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An Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Program: Rupa+Nama = Aha! Contemplation After the 2019 Retreat (Part 4 )

An Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Program: Rupa+Nama = Aha! Contemplation After the 2019 Retreat (Part 4 )

Dear Readers, this blog is a direct continuation of the previous so, if you haven’t read last week’s entry then please do head back there and read it before you continue here.

A little summery/context/extra info:  The dialog below essentially captures the process through which I began to understand how the 4 elements work to make up every physical form in this world. Truth be told, for a long practicing Buddhist, I had a really poor grasp on this ‘101 topic’ prior to this contemplation. After I started really understanding the 4 elements I came to see my practice had no chance of success without this key understanding –how can I expect to become unattached to my possessions if I don’t even understand what they actually are? How will I stop believing the things I call ‘mine’ are subject to my rules until I understand what the actual rules of the world that govern all forms are?  How  am  I supposed to internalize the decay/death of objects when I don’t see the fundamental building blocks of those objects are exactly the same as my own?

I spent an entire day just trying to understand the way 4 elements come together into particular forms and then dis-aggregate, feed and rearrange into other forms. I started with simple objects, coins and coffee and went on to trees, bees, and then compound objects like cars and cows.  For example:

A Tree: arises from the earth, is nourished by water and solid minerals and requires heat to synthesize nutrients and circulate (wind) those nutrients through the tree and grow (wind). The solid of the trunk , protects and provides channels for the sap (liquid) to move (wind) up to the leaves so they can effectively capture sunlight (fire) to photosynthesize nutrients. A shift in the balance of the elements creates change in the tree and if the shift is sufficient it causes death.   If there is insufficient water in the earth to move up the roots (solid) of the tree, it will die and its elements will go back to the soil.  An absence of heat causes sap (liquid) to flow (move) less freely  and the solid of the leaves  becomes more fragile and wind  blows them from the tree where they decay and nourish the bugs.  If a rot softens the solid trunk of a tree it can no longer protect the softer inner layers and it is prone to being consumed by insect. A tree requires wind to carry the seed to the ground where it grows, but a hurricane can uproot and kill it.

Several weeks later I came back to this topic and did a little exercise in which I analyzed each of my body parts to understand it in terms of 4 elements. I then considered how imbalances in each of these parts, and then ultimately my body as a whole would lead to sickness and death.  So For example: my lungs are solid tissue requiring a certain body temperature to move and blood to be nourished so that it can move air through my body. As an asthmatic, I know that solid particles (dust) can move into my airways and cause a liquid to form in my lungs that creates greater resistance to solid tissue’s moment and makes it hard to move the air I need to survive through my body. I have had fish tanks and seen the little air hoses become clogged, start filling with water, cracking and ‘die’ because they can no longer move air into the tank. So can’t I also die if my balance of elements becomes sufficiently  changed?

In addition to softening my belief that I am somehow  exempt from death and decay this exercise also helped bolster my understand of exactly why all form is temporary (impermanent). The elements are constantly shifting and changing balance and effecting each other. The introduction of a particle of dust can shift the 4es of my lungs. No 4e object is a closed system in and of itself, the interaction with other objects, and the shifting that comes with changes in the environment, and the  propensity for each element to erode back to the earth  is the REASON they will never be stable. They will never be ‘mine’ forever.

But…I am way way ahead of myself here. So, if you want the nitty gritty of how I got here, see below:

How the 4 Elements Work –The Basics

A: I don’t understand the 4 elements. Can you perhaps give me an example of how you would use them to talk about a tree or fish or bird?

MN: Everything is made up of the 4 elements. A tree requires sunlight to grow, needs water to live, breathes in air, and draws from minerals in the dirt and it has a solid form.

Fish require water to live, air to breathe and internal air pressure to tolerate various depths, heat to stay alive and moving, and is comprised of solid matter. A larger fish eats a smaller fish, and in doing so absorbs the smaller fish’s 4 elements. When the big fish poops, it releases some of those 4 elements back into nature. When it dies and decomposes, its 4 elements return to the earth.

MN:  Try to see how all things are comprised of the four elements. For instance, like the tree we consume the 4 elements: we need air to breathe and air pressure to function, water to drink and blood to flow through our veins, solid foods (made up of 4 elements, as well) to build up and sustain our own solid bodies, and heat to stay warm and flexible. An imbalance of any of these, we get sick and die. Absent any of these we instantly die. When we die, the four elements return to the earth – our corpses fertilize the earth and plants and animals eat our discarded 4 elements.

Try to understand the role rupa and the 4 elements have in defining particular qualities in order to understand whether these qualities truly *only* exist in the mind.

–How do “hot” or “cold” relate to the tangible form and the four elements?

— How are “safe”/”unsafe” or “good”/”bad” or “skilled”/”unskilled” determined by the tangible form and the four elements?

–How can we feel the same things, have a general consensus of what is “tolerable”/”intolerable” among species? Why is it different from humans to various animal or plant species? What is the role of rupa here?

—What is the role of rupa in shaping view? What is at the foundation of view?

—What is the relationship between reality and view? Is there overlap or are they mutually exclusive?

A: QQ: just once– how would you think about the elements of a coin in a toss?

So the coin is solid, its toss depends on air, where are liquid and heat in a coin? Does every item need to have all 4 of the elements?

A: Wait maybe when fire is applied to a coin it becomes liquid. So heat was actually required to take the original metal, liquify it, and turn it into a coin shape?

MN: Yes. Like you said, in forming the coin, there are solid metals forged in heat, cooled with air, shaped while in liquid form.

A: So do you need to see all four elements in every object

MN: Yes

A: Is it because everything is all 4 elements in different proportions?

MN: Yup

A: I like this hot and cold game 😉… Do the proportions dictate the particular rules of each object? So if a really coin has a particular proportion of solid such that when flipped the air acts on it to give a probability of getting heads 50 Percent of the time. But…a false coin, which has a different proportions of solid could interact with air such that it flips heads at a much higher percent of the time?

MN: When it comes to a coin toss, whether metal coin, plastic coin, or glass coin, the probability of heads or probability of tails is contingent on what?

A: The interaction of the solid and wind elements I think?

MN: The coins are forged in different ways, combining different proportions of the 4 elements. There is so much impermanence involved in this process, even when the same type of coin is replicated in a single factory’s assembly line. Each coin is the same, yet unique in terms of its composition.

Then when the coin is tossed, those slight discrepancies in the four elemental composition will factor into the conditions that cause it to show heads or tails. For instance, a coin that is “heads” heavy may be more likely to show heads. But ultimately chances are it will end up with a mostly random combo of heads and tails.

And yes, the physical conditions at the time of toss also factor into the results. The wind element, the moisture in our fingers and the air, the weight of the coin and the surface it lands on, the heat and how it reacts to that particular material.

So, how do the 4 elements factor into probability and impermanence? How do we use tangibles and the 4 elements to determine, value, and define things?

A: How about something like coffee? In its liquid state fuels my solid forms movement through a solid worlds

MN: Coffee is also 4 elemental, once in our body, the 4 elements of coffee break down and travel to their respective teams… liquid from coffee feeding liquid in our body, solid feeding solid, air feeding air, heat feeding heat

AD: Ok so a diamond with higher clarity and shine is more highly valued because it is more rare. Can we say that the heat and pressure in the earth acted upon a particular diamond of a particular proportion of the elements and resulted in more shine and clarity? How do I get more nuanced?

