primp it, preen it, travel in it and peacock around, and all the stress and anxiety of its sick/aging/loss side are nearly forgotten…
3) Drum roll please….Is something that is clearly not in your control, mega inconstant and epicly stressful fitting to be called ‘you’ or ‘yours’ or ‘your representative’? I don’t know Great Lord, it’s my body, it is so so so damn hard to see it as anything but ‘self’ or ‘mine’ or ‘me’. But I will share this…
The other night I was in the shower, looking down at a body that, let’s face it, has seen fitter and perkier days. It made me depressed to think about the loss of that old body and even more depressed to know that this new one –assuming I live long enough– would likely give way to something even more atrophied.  Sure I had a few good years of being at a physical prime, but relative to sub/post prime years how many were truly prime? How did I agree to sign-up for this sometimes-satisfactory-form, but more-time-unsatisfactory-form? And even if I signed-up for a ‘body rental’ for utility sake, why did I grasp at this body, and claim it ,and mine-ify the thing? Why did I get so bound-up, make it the foundation of a ‘fit/hot’  identity that couldn’t possibly last? If I am going to claim this body as mine, I should at least be claiming it in all its shifting, decaying, disaggregating states. If I am healthy Alana I am sick Alana. If I am pretty Alana I am ugly Alana. If I am baby Alana and teenage Alana and 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, …..Alana, don’t I also have to be corpse Alana? Maggot eaten Alana? totally disaggregated Alana?
2020 Retreat Part 1B — A Body that Disregards my Rules, like My Night Guard and Like My Teeth, Can’t be Mine

2020 Retreat Part 1B — A Body that Disregards my Rules, like My Night Guard and Like My Teeth, Can’t be Mine

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This contemplation is part of a series of exercises, derived from the Anatta-Lakkhana Sutra, that I did during my 2020 personal retreat. For more details please see the blog, Introduction to Contemplations From 2020 Personal Retreat.

To ‘celebrate ‘ my first day of retreat and to really make sure I had a through grasp on my homework assignment, I decided to do a little bonus work: In addition to comparing my bite guard to my teeth — 1 part of my body — which we saw in the last blog, I decided to also compare my bite guard to my whole body. So below is my HW from Day 1 Part B: My Body is Like My Bite Guard 

My Body is not under my control (it is not mine, it doesn’t act according to my rules and desires).
If my body were mine it would not become filthy and grimy or begin to smell. I wouldn’t need to spend a ton of time showering or brushing my teeth or washing my hair, I would simply always be clean.
If my body were under my control it wouldn’t soften and loose its shape, my skin would be firm, my body would be taunt my muscles wouldn’t atrophy and my boobs wouldn’t sag. Especially not from regular daily life, when I watch my diet and keep active and wear sunscreen.
If my body were under my control, my esophagus wouldn’t erode from reflux, I wouldn’t attract insects and viruses and bacteria that lead to my decay, the cartilage around my joints wouldn’t tear and crack. At the very least, my body would ‘hold-on and hold-out’ as long as I think I need it, so long as I want it, so long as I hope and expect to have it live.
If this body were under my control I could simply say, “body, please stop with the sagging, the smelling, the dirtying, the fattening, the atrophy — you are embarrassing me and taking up so much of my time with care and maintenance.”And upon saying that –upon ordering that– every part would be perfectly perky and clean and the right kinda plump. If this body were mine, it would listen when I implored it, “please, at the very least, live — don’t break, don’t die, don’t leave me high and dry. The least you can do is survive, if not thrive, given all the fitness and feeding and care and medications and vitamins…”
Body however is all, “Honey Badger Don’t Care…”, body makes it abundantly clear it is not under my control. My body requires regular washing because it lives in an environment filled with dust and dirt. My skin and body have begun to sag because the tissues of the body, can shift in composition (they can become more rigid/ softer, they can become more bloated and wet/drier, they can become hot and inflamed/they can cool, they can become more flexible and fluid/ fixed and immobile), change form, in this case becoming less solid and taunt.  This body is subject to being consumed by viruses, insects and bacteria because all four element objects are subject to being consumed. My esophagus can erode and my joints can tear all because the  the force of the liquids in stomach acid, a solids in bone can act on, and break, body parts. This is all totally normal.
“So Alana, is your body there a ‘forever-fixed-steady-state-kinda-thing’ or does it change and dis-aggregate and degrade?” Obviously Great Dharma Lord, it changes and dis-aggregates and degrades, if I just open up a photo album, or my medical chart, it has all the evidence I need.”
“And Alana, is something that changes and dis-aggregates and degrades stressful or easeful?” “So, so, so stressful My Lord. The care and feeding is time consuming and unpleasant. The sagging and the aging and the de-conditioning is an embarrassment. I stand in front of the mirror and lament the loss of my plump skin and thin/fit bod. I work to cover it up with clothes and make-up; I try to regain what I lost with workouts and botox and facials. Whatever small gains I can make give me momentary pleasure– hope– that is dashed when, inevitably my body shifts again. “
“The worst though is the fear, and the pain, and the fear of pain. I live in fear of the day that, just like my night guard, my body will break beyond repair. That a the force of a car bumper will crack open my body as the force of my jaw has the guard. Or that a bullet will pierce my body, as bone already has done to my joint.  I worry that a day may come that the tissues in my body shift into a cancer. Or that the plaques in my arteries block blood from flowing to my heart and cause a heart attack. I worry and worry, all while I hurt from the injuries already there. Hurt from the investigative colonoscopy and the mole biopsy. Fearing more hurt is to come.
 ” OK Alana, the qq I know you have been waiting for, ” If something is so clearly not in your control, if it is a changing, dis-aggregating, degrading, dying thing, if it is the source of your greatest suffering, can you actually regard that thing as ‘you’, or ‘yours’ or representative of you’? Seriously, can you say that body is what you are?”
 I’m sorry Great Lord, I’m still not totally at the ‘no’ yet, but I will say this much…This body doesn’t dirty or sag or break or die when I desire it to. It dirties or sags or breaks or dies when the conditions for dirtying/sagging/breaking/ dying are met. The result is that I suffer the pain of losing something I desire or the pain of getting something I don’t desire. The more I desire the harder I cling. The more I cling the harder I suffer. So perhaps it sin’t super smart to continue to cling so hard to something I clearly cannot keep. And in truth, I am clinging to a four element object, a composite of shifting components that, like all four element things with die and decay and return to the earth. How can I regard something empty of all but elements as me, as who I am, of representative of me, or anything else at all?
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