Alana's Dharma Blog

My skin is not my own. If it were mine it would go unchanged, hold tight to the form I adore, it wouldn’t crinkle or wrinkle or sag with ease.

But in truth my skin has already shown the tell tale signs of ware, it has age spots, wrinkles , lines and sags. Despite all my lotions and potions and exercises and machines, the skin has assumed a shape I so not adore. All it took was excess heat, excess facial expressions, not enough moisture, the force of gravity, 4e toxins in the environment and my skin has become old looking.

At the very least, if my skin were truly mine it would protect me. It would do the job it was evolutionarily designed for and keep me safe. It would honor my intentions toward health and my efforts at care. Instead the very skin I need to keep me safe has begun to redden and change, become a sore, shift into a state that could be cancerous.

If the skin were mine I could order it to maintain a certain, youthful and healthful state. But precisely because the skin can fail to keep me safe — may actually expose me to cancer and infection — it is clearly not mine to claim I control.

Is the skin constant or inconstant? Clearly it is inconstant. It changes texture, look, color. It becomes blotchy, wrinkled, it has begun to sag. Worst of all, it can become infected. The cells can change and mutate in ways that are dangerous and can spread –it can become cancerous.

Is that which is inconstant easeful or stressful? Oh the skin is a continual source of stress fro me. I stress about how it looks. How it feels. I stress about how others will judge me based on it. About how I judge myself. I look in the mirror and my skin makes be feel shame some of the time.

What is worse is the stress, the physical pain, when my skin becomes sick. I have been stressed about my changing mole for weeks now. I stress and feel anxious right now as I await the biopsy results.

There was the stress about my nose spots being cancer. Stress when my rosacea itches and burns and looks like shit. Stress I might get a cold sore before a important event. Stress that time in highschool I got a huge infected abscess on my face. Stress when I need to find a new dermatologist when I move, someone who I can trust with my face. Stress and deep sorrow when I couldn’t get botox over the pandemic, I couldn’t get in for fillers soon enough after it ended. Stress that people, by seeing my skin would see my weakness and inability to control my body. Like my face was a sign of my diseased self.

And is it fitting to regard that which is inconstant, stressful and subject to change as this is mine, this is myself, this is who I am?

Here are my thoughts on this issue: Sometimes the skin has a form I like and at other times it has a form I don’t like. A form that can put me in danger. If I claim the skin as me, as mine, don’t I need to claim both times? And do I really think something I don’t like, something that embarassaes me, something that can kill me, can deprive me of a life with all I have worked so hard for, all I love, is mine? It clearly doesn’t represent me. It clearly doesn’t act solely to my benefit and in my interest. How do I justify claiming it as mine?

Eventually this skin will slough off my body, rot, return to the earth. It is merely a consumable good. Something used for a time. It is already showing the signs of being consumed/ altered and used up: Rosacea is from my skin being consumed by mites. The wrinkles arise because my own body has consumed my collagen stores and because I have consumed toxins that accumulate in my body and shift the cellular forms. Acne is consumption by bacteria. And cancer is my body’s cells shifting form in response to 4es in my body, in the environment and growing as healthy skin cells are consumed by altered ones.  If one part of my body is a consumable, isn’t all of it?

If It is just something to use. To use up. How do I think this skin will follow my rules, be altered, preserved, shift on my terms? Does 4es in the world obey my terms? If it is for use, it is usable sometimes in some circumstances. What object in this world is usable all the time, in all circumstances?

Considering the extreme stress caused by my claiming my skin. Caused by my deep desire to depend on something that definitionally is a ‘sometimes’. Considering that the kin, this body, acts and shifts and changes along independent of my claim or my stress.. Aren’t I truly suffering for free?

Like the phone strap, this body is not mine.

My body is not under my control — all the lab work suggests it is wearing out faster than I want it to. I fear that at the current rate of wear it will become useless to me sooner rather than later, at least sooner than I am ready to part with it, while I still need it. This body is not my own because it will depart from me on its time and not on mine.

The body is not under my control: If it were it wouldn’t be showing signs of inflammation, there wouldn’t be flagged CRp tests, elevated antibodies, high cholesterol and high iron. If this body were under my control, there wouldn’t be these classic signs of wear. Signs that cause me to worry that this body is in danger of breaking.

But the reality is, I can’t count on having this body going forward. The presence of bacteria and viruses and chemicals in its environment are causing it to shift into inflammatory states. The genetic defects, already present in the body at birth, are causing high cholesterol. The exposure to toxic food and drink and air has contributed to changes in the cells of my body, causing them to be autoreactive.  If this body were mine to control, to even use as I see fit, its use wouldn’t be altered by pesky shit like genetics or diet or environment. It would simply continue to run like a well oiled machine.

At least, if this body were really mine, I would know exactly what was wrong. It wouldn’t just be mystery markers. I wouldn’t need to wait for more information, I would just know right now what was wrong. I would then be able to fix it. Because if this body were mine it would be within my power to ensure that that it stayed with me, at least as long as I needed it. It wouldn’t simply be able to decay and get inflames and autoreactive and diseased on its terms. Terms that are definitely not my own.