So, we need to think about not just the elements in the current state of the object but also in the process of forming and the process of dissolution?

Is it possible to understand the proportions of say one diamond versus another is a nuances way or is it sufficient to see they are different?

So if diamond a has more clarity than diamond b than do I need to understand what element and in what proportions cause clarity? Is it even possible? Or is it sufficient to see the difference and understand there is an elemental cause?

Can I go a step further and see that whatever elemental difference causes great clarity in diamond A, that difference began in the formation. Creates a different perception in a human in it’s current state and will solve in a different way/ proportion of elements back to the earth? All along it will act differently RE; shine?

So there is however only so clearly or cloudy a diamond can get.

MN: Just a basic understanding is fine. For instance, if the diamond has more or less clarity, it could be due in part to the pressure (wind element) where it was forged, the mineral composition in the ground, as well as the moisture and heat in that location. You don’t need to know precise scientific reasons, just the trends the elements follow. Wind element contributes to___ features, water element contributes to…

The differences appear in all stages: birth, aging, sickness, death

A: So maple syrup (yes I’m at a farmers market) has liquid but it flows which is viscosity, a combo of it’s water and air. Or it’s water and earth spectrum which is influenced by current heat and air. It has solid elements and it changes from liquid to solid at certain heat leveled so in the bottle I see it has a level of heat in it that is responsible for it’s current viscosity. It has a flavor that that is derived  of it’s solid parts and liquid parts…what else?

MN: Maple syrup is tree sap and part of the tree, the tree grows by eating minerals in the dirt and increasing its solid form, by drinking water, by breathing air, and by being warm enough to survive. The syrup is made by boiling and cooling, all of which depend on liquid, heat, air, and earth elements

A: So it’s like a paint pallet. An artist will know a color and oil versus water type, thickness, the ratios of paints together and the type of canvas you put it on will all determine the characteristics of the final painting?

MN: Yeah –Even paints are 4 elemental. Colors, as well. We are each a piece of 4 elemental art. Only there is no “final”, we are living art, shifting and changing all the time

A: QQ: am I right that it is impossible to think about just the elements in an object without considering how the elements and elements in other items  have acted on the object and how the object will act on the elements and elements in other objects in turn:

Example fish doesn’t just have blood it needs water in ocean and it acts on the ocean by peeing.

Or tree had air that allows roots to spread that act upon the movement in the soil? I ask to be sure I am correct in thinking about the whole picture bc I am having trouble isolating a fish without thinking about ocean

MN:  All interrelated, not isolated.

Everything feeds off of everything’s four elements. We eat certain meats bc we cant get those nutrients (aka 4 elements) on our own. We eat cow meat to get grass nutrition  (our 4E eats cow 4E), eat nuts from trees for certain vitamins (vitamins=4E), mosquitoes eat our 4E in sucking our blood, flies eat our 4E in eating our skin. Goats lick the mineral salts from rocks to get their 4E, leopards eat those goats, leopards 4E back to earth when they poop and pee and after death.

We are all connected. Like that pocahontas song!

A: I will say rupa is a straight forward contemplation, but pretty powerful too…I generally think the world is so exciting, but today I started thinking it’s not as alluring as I thought, it’s just the same shit mixed up in different mold.

An Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Program: Rupa+Nama = Aha! Contemplation After the 2019 Retreat (Part 3)

An Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Program: Rupa+Nama = Aha! Contemplation After the 2019 Retreat (Part 3)

Dear Readers, this blog is a direct continuation of the previous so, if you haven’t read last week’s entry then please do head back there and read it before you continue here.

A Roundabout Way to Discovering I Need to Understand Rupa+Nama

MN: What do you feel about this?

https://youtu.be/bMYGYY-WunE

A: So on the video I feel nothing extreme. But the reason is I don’t, in my heart, view eggs as babies so no fodder to excited my heart. But I have had a pretty big breakthrough on the birds already. Punchline: just because I don’t see a cause it doesn’t mean one doesn’t exist.

MN: Love this

A: Very briefly, on another note: I really saw quickly I cried about the birds because I see myself in the birds. I have known for a while there is hidden little Alana that feels like a victim of the world whose suffering seems causeless, and so not fair (she is in homeless Alana story too). At least in this life I think it all starts with my borderline personality disorder mom, who would be fine one sec and then freak the next, for what seemed like no reason at all. I spent most of my childhood in terror for myself and then trying to protect my brother. Now though I know she has been diagnosed with a disease that is at least a factor in this behavior, so it’s not without cause.

Deeper: Take the mammogram story, I saw my picture was incomplete (thought only possible outcomes were macrocalcifications that were worse or stable) because I was bound to imagine (4) outcomes in only the limited way my picture allowed (based on memory, 3s). When another outcome happened, I saw it is not just that anything can happen, but that the reason I don’t understand that fact is because my view of the world is so limited.

Now, though I see I can apply the same lesson to causes (since causes are just past effects) all  my assumptions that abuse/suffering is for ‘no reason’ versus abuse/suffering for being for a reason arise from my limited picture (permanently stuffed with my standards, shoulda and colored by my Alana colored glasses) versus complete picture of the world.

MN: I like this about seeing that your view is limited

A: I am watching for changes since the contemplation (which as a reminder to you readers, was something Neecha asked me to do at the end of the last post so she could help me further) and feeling 100 percent sure on freeing-up my ideas around worthy and good; at the wat this AM I did not think “not worthy” when a friend  anamodannaed with me and I did not think everything LP said in his teaching this morning was a personal commentary on my moral failings.

MN: This is good, can you pinpoint why though?

A: On good, the uproot came from contemplating on my need to be ‘good daughter’ by always making my mom happy: I see that I made-up the standards of being a good daughter someone who always makes mom happy (because I think by making her happy I can be protected from her wrath) and then kept trying to live up to my imagined standard, suffering because Inevitably failed since her happiness is in her heart.

A: Deserve was easy, I didn’t think I deserve a bed at retreat, but I got one so clearly my concept of deserve does not govern the world.

MN: If you see that your mom’s happy is in her heart, do you feel unable to make your mom happy, then?

MN: Inevitably failed, so does that mean you’ll always fail?

MH: So what does govern the world?

A: I Inevitably fail because I can’t always make my mom happy and there is an unspoken always in my belief that a good daughter makes her mom happy.

I sometimes make mom happy, but not because of my standards of good daughter. But because my form + my actions, in certain environment/ circumstances, meets the standard for ‘happy’ that my mom has in her own heart.

This l think is one angle of how my heart world and the real world are connected.

To answer that question more broadly…rupa’ (real world) is like food pellets in a video game. My character (memory and imagination, 3&4) eats them to get bigger and to get powers to win the game. It is like rupa is some conduit material in which signals run 2 ways. I want to make mom happy so she loves me and I feel like a good daughter. So l use rupa to transmit the message. I buy her gifts, I take her on trips, I do shit in the real world. This is food pellets for influencing my video game. Then I read the rupa she ‘gives back’, a smile, a frown, a gift and word and use it to confirm my success making her happy and therefore being a good daughter. This is food pellets making me big. If I feel like either I lack the rupa tools to make  my Mom happy (and thereby convince myself of my goodnes), or that the rupa of her response ( facial expressions for example) don’t signal my success then shit isn’t how it “should be” and I get angry. Something like this is how the heart world and the real one connect. Still need time to clarify a bit more

A: I don’t yet know exactly what governs the world. But I suspect it is something like that video game world where everyone is trying to collect food pellets (rupa’) to get bigger and have powers and then prove just how big they are by testing their powers in interaction with other players.

