MN: This makes you think about how it could turn out if people we’ve wronged controlled how we were punished for those wrongs. Keep going until their revenge is satisfied. https://youtu.be/_flYlbBpSok

AD: Ugh, that is disturbing. I need to think on it more, but the thing that really jumps out at me is how scary vengeance can be if we allow it to run unfettered. We already know what becomes of the murdered in this story, but my other fear is what happens if I am the father?  Vengeance will blind people to any sense of conscience or consequence, then we open ourselves up to an endless retributive cycle.

What really drives this home to me is that in the movie, the viewer, because they begin the story where the murderer is already the victim, feels bad for the murder. But of course, if we saw him brutalizing a child would we feel the same? We are so colored by the perspective from which we see events. Of course, if I were the father, my perfect child raped and killed I would see myself as the victim. Over and over these rolls will flip and switch.

But we all are so fixated on us, our perspective and roll. I know for a fact, when I look at my relationship with my Mom, that by believing myself to be the hero, or the victim, or the one with a fixed roll of right (versus one that swaps and switches and is contingent on situation and perspective) is the source of endless struggles. I hurt her, she hurts me. It wasn’t till I at least began trying to shift my perspective that I could shift my auto response.

Vengeance I think requires the belief that I deserve vindication, I am in the right. It also doesn’t really see the cycle or the other side. And it is so passionate, it blinds us to consequences. In other words vengeance rests on a wrong view of permanence. Which of course, makes sense in that all our wrong views are grounded in not seeing the full picture of impermanence, but I don’t think I ever saw how it could work for vengeance before…

AD: Also…on a totally different topic. But watching this movie as an exploration of body as self/ identity is pretty poignant. What is interesting is the movie clearly takes pain out of the equation. It also takes needing the body for self-care out as the guy has care givers. It even takes body as a tool to live freely and do activities he likes out as he is a prisoner anyway. Really that leaves his devastation at losing his body specifically arising not out of particular functions but the idea of body as self. It is quite clear when they say is breaking point is losing ‘Little Willie”…

It is interesting to consider when the cumulative loss of parts equals loss of self. Can a collection of parts be a self if individual parts can go and we still think me and mine?

And probably most poignant, the loss of limb is a result of the guy’s past actions, of that there is no doubt. But his actual suffering arises because of his view of his body as self.

For me I suppose the suffering would lie in the fear that more of “me” could be taken at anytime. That if this body is subject to the whims of someone else to whittle away as they see fit, what does that say for my own power in this world? Something as basic as my body is not mine to command. It confirms my lack of control, of autonomy, of self-determination, when it is surgically whittled down at the arbitrary request of someone else.

I suppose to the point of karma really — that is all what the murderer took from the girl: her opportunity for self-determination. Her hope for a future, dependent on her body.

MN: There’s a LOT to process from this this film. It’s so disturbing yet brings a lot of our beliefs to light. TTP, vengeance, freedom, identity, self and self belongings, kamma, rules/laws created by society, right and wrong, blame, guilt, …

MN: I missed the “little willie” part – a lot of times, that’s what men believe makes them a man. many believe that they’re less of a man if they’re small, more of a man if large. or if they’re fertile and can get it up, they’re manly .. but infertile or impotent, and they’re not. They can lose limbs, but the one thing they can’t deal with losing is their “manhood.”

This is such food for thought. I especially feel the truth in this statement:

“And probably most poingnet, the loss of limb is a result of the guys past actions, of that there is no doubt. **But his actual suffering arises because of his view of his body as self.**”

So often I have seen that when I see someone “get what they deserve” I don’t feel as good about it as I thought I would. Because in the end, when we see anyone suffering, we know and can relate (because we’ve been through all kinds of suffering and hell realms) – and that recognition doesn’t make us feel good.

AD: This issue isn’t just for the boys, recently ( on the tail of finding that cervical cyst) I had a really powerful contemplation on my own lady parts. The full version is actually posted on the English HW line, but the punchline is this:

Being a woman is a deeply important part of my identity so clearly I need a vagina to make my claim of womanhood credible. But that leaves me depending on an utterly undependable body part to establish my claim of who I am. It is a part that causes me frequent discomfort and embarrassment and a part I need to make accommodations for in my every day life — how do I call it myself if it involves my needing to do things I don’t want to do, and need to make accommodations for?

What is more, I build my identity on an item that can literally be the death of me, that can force me to abandon the Alana identity I have worked so hard to build and nurture. And my lady parts may or may not be the end of me. But this body in one way or another definitely will be. What business do I have saying this body is who I am when it will die and wipe out my entire sense of Alana self along with it.

Finally, I really see that I claim this body, and it’s Lady parts, as a foundation for the fairytale future my imagination cooks up, this really is at the core the way my mind uses rupa –as a prop to make my self-spun story convincing. But the truth is it is a foundation so flimsy that a single doctors appointment can shake it to the core. How do I call this body me or mine if it isn’t going to give me the future I want. When in fact it definitely gives me the future I Do Not Want, ie death and disease.