Is the body constant or inconstant: Clearly it is inconstant. The blood tests were all normal before, they have changed only in the last few years. Pelvic exams were all normal before, a new growth appeared on my cervix in the last 2 years. If the body were constant, I wouldn’t be waiting on more results, on new changes, that would clarify the nature of this body’s disease. If these markers were constant, everyone with them would have an autoimmune disease, or a clearly cancerous polyp, there wouldn’t be so much variability between people and labs.

Is what is constant stressful or easeful. Obviously super stressful. I am so afraid of these changes. I am afraid of what they mean. I feel confused. I want to act, but don’t know what to do. I am working hard –fasting, changing diet, to try and change my body back. Or at least keep if from changing any further. But the uncertainty of the results of my effort makes them even harder. I am, constantly, stressed out.

And is it fitting to regard something that is inconstant, stressful and subject to change “mine”, “myself” or what I am?

Urggh I so desperately want to feel no in my heart. Till then, here is my thoughts:

I didn’t always have this body, there was a history of this world before I was born. The body is something I acquired. What is more is I will definitely lose this body in the future. It doesn’t matter at all that I don’t want to lose this body. It doesn’t matter that all these signs seem to indicate the possibility that I may loose this body sooner rather than later, at least sooner than I had hoped. Sooner than I imagined. Well before I think I am done needing it to have the life I want, the life I imagine.

Even while I have this body to use, to call my own, it continually slips into states I despise, i.e. states that create laboratory markers that stress me out. States that embarrass. States I believe are decidedly not me: Just look at all the sagging, the pimples, the bad haircuts, the eye bulge, the weight gain, the pain and the illness.

I try to dictate the outcomes of this body, I struggle to preserve it: I manage the diet, the exercise, the meds, the sleep. But despite both my desire and my efforts, I can not control the outcome. In fact, my efforts often have the opposite effect of my desired outcome –moving my body into states of dis-ease and decay. Or I am forced to make tradeoffs –meds that decrease one risk but increase another for example. In spite of all my efforts, my work and my stress, in the end this body will reach a state I can no longer use it. Then, ready or not, it will depart from me.

This Phone Strap is Not Mine

My phone strap is not under my control — it is wearing out faster than I want it to. At its current rate of wearing it is likely to become useless to me before I am ready to part with it, while I think I still need it. This phone strap is not my own because it will depart from me on its time and not on mine.

This phone strap is not under my control: If it were it would not be chipping and fraying before my eyes. It would not be loosing its beauty, its sleekness. At the very least, if it were truly my own, it would retain the glittery sides I like the best. But alas, as a result of the friction of the solid strap, against my solid wrist, the leather is fraying and cracking and glittering in the course of normal wear, of doing its job allowing me to carry the phone.

This phone strap is not under my control: If it were the leather would not stretch and weaken. Becoming easier to slip from my wrist and, eventually break apart all together. But alas, the heat of my hand, the sweat of my body, cause the strap to change shape. The weight and pressure of the phone it holds slowly stretching and weakening the leather.

This strap is not under my control: If it were it wouldn’t grow filthy, it wouldn’t be a “high touch item” a possible vector for viruses and disease. But alas, simply being in the environment were dirt and viruses and bacteria exist make the strap a vector for them. The 4e strap carrying the 4e contaminants that move onto my 4e body with contact between the solids.

Most of all, if my phone strap were truly my own, I could count on it going forward. I would know I could continue to wear it and use it to carry my phone in a fashionable way. But the fact that it is already looking tired, stretched and dirty, are sure signs the strap will not stay with me forever. I look at the strap and worry “when”, I plot and plan to replace it, “knowing” my need for the strap will outlive this particular strap.

Is the strap constant or inconstant? Clearly with its wearing and chipping and stretching and dirtying it is inconstant.

And is something inconstant stressful or easeful?

Clearly it is stressful: I look at the strap and feel disappointed, embarrassed to be needing to carry around something so shabby, something doesn’t jive with my high fashion, buttoned up alana identity. I worry about when it is time to get a new one. If I can find one that is as suitable as this one was back when it was new. I feel forced to exhibit special care of it. Take the time to clean it, to be gentile with it.

And is it fitting to regard something which is inconstant, stressful and subject to change mine?

I am working on getting to a no. For now here are my thoughts:

How can something that wasn’t always “mine” in the past, and won’t always be “mine in the future, be mine right now?

In truth, I didn’t always have this strap. Before, I carried my phone with other straps or other devices. When I was younger, I didn’t even have a phone at all. But now that I am using this strap, I have become attached to it.. Now, I worry about its wear and I worry about what I will do when it can no longer be used. I worry about this even though I was fine without it before.

I worry that I still need the strap, but it is wearing despite my need.  How can an item that wears when I still “need” it actually be my own? I consider how to fix it, how to replace it. Why, because I imagine I need it in the future based on my use of it in the present. I try to dictate the outcome of the object based on my perceived need rather than on the realities –the composition and change of the strap itself. But, it is impossible to deny that the day will come –sooner or later — that the phone strap is no longer with me.

The reality is, this strap will wear independent of my desire, my “need”. And while it does wear, even in the time I consider it mine,  it will shift through states that embarrass me, even states that endanger me, states that fail to meet my needs or my desired function. While I consider it mine, I will struggle and fight to preserve it, to keep it in a form I like best. Only to lose it despite all my efforts in the end. Then, ready  or not, the strap will depart from me, it will reach a state I can no longer use it.