MN: You’re on the right track with the rupa and nama connection. Rupa is tangible form, nama is the intangibles: feeling, memory, imagination, sensation . Just have to sort it out a bit more.

A: Anyway, all this is part of what governs connection between heart and real. What governs real I know the answer is Karma, cause an effect, arising and ceasing, that was then and this is now, but my heart isn’t fully convinced. I know I need more evidence

A: On the topic of watching for changes since the contemplation:

1) I am less likely to get runaway imagination with Eric and talking about our future. Example, he said our fantasy dog was a bread I don’t care for and I didn’t even bother to argue because I saw so clearly what idiot would argue over a fantasy dog.

2) Seeing other conditions like what to eat where to go lessen but not sure because could be post retreat daze, it happens to me sometimes. I’ll keep you updated I feel like I need to test in the wild not my imaginations.

3) I am seriously less sure what I believe is really true. Not 100 percent yet, but last night we went to a dinner and a flickering neon was hurting my eyes so I asked to change tables. The waiter pointed to one just a foot or so away and said it was the only one so we could move there. My first though was it’s still so close to the light it won’t make any difference. Immediately, before I spoke, I saw it might. So I said we would try it. In truth, it was a little better, but still hurting. But it wasn’t the same…

A: Overnight, I decided to revisit the topic of good because it feels a little murky and I suspect it’s a huge key for me. The thing is, I know it is not in a situation, but in my heart…When LP moved his hand and asked where slow was I saw that if it couldn’t be found in a hand. It arises in my mind based on my own interpretation which is based on context and a multitude  of things that move faster and slower.

Even though I see good lives in my heart, not the situation, I still feel there is some judgement in my heart that is correct. And even if I see that my changing picture of the world (like geese, more info) changes my judgement, I still believe there is a complete picture that exists that if I saw would allow me to judge. And I still feel that judgement could be correct even if it is different from what happens in the actual world. And even if I see the same judgement isn’t appropriate in all circumstances because causes and conditions are different I feel that case by case I can make a correct one in my heart.

I suspect it is because I don’t really understand where the judgment comes from. Or I know it is me but I don’t clearly see the mechanics. Resultantly, I don’t really see the connection between the heart world and the real world.

I have already gotten to the fact that possible is an important condition for my idea of goodness. And my idea of possible comes from memory. It is why before I saw heard a story about a Thai lute maker generously giving free music classes and helping feed and educate kids in his village, I never thought I had to do that to be good, but after I heard about it I felt burdened by ‘one more good I had to be now that I saw that good was possible’. But I can’t seem to get further than this. I can’t quite see exactly how imagination works with this.

MN: Why do you think the lute maker is a good person, or what do you think that what he was doing was good?

MN: And when things exist in your heart, is there any overlap with the real world? Or are your views and reality mutually exclusive?

MN: The more I think about it, the more I think that what is missing is the conclusion.  It is like you’re saying:

I thought qualities like “safe,” “good,” or “worthy” were determined by tangible, worldly cues – but now I realize that those qualities are defined in my mind, they don’t exist in those tangible things in an absolute way.

So if your initial assumption is incorrect, then what is correct? That everything exists in our minds? But if that is absolutely true, how is it that we feel can similar things (disgust over a dirty cafe bathroom, touched by generosity, etc), and how can we feel dissimilar things (you are afraid of A but I am not, I find B useful but you do not)? What is the relationship between reality and view? Is there overlap? Or is it really mutually exclusive, as it seems you’ve found it to be?

A: It is because cold does exist and so does hot. But where on the spectrum I find any particular cup of water is based on my own interpretation of the temp of that water in the moment. Which arises based on my experience and perceived needs. Someone else can think that same cup is cold or hot based on their own relative situation. But in no case will their assessment and mine be exactly the same ( because we are each subject to different factors and conditions from which we make the judgment,). But the sammutti of the words hot and cold has something to do with why it may feel the same or different as mine????? Reaching here

So in sum we can all read rupa’, but our thresholds are what is different. My threshold is what is in my heart and that changes based on circumstances. Or rather it is not that hot exists and cold exists, but that temperature exists and it exists on a graduated scale. This is impermanence.

MN: Keep thinking about this. Because if everything is in each of our individual minds and it doesn’t really exist elsewhere, why can we have consensus on the moment when water turns “hot” or “warm” or “cold”?

And what is “hot” or “cold” or “clean” or “dirty”, really, if it doesn’t exist how you once thought?

A: Because we can have similar enough causes and conditions in a particular moment that for that time our thresholds across individual more or less agree. Hot or cold or clean or dirty is a relative term I suppose…

I’m stuck…

A: It is something that changes. It changes in the world and it changes in my heart. In the world it changes based on the rules of rupa’. So it will freeze at 0 and boil at 100, in my heart it changes based on my personal particulars.

So If I just jump out of the hot spring that is at 102 degrees into water that is 99 degrees the new ware is cold, If I jump from the snow into 99 degrees water it is hot.

MN: Is hot and cold generally the same for humans? For instance, desert temperatures are hot, arctic temperatures are cold.

A: I suppose it is in that we all have a body

MN : And the thresholds for human bodies…?

A:  And like water boiling at a certain temp, there is certainly a temp where we humans will experience hot or cold

MN: Is human hot and cold the same is kangaroo hot and cold? Or penguin hot and cold?

A: But if I am an Inuit I might have a different threshold for cold than a Miami person. Penguin and python definitely have different thresholds, not just for what is comfortable but what is actually livable

MN: Agreed. So what does this tell us? In terms of “hot” and “cold” What is the basis for determining these sammuti conventions?

A: Our experiences, our needs, our form

Try again: our types

No, I’m not yet sure what that means

But types feels right

MN: Is “hot” for humans a mere arbitrary definition, relatively defined? Is “hot” for penguins, monkeys, snakes, turtles, whales, lions a mere arbitrary definition, relatively defined?

Is there really nothing in “hot”? Does it really not exist? Does it only exist in the mind?

If it is indeed only in our minds, then if we don’t think it, then it won’t exist?

A: Fuck thanx. Ok it does exist and our rupa’ as humans defines it somehow

But what exact degree is comfortable or desirable is in my heart?

That degree I would actually call hot arises on my experiences

That somehow is not clear…But I know we are bound by rules of rupa

MN: Focus on rupa, the 4 elements. Rupa versus nama. Dont limit yourself to humans. Look at all living things, like how I asked about different animals. Humans have too many layers to see through in order to get to the raw truth. But with animals it is more factual and straightforward

A: Any other tips on exactly what the Four elements means?? Can I think in terms of atoms and laws of physics and chemistry?

MN: Atoms and molecules are too complicated! They didn’t need that for enlightenment during the Buddha’s time, or in the Thai back country, so we don’t either.

Try to see what role the 4 elements play in defining a thing or a concept. How does it work with the mind? How does it work apart from the mind?

Alternate ways to see the elements

The earth element – solid matter

The water element – liquid

The wind element – movement, pressure

The fire element – warmth

A: Thank you

MN: The more I think of it, the more you’re just lacking a conclusion, and that’s probably because the rupa was sacrificed for the focus on the nama intangibles. But they must go hand in hand. My assessment is that if you can understand rupa’s role in your newfound understanding, it’ll balance out.

 

 

 

An Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Program: Rupa+Nama = Aha! Contemplation After the 2019 Retreat (Part 2)

An Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Program: Rupa+Nama = Aha! Contemplation After the 2019 Retreat (Part 2)

Dear Readers, this blog is a direct continuation of the previous so, if you haven’t read last week’s entry then please do head back there and read it before you continue here.

Following my big retreat contemplation, Mae Neecha was a massive help ‘course correcting ‘ and rounding out my contemplation. For the next  week  or so she was my  virtual sherpa, helping prod me, guide me and answer questions through an ongoing Line Chat. There is so much content in this Chat, I am going to do my best to break it into ‘bite-sized’ portions over the next few blogs at natural breaking points. I am also going to edit and trim a little bit in the interest of space/time and add a few highlights/headers if I think something needs to be particularly called-out. But, though it is quite an unusual format for this blog, I am going to keep as much intact as possible and share a transcript of our conversation.

I am choosing to go this rout for a few key reasons: 1)  I believe the thinking process –the getting stuck, and lost and needing to pivot and try a new line of thinking and  little-by-little discovering — is just as revealing as the ultimate conclusions; 2) I was so in the ‘zone’ for the few days after retreat, this line conversation, and my practice,  was essentially continual — I thought, I reached-out when I had either a question or thought I had an answer. As a result, this transcript is pretty unique in my own notebook because it is a ‘real-time’ record of wisdom dawning, not just a recording of what I remembered and wanted to write down at a later time.  So,  even though it makes for a not-so-easy read,  I want these blogs to preserve the dialogue and not just be a neatly summed-up conclusion (although I will offer a synthesis of all of this and where it took me towards the end of this chapter if you do just prefer to wait).  So buckle-up…its another Buddhisty ride ;).

My Guess on The Origin of the Contemplation and the Need to Test/Observe Myself to Explore It’s Implications

MN: Upon reviewing what you’ve written here (and not what i interpreted from what you told us today) my question is – is it really as absolute as you think it is? That it is all in your heart?

It seems that before, you thought your thoughts and the world were one, inseparable. But now that you’re seeing the separation between reality and your reality, is it a complete separation?  Entirely different? Wholly unrelated?

A:  Thank you … I guess  maybe went too far in the other direction…

On the birds — there is still an Alana that feels a victim/sorry for myself that  the birds brought out. Testing my feelings and thinking more about this, I think I actually uprooted 2 Biggie’s for me:goodness and deserve.  The rest I will work on in the context of bringing a bit more balance to my view. I was in such a deep contemplative  state (never had that happen before) it’s like a dream where more stuff is coming back to me in pieces. There is way more here–like for the first time I was actually able in my mind to share my merit and to take joy in other people’s accomplishments, I guess because I wasn’t worried they would take away from my worthiness or add to my pile of good mountains I needed to scale. Anyway, I am going to keep at it. For a few hours there I felt so free and eyes opened. It was nice and a good motivator to keep on keeping on. I will consider the connection between my reality and outside reality as clearly there must be one or karma wouldn’t exist. Any tips on where exactly to start?

MN:  You’re already on the right track – it seems that you just need to shake it a bit so everything settles. I’d think more about the birds, as that is clearly a point that needs a bit of adjustment. Whatever snags tells us that there needs to be some balancing.  See if you can apply your new understanding to various past issues, and present issues. I’m interested to hear about the progress and any changes you notice.

MN: Before that night, did you have any outstanding phobias to fix? How do you feel about your phobias now, compared to before

A:  On phobias, none that were that extreme…But, I think I know what may have kicked all this off…last week I had to go in for a ‘you turned 40 mammogram’ and I was anxious. Back story is I had a mammogram in my 30s for boob pain. The scan showed no problem with the boob that hurt but microcalcifications in the other breast.

Usually they are benign, not always. I followed them with regular screenings for a few years when my doc and I decided they looked stable so should stop mammograms due to risks and wait to go back till now. But when I went to make the appointment I got scared I had made the wrong decision about not keeping up with annual scans. The mammogram was fine and I asked the radiologist about the calcifications. She said they had all but disappeared, that it was normal for that to happen sometimes.

Before the scan I had been reminding myself of the impermanence of the outcome. I thought, very binary, the calcifications can be stable or be worse. I was stuck on that view. But after the radiologist told me the calcifications disappeared I immediately realized my real wrong view. I never imagined these calcifications disappearing. In my picture of the world I didn’t even know that was a thing. But when I heard the results it was the first time I truly had my heart touched by the fact that absolutely anything can happen.

I don’t know why I think that was the catalyst of the zone, but somehow it feels right.

MN: Was it something that hit you especially hard, realizing that the option that actually happened was not one of the 2 options you were prepared for?

A: Yes. I have been trying to collect evidence on this idea of really honestly anything is possible. But nothing stuck like the mammogram. So so clear. Since my picture was incomplete, I was bound to think about outcomes in only the limited way my picture allowed. When another outcome happened I saw it is not just that anything can happen, but that the reason I don’t understand that fact is because my view of the world is so limited.

That I think is why when you tell me to connect my heart to the world I agree. I still have two big weakness on this:

  1. That like those geese in the nature video we watched (where baby geese had to jump off a cliff and some of them die), everything has a reason (in the video it is clear the geese nest on high to avoid predators that eat eggs but when the eggs hatch the babies, yet unable to fly, must jump from high cliffs in order to head down to the beach were their food supply is found, with these habits at least some of the geese in a litter live thought some die). But since I don’t see those reasons, I feel it is unfair, unjust, indignant SHOULD. That is part of why the birds in the park hit me. I still don’t understand my secret shoulda. The ones that seem ok, that seem compassionate. I only hit on the seemingly negative ones.
  2. I spend so much time on my inside stuff, I am blurry on consequences and karma. I don’t think about it much. Which makes sense because I have been so afraid if I look too close it will be even more discouraging and I might just quit, which I have worried about a long time now. After the contemplation though I suddenly feel less trepidation about looking at karma and consequences. It started this morning.

MN: And now what is your view of the world and its possibilities?

MN: Karma in its simplest definition is just cause and effect

A: As far as my view on possibilities, I would say that  I am seriously getting there, but not there fully.

Re karma –yes, but I have been so colored by moral goodness by Alana’s definition, and my endless mountains to climb to be as good as other people, that in my mind it has been a scary monster of judgment and consequences for all of my wrongs and imagined wrongs. So I couldn’t really look at that monster

MN In terms of possibilities, I’d consider situations in which you don’t already see all the possibilities and reasons – whether or not the result seems compassionate or fair – how do you see them now?

For instance, news stories about a society’s customs that seem odd or are incomprehensible to you.

In order for me to better understand your realization and its implications, I have to understand the changes that followed… what those changes are, what else needs addressing or scrubbing. So right now it is experiment/test mode.

Test your triggers, situations that would normally rub you the wrong way, things that you typically enjoy/detest and ask how you felt about it before and how you feel about it now. And what changed?

A: I see. I am still trying to find the changes myself. I will test for them and see what I can glean stay tuned…

 

 

An Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Program: Rupa+Nama = Aha! Contemplation After the 2019 Retreat (Part 1)

An Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Program: Rupa+Nama = Aha! Contemplation After the 2019 Retreat (Part 1)

Hello Dear Readers — recently I have had a few folks ask me what I have been contemplating on lately, so I thought, “What the hell…why not kick off the New Year with another sequence of ‘Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Program’ blogs to share a few of those aha moments that have come to me recently. So, here we are, about to get all out of order again ;). In the next couple of blogs I will share a big contemplation from the 2019 retreat and then some of the ‘course correction’ and synthesizing work I did afterwards.

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On the last night that I was at the 2019 retreat I had one doozy of a contemplation. It felt like it burst-up outta no where and it really knocked my socks off. In this blog, I am sharing the ‘content report’ about that crazy contemplation that I sent to Mae Neecha the following day and her reply . IMPORTANT: This contemplation was a starting place, but when I shared my report with Mae Neecha and Mae Yo they suggested I needed some serious ‘course correcting’ to round these thoughts out and to keep my practice on track; the course correcting conversations and contemplation will unfold over the next few blogs.  So these next few posts really will need to be read as a series to get a comprehensive pic. Yay for sequels and cliff hangers, its like a real TV program after all.

The Original Contemplation Sum-up

Hey Mae Nee,

I wanted to thank you and Mae Yo so much for all your help and support for so so long. I have had a really big breakthrough in my practice and I want to offer it to you both in gratitude.

Really long I’m afraid so a little hard to cover it all here, but I’ll give you the punchline first and then share a bit about the journey to get there:

Punchline: I clearly understand that my emotions, my imagination, my hopes and my beliefs and my sense of belonging arise in my heart and is separate from what exists in the world. I am also damn sure that I suffer because what I think the world should be and what it actually is are different things and that there is literally no way for my heart to control the world.

It all started last night, LP Nut was teaching a group and ask Ora where her need for her mom’s approval lived? She didn’t quite get the question so I started asking where various objects in the Wat lived, table, stove etc.  Finally LP Nut waved his hand and asked where slow lived… It hit me so hard that it lives in my heart. I closed my eyes and started thinking… I went through a bunch of ideas — good, safe, control, mine, value, hope, want and systematically asked where they all lived. I used my own experiences and past contemplations to test and confirm they are all in my heart.

Some highlights:

— Control: the first place I looked was in my body, but I can’t even control my body, I have asthma I can’t breathe without meds. I peed myself from supplements to make me healthier. If my own body can’t control itself there is no way control exists outside my heart.

–Safety/comfort – I tend to ‘read the rupa’ in an environment to gauge safety comfort. A few weeks ago we were at a Hotspring and the rupa was just right, nature, Zen gardens, etc. But after getting out of the bath Eric passes out. I had never seen someone faint before and the horror is still fresh. I was splashing Eric’s face, yelling for 911, afraid he was going to die. After he woke and I calmed I saw it, if this place, this rupa, were really safe and comfortable how could Eric have “almost died” ( which I know now he didn’t but at the time it felt so real).

Belonging — I started thinking about my bag on the floor. I saw in my mind clearly the rupa was on the floor, but the “my” was in my heart.  I thought about that NY house and how before I bought it, when I had a fantasy of how great it would make my new NY life it was already mine in my heart and how even before I sold it, when I was over the whole thing and hated it, how it had stopped being mine. If mine was really in the house how could my sense of it change so drastically. It has to be in my heart.

Hate– I remembered a day I was practicing Dharma hard sitting in a cafe in NY. I practiced all day contemplating on the topic of my hatred of the city, and I was so absorbed in it I noticed people were honking and it wasn’t bothering me. Usually honking is trigger number 1. Of NY hatred, but I saw on that day that not having it arise in this circumstances meant the hate didn’t live in NY it lives in my heart.

Hope– I thought about Eric and my retirement fantasy, our Koi pond and camper van and travel and I asked where it was? It clearly doesn’t exist anywhere outside me so that hope/fantasy can only live in my heart.

Value– I thought about how when my dad was alive I truly believed my values was in him, in being his daughter and in his approval. But he died and in my mind I searched his corpse for the value but I didn’t find it there, I see I still feel valuable, so it can’t have been in him but in my heart. More specifically in my heart lives my imagination of what value is and it changes based on circumstances. What I value when I am in CT and NY is different. What I value in my job has changed. I thought about my money and in that minute I saw it has no value in itself, it only buys me things I think I will want in the future, things I think will make me a certain thing even though, punchline again, the qualities I imagine in the things I buy –fashionableness, beauty, impressiveness are in my heart. And since everyone else’s version of these things are in their own hearts how can mine possibly have the effect I desire?

At which point it became clear to me that there is no magic wand that allows me to take what is in my heart and exert control on the outside world with it, the two must be separate.

Then I contemplated on should, this was a biggie , I thought about a trip to Japan where we got lost. I was so upset because we weren’t where we were supposed to be. But I saw that should is in my heart and it is not what happened in the real world. I thought about politics and how viscerally I feel like this shouldn’t be our democracy, but it is so should doesn’t live in the world it lives in my heart. Then I thought about my Dad dying. I didn’t think I should lose a father when I was so young or so fast, but I did. Then I remembered I thought it wasn’t fair my dad, who I loved died when it should have been someone else, that I hate, and that is when I saw that all my suffering comes from the difference between the should in my heart and the reality on the ground.

I considered my body and asked why I think it is so special. I internalized my dad’s corpse. Genes, blood, facial features, elements like my own, but he is dead and gone. Plus he was so special to me and yet he is gone. How will my own beliefs in my specialness save me, how can it make me different from him and the hundreds of other corpses I recalled seeing on the news.

I thought about my body, clothes and special more. I remembered my wedding dress fitting, about the shape of my body in the dress, about how special and loveable I felt when I looked in the mirror and then I remembered the dress of no value to me anymore, torn and in the back of my closet, how can special or loveable be in the dress I asked? Then I thought more about some specific clothing moments some outfits that made me feel so special. But then I thought of all the clothes that I tried on in the same store over the years and how they felt like an indictment, of my fatness of my saggingness, of my aging.  I think about the truth that get dressed pains me, makes me self-critical about style about weight. I thought how it like playing Barbie with myself and it’s not really that much fun. Barbie and her outfits are nothing without my imagination to animate them. The meaning can’t be in the clothes or the body, it must be in my heart.

Finally I touched on worthy. I didn’t feel worthy to get so many anamodanas and a thank you card from the kids for the school donation, but I did. I didn’t feel worthy to get a bed those retreat when everyone else slept on the floor. When the last fires struck I got out day one and when I heard about all my office mates suffering with the smoke I felt unworthy to have been free while they suffered. But I saw if what I believed worthiness is dictated these things then they wouldn’t have happened so, guess what, my concept of worthiness must be in my heart .

I have started thinking how sad/scary the world is that it works this way. I went to the park and all the birds ran as I walked by and I thought I mean you no harm, but because you birds act on your own imagination that lives on your little hearts you don’t know, you scurry in fear. How many times have I suffered because what I imagine I need to be scared of will come true? How many days has my heart hurt over my mother and how many times have I hurt her because of it? How sad is it that I have been part of pushing Eric to work so hard to we can have the things and future that lives only in my heart?

Anyway there is more, topics but this gets across the main gist.

I then when back and started parsing a little today. Seeing that I need to use this technique/ weave the fact that my crazy lives only in my heart with a bit more evidence on my imagination of the future lives only in my heart and that it also can’t magically change what happens in the real future/outside world.

When I contemplated I saw a clear Ubai ( well clear to me anyway). That it is like those animation screens that are popped over a real world image. Before, it looked so much like those cartoon characters are actually in the world, but now I see the top screen is just an overlay that can be popped off, my inside heart’s crazy crap was just overlaid on the world, but now I see it is a separate screen.

Anyway really long here so I will sign off after one more though.

Ok now my warm wishes,

A

 

The Roller Coaster of My Imagination

The Roller Coaster of My Imagination

For those of you who are just tuning-in, my new home, New York, is not all I had hoped it would be. Its not what I had imagined. See before the move, I thought my life here would be fun and exciting. I thought my house would be mine, be beautiful, and make life easy. I had a fantasy of Eric and my loving charmed life together, of us embracing the challenges that arose, like a fun new adventure. I was happy, optimistic. I was hopeful.

But then, once I was on the ground, my imagination shifted. Suddenly I started having nightmares of buildings going up to block my windows, of construction disasters, of going broke trying to make it here in NY. I envision the city as a dark, loud and ugly hole that I can only escape on short vacations. I worry it will change me, that the struggle of living here will ruin my relationship.  I feel miserable, trapped. I feel hopeless.

The truth however is New York is what it is — a place with 2 sides, good and bad, a place that is constantly moving and shifting and changing — it abided by this truth before I moved here and it abides by it now that I am here. It abides by it totally independent of me. What has changed is my imagination. When I saw all rainbows and unicorns I was happy. When I saw all tar-pits and booby traps I became sad. My imagination flings me about, takes my heart on an emotional roller coaster and, here is the kicker, what I imagine isn’t even real. Clearly its not real or the imagination wouldn’t have shifted so easily. It wouldn’t have been so one sided and then the other sided. What I imagined to be true would have been true, and that would be the end of the story.

I cause my roller coaster. I cause the suffering of the continual ups and downs. The excitement and disappointment. The hope and the fear. I cause it all with my imagination even though, in reality, all these imaginings, they don’t impact the outcome. They don’t tell how things really are, or predict how they will be (see Killing the Crazy entry for a more detailed analysis of how I divorced my emotion of fear with a necessary outcome. A similar matrix can be applied for how I imagine things will be and how they turn out) .  Basically, my suffering is my own creation.

My House Thats Not Quite Mine

My House Thats Not Quite Mine

As part of our move to New York, Eric and I bought a new home in Lower Manhattan. We had seen it once, while he was here interviewing with his new company, and we fell in love at first sight. As soon as we stepped into the sunny loft space we began to imagine our life there  — Eric cooking in the chef’s kitchen, me lounging by the fireplace, all the rooms open to each other so we could feel together even when were doing different things. Even the decor of the former couple was so ‘our style’, funky and artsy and eclectic. It felt like we could just slip in and take it all over, that we could have the charmed life it looked like they had from their photos and stuff. I used the rupa to paint a picture and I believed it with all my heart.

When Eric got the job offer we put an offer in on the home. We didn’t shop around, didn’t bother to try to understand New York neighborhoods or real estate. We were told the house had lot line windows (windows which could need to be boarded anytime if the building next to us is ever sold and developed higher than 5 stories), we knew it needed some work, clearly it was a bit quaint, but we “knew” it was just perfect for us. There was simply no convincing us that the future would be anything other than we imagined it, that the house (which we owned after all) wouldn’t mold to our expectations and be exactly what we wanted it to be. In other words, we were fools with a permanent view of the future and an irrational belief the world, or at least our home, would revolve around us and be in our control..but I get ahead of my story here.

Even before we signed the final papers we started to get jitters. When move-in day came, it became clear that the house size wasn’t just quaint, it was small, too small. The open floor plan had only one small closest and no cabinets, no place to put our stuff. The couple before had ordered their life to fit the house, they made it look easy and sweet. But with their stuff gone, surrounded by my boxes, it suddenly felt impossible.

It also became clear quite quickly that the place needed work, a lot of work, to make it workable for us. We sort of knew we would need some, we thought it would be a fun project to do together, a design to make the place really ours. But after interviewing a few contractors, the extent of the project, and the cost became clear. Suddenly we are looking at all new appliances, a wall getting moved, a flooring riddle I won’t even get into, lighting, electric, and building-wide projects of patching leaks, and updating a lobby, and fixing a creaky old elevator.

With each ‘discovery’ my optimism faded more and more; a place, a project, a home that had so recently been, was supposed to be, a joy was morphing into a burden. Still, in my heart, I kept feeling like the house, its mine, there is something I can do to fix it, to organize it, to make it work, to force it to be what I want it to be.

I was taking a break from unpacking, lazing in a spot of sun one of my lot line windows let in and it dawned on me. My house, my enjoyment of it (or at least of its sunniness), its totally out of my control. Even if I can renovate the place, elfa out every nook and cranny to organize and make space, I am one building sale, one ambitious development project away from literally losing my sunshine. I was crushed. Suddenly I hated the place, hated myself for buying it, the picture I painted was shattered. I saw so clearly that its not really mine. When I thought it would fit my image, play by my rules, exist on my terms I could pretend it was mine. I wanted it. But when I see that something about it I value so much can be ‘taken’ any minute, I don’t even want it any more. This dark-at-any-moment house doesn’t serve me anymore (even though its still light right now, even though its a perfectly fine place to live), it doesn’t bolster me or  sell the deeper more critical picture– ALANA master of her universe, goddess of her relationship, home and life, buttoned up and in control, all I want to be, and all others want me to be, and ME ME ME I I I AM.

But here is the crazy part: None of the information was new. I knew the size of the place, square footage was clearly placed in the listing. I knew of at least some of the upgrades, it doesn’t take an architect to spot appliances older than me. I knew about the windows, it was disclosed.  The house, it never lied to me. It told me the same truth that every object in this world screams loud and clear for anyone to hear — “I will change, fade, decay, cease to be what you want at some moment in time. I abide by my own rules, am subject to my own causes that won’t just adhere to your terms (subtext:  who are you anyway, crazy lady, to think your so special that you can control my fate).” But I had let my own picture, that I had painted all by myself, lie to me. Actually,  I used my picture to lie to myself. When, seriously when, am I going to learn that I am the liar and the sucker who believes my own lies? I believe even though my lies hurt me.

 

Boxes of Rupa

Boxes of Rupa

I am surrounded by, swimming in, a sea of my stuff. I can look at each item and remember  how badly I wanted it back when I bought it. My heart believed that that table/rug/lamp would solve my problems, fit perfectly in my space, make my home beautiful. That by extension, these items would make me a sort of person — the sort of person that values beauty, surrounds myself with it, cares enough to have a lovely home filled with lovely things. An adult, a non-slob, someone tasteful but unique.  I wanted these things and I bought them. But the story isn’t over…

Now I have all this stuff, tables/rugs/lamps/clothes, in a new space where it doesn’t fit anymore. Where it is non-beauty, just clutter, part of the endless piles I need to sort through. In a town where even donating items involves work (I either need to get an Uber XL and carry it down, or I have to order a Salvation Army pick-up and wait all day for them to come). I saw all the benefit when I bought these things, but I ignored the  burden. But (and we will cover this topic much more in a later blog) the burden was always there, just waiting for its moment to come to the fore, to rear its ugly head.
Most of the time, I think these items serve me —  after all, who buys something thinking,”I wanna pay good money to be this table/rug/lamp/dress/etc.’s bitch?” But here, amidst the stress and fall-out of a cross country move, it is very very clear, I am subject to these items (actually, to my desire for them)–finding ways to salvage some stuff for the new space, finding storage or haul-away for others. The stubbed toes, the aching back, the stress of inadequate closet space. And then there is the dependency; how can I live without all 4 feather pillow that I’m used to, even though my new “bedroom” is barely big enough to fit a bed.
And did these items even do what I believed they would do? Did they fulfill the ‘promise’ I imagined they made to me? Sure, for a bit there was convenience, beauty to my eye. But did it make me that tasteful, non-slob, adult? Did it make me fashionable, and pulled together, and worthy of love, and adoration, and even a bit of envy? How can I say these objects succeed in making me all that awesome stuff, when now they make me look like a hoarder with a cramped space, when the effort to just dispose of them is making me haggard and stressed. I promise my  situation is utterly unenviable.
At the end of the day, my desires changed. When I wanted that table/lamp/rug my desire felt so solid, so fixed, so permanent, so real. But now, I want it gone.  I always believed, I want, I get, I am satisfied, game over. But in truth, this is a game I can never ever win. Lasting fulfillment will always  evade me. How can I win when my wants are so capricious, when the desirable can become undesirable with even the most minor changes? When my once beloved furniture oppresses me.
No Going Back to SF

No Going Back to SF

I keep catching myself whispering the secret-not-so-secret mantra, “I wish I could just go home to San Francisco.”  I miss my friends, my house, my routines, I miss my old life and I want it back.  But spoiler alert, its not possible, there is no going back. After-all, what would going back really look like? My husband’s job is here now, am I going to go back without him? Or go back with both of us unemployed? In either case, is it really going back to the life I had before? My house is sold, my car sold, my position at my old job filled, none of those are there for me to go back to. And even my friends, after these few weeks, do they still have our weekly yoga time held on their calendar, that Thursday lunch spot free? All I remember San Francisco to be, its moment had come and gone, arisen and ceased, no mantra can wish away the impermanence.

But me, I am in constant denial. I am always trying to repeat the past, recreate those ‘perfect’ moments, make my memories manifest again. I once ate the best pizza in the world and kept going back to the same restaurant again and again hoping to recreate it, but each time it was worse than the first. Burberry had the perfect coat one season, each season after I kept going back, hoping to find one like it, but the cuts, they changed.  I wore that outfit one time and it was adorable, but I put it on again and I was too fat/too pale/ it was too cold/inappropriate for the occasion/ out of season/out of style.

And when I am in the moment, enjoying something, a little part of my mind is scheming, saying, “how can I get this again?” If I  come back to this hotel, can I get the same room? If I come back to this restaurant, can I get the same dessert? Can I buy extra cans of this tomato so I have more later? Can I buy extra ‘back-up’ versions of the same purse, so when the original is beaten-up I still have another one left?

I try so hard, put in so much effort, and then suffer so much disappointment because its always a fail. I can never quite seem to get back the past. Still I try. Still I hope. And that trying, hoping, grasping,  it moves me, drives me, pushes me forward. But it can’t ever return me to where I have been.


Present Day Note: Some of you many know that I did, sorta, in someways go back…about a year after my move I was offered a consulting gig back with my former SF employer that has me spending a good bit of time back out in San Francisco. I jumped at the chance — I missed SF, my friends, my life and this was a way I could at least spend sometime with the people and place I loved, even if it meant spending that time on the road, away from my husband, away from my house and bed and typical routine. I jumped because I thought it would fill a hole in my heart.

So did it? Well, sorta…with the new work situation, my life changed, again. In many ways I find it more satisfying, I feel less lost, more grounded by finding a foot back in my old life and away from NY. But the thing is, the more time I spend out in SF, the more I realize it is not my old life, it is something new altogether. The truth is even more clear than when I wrote this original blog that you really can’t go back. The city has changed, I have changed, my life and circumstances all have changed.

In addition, there is a heavy cost –the plane rides are painful, the weeks away from Eric even more so. The feeling of never being grounded, living out of suitcases, messed-up sleep cycles and this constant fear I am going to forget to do something important are so profoundly stressful. This is the price I pay, this is my suffering, to feed my desire; my desire for a shadow of my former life, for a glimmer of reinforcement of who I think I am.

My New York Rebirth

My New York Rebirth

Dear Reader — When I first made the big NY mistake ove, I did a brief blog series, ‘Interrupting our Regularly Scheduled Programming’ of an orderly progression of my path and instead offered some real-time insights about my move.  Now, I have finally caught-up to moving day and would like to put these blogs back into the ‘proper’ order. So, for those of you long-time readers, you are going to see a few familiar posts, but with the new context, and some new present-day comments. If you are new to the blog then this is a fine time to jump-in…after all, its a new, New York, life.


I have been thinking that moving is a lot like starting a new life, a rebirth. There was a cause to the move, my desire for a better life, to escape things I don’t like and seek out ones I do (in particular, my husband’s old job, which was a huge burden for us both). There was imagination of what it would be like, better, not worse, of course. There is effort, and money, spent to bring the move to fruition. There is the need to rebuild, re-establish my life, my stuff, my sense of self in these new circumstance.

And let me tell you something my friends, this move has been hard. Horribly, terribly hard. Perhaps the details will come in another blog, but suffice it to say, the stress, the effort, the planning, the disappointments have been enormous (ok, one detail, I messed-up a tooth from jaw clenching in my sleep because the noise of honking and sirens and yelling through the night is so stressful). Before, when I imagined all the glitz of a NY life, I didn’t see the dirt, the noise, the crowding, cold, nature-free city I have found myself in. I couldn’t have imagined the work it would take just to move, the struggle to live here, the sense of loss I feel from my old life, and the people in it.

The problem though is I’ll forget. I know I’ll forget, because when I first moved to SF I hated it too. It took time, but I “fell in love” and the horror show it took to build my life there became a distant memory. Sure I know I felt bad at the time, I remember, sort of, but it was worth it right? For the life I eventually built and loved (and then had to leave so quickly…), worth it I’m sure, well sort of, right? For the place that gave me the standards, the ‘norms’ to which I compare my new city and find it so very disappointing (and grey and cold and ungreen and unclean and uneco and unfoodie and unorganic and un friggin NorCal). Worth it…in hind-site, in the haze of amnesia and getting used to things and adjusting and re-imagining that keeps me tied in Samsara (cycle of rebirth). Pain when its raw is so motivational, we all want escape, but as it dulls, as the scar forms, we find a way to move on.

Here in NY the forgetting has already begun. I already find myself adjusting. Finding the noise fades to the background, the dirt becoming less noticeable. Its all better then it was before (my jaw has un-clenched) so it must be all good, right? My expectations, my imagination, adjusting. I get used to it. Familiarity I have come to realize is my nemesis. It makes me forget the pain, it numbs me to the discomfort in the world. It also, as a double F-you, makes the pleasurable less delightful. My first ice cream after being a vegan was the most delicious thing ever, but over time I got used to ice cream again and its just not the heaven-in-my-mouth it was when it was new, unfamiliar.

I however, I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to gloss over my suffering. Its real and it sucks. What it takes to prepare for a new life, to set it all-up just so, to adjust myself, my hopes and dreams its so so hard. And then to tell a story later on that it was all my idea, all under my control, all good in the end, that it was actually fun, built my character, its not true. I don’t want to keep being pushed into a new circumstance by my imagination of what it will be only to be shocked, disappointed and then lulled into complacency as I adjust. I don’t want endless rebirths, thinking each one will be different than the last, that it will be easier, that the trade offs are in my control, that its worth it.

And for all of this, as far from my fantasy as the city has proven to be, did I get what I wanted, a better life? In some ways — my husband’s job, for now at least, seems better and less stressful. But better capital B? How could it be? There are always 2 sides. There are always trade-offs. I imagined only one side (wrong view), knew there would be trade-offs but thought I could hedge, I could control which they were, that things would be on my terms. I was wrong and I feel the sting of it, and the dull ache of an angry tooth…

 

Another Prelude

Another Prelude

Please bear with me Dear Reader. This particular blog post is not exactly a Dharma moment. There is no deep reflection, no further questions to pursue, no moral to the story. This is just a little context that I think it is important for you to be aware of before we launch into the New York saga.

I had been pretty happy in San Francisco for many years. But my husband, Eric, struggled with his job and was looking for an exit. When he got a call to interview at a NY company we were psyched. We both went to NY for the interview and used the opportunity to poke around, check-out houses and neighborhoods, see if it would be a good new home for us.

The truth is, the warning signs were already there: I registered how dirty, loud and crowded the city was. I had the thought that we should set aside some of the money we would use on a NY house to also buy a ‘country cottage’ so we could getaway on weekend (i.e. I was thinking about escaping before I ever arrived). I knew from friends, articles, my own 6 month-pre-grad school NY living experience, that NY could be a hard place to live. But I though we were special — I thought money, feeling ‘grounded’, age, wisdom, good karma,  even my Dharma practice and the tools it had taught me, gave us an edge, if not a guarantee, then at least some advantage, that it would all be OK…

Plus, we were getting a bit tired of San Fran: The homelessness, the drug use on the streets, the expense, the traffic, the new breed of tech douchebags bros that  had invaded the city, the crime…it just wasn’t as cool as it used to be. That is part of the reason why, even though Eric actually had another job offer at an SF -based company, we decided we would move and try our luck in NY.  There were other reasons too..I was feeling bored at my job and moving made for an easy transition. I was feeling restless, like I wanted to try new things, to meet new people, to build a new life and identity elsewhere.  So there it is Dear Reader, an important detail I want you to know –we had a choice — we could have stayed, but we decided to go.

In my mind, I imagined New York would be an awesome new adventure. I had fantasies about the days I would spend at the galleries and the nights watching shows on Broadway. Chic, hip Eric and Alana and our chic new NY friends. When our bid on the ‘perfect house’ (a cool, old skool, downtown loft)  that we had seen on our initial interview trip was accepted even more fuel was added to the fantasy fire –a home-base in our new home, a place to nest and feel safe, a perfect lover’s pod, to come back to at night after our days of fun-filled explorations of ‘The Greatest City on Earth’.

When I left SF for NY, I left feeling confident that I had made a good decision about moving.  So many times I had moved before and never had I felt so ‘sure’, so secure, so hopeful for what I ‘knew’ would be a happily ever after. Sadly My Friends, we are at the start of this story and definitely not at a happy ending. So stay tuned for those ‘NY adventures ‘ that I most definitely wasn’t prepared for.

 

Dark Days in Gotham

Dark Days in Gotham

In October 2016 Eric and I left our home of almost a decade, San Francisco, for New York City. Lets just say it wasn’t the cupcake and rainbow experience we were expecting. It was dark. Very dark…

In New York, sleeping dragons awoke;  monstrous sides of my personality, that in sunny San Francisco had lain latent so long I foolishly though had disappeared, came to haunt me. There was hateful Alana. So angry I could kill Alana. Struggles with depression Alana. There was also a wake-up call to the perils of ignorance — my batty blinding guide who I so trustingly, unquestioningly, followed to a new NY life that has brought me tremendous suffering.

But, as Mae Yo has said again and again, suffering is good for the Dharma practitioner. It is motivational, reminding us that this world entails tremendous suffering and that dharma is our only escape hatch. It is also a chance to face our demons, the wrong views that sow the seeds of our continual rebirth (and all the suffering that comes along with it). It is good, as long as we don’t “suffer for free”, but instead learn and grow, contemplate and consider, take accountability and prepare so that we don’t continually make the same mistakes. New York has been a ton of suffering, but I absolutely refuse to have it be for free.

So here it is Dear Reader — the tales of my dark days in Gotham…

 

Final Thoughts on These New Beginnings

Final Thoughts on These New Beginnings

It has been over 3 years since I began this blog and, before we move to the next ‘chapter’, I want to reflect from the present day perspective a bit about some of what I have learned.  The blog idea originally came from Neecha, but back when she suggested it –over 7 years ago — I felt like I was not ready to share my practice with the world, frankly I felt like doing so would make me a fraud: Who was I anyway? Not some great practitioner I assure you, just an every day gal with an everyday life. No one blog-worthy and that was that. Until…

Until that fateful mini-retreat, and Dharma Meltdown 2.o , when a little dirt on my beige pants had me sobbing in tears because I was so sure it was ‘proof’ of my impurity — ie. bad Buddhistiness. A little baby shake from Neecha, some contemplation on my meltdown and presto: My meltdown problem was solved PLUS I was finally ready to write this blog. When I was ready, I was ready because I decided that I may have held a wrong view — the view that my idea of what a good Buddhist actually is may not be the whole picture (a wrong view  strengthened through my interpretation of particular rupa, like perfectly white robes). There could be other stuff (stuff suggested in forms and behaviors that comprised my practice, like keeping a notebook) that made me a ‘good Buddhist’ or at least blog-worthy practitioner. And so, a blogger was born and, frankly I am glad she was because there has been a great deal of advantage that I have gotten from the practice of keeping the blog: Forced consistency in my practice, the chance to review old stories and to strengthen my understanding of the truths I uncovered, the ability to practice thinking analytically about my wrong views.

Recently though, I have come to see there is a even deeper wrong view that underlies this whole endeavor…I have been contemplating self and self belonging with renewed vigor in the last few months and after having my nails done I looked down at them and was surprised to see the paint chipping off fairly quickly. I thought to myself, “I have been being so careful, how are these things chipping so soon?” Then it hit me like a ton of bricks, the nature of nail polish is to chip, left alone long enough that is the way it decays; at most I am a factor in helping it stick around longer or chip faster, but I was never the cause. It is in the nature of white (or beige) cloth to become dirty — how in the fuck did I ever think that this was about ME? That it proved something absolutely in ME? That I should be able to  conquered this aspect of impermanence and not doing so is a personal failure (talk about fuel for eternal becoming). Woohoo Egooo… 

Enter Ego: I run around this world ‘interpreting’ signs in rupa, reading tea leaves, looking for meaning and every sign, every leaf, every micron of meaning always points back to me. But a tea leaf is just a leaf: It is made up of 4 elements and it (like everything else in this world) is subject to the three common characteristic, the only meaning in it is the meaning I imagine to be there. And the problem with my imagination is it has a singular agenda — creating and sustaining ME.

Beginning this blog sprung from my usual ‘epic’ struggle between being A (some version of good) and being B(some version of bad), but either way, I believed MYSELF to BE a SOMETHING. A part of me felt like this blog would prove/make real the idea I had of alternate good Buddhist, one who kept notes and diligently practiced, even if I couldn’t keep white clean.

Enter Truth: The good news My Friends is that Rupa doesn’t actually lie; instead of using it to tell falsehoods and build the self we can use it to  shed light on truth.  Just looking back over my blog is quite fine evidence that the great ME has changed a hell of a lot. You see, originally I believed I could use this blog to create some orderly narrative:  A series of stories, written post-facto, that showed my progress as it occurred. Sure, there was going to be change (cataloging it was sorta the point), but it was going to be controlled, hedged, turned on and off by MY WILL so that at any given moment I could ‘drop into’ my old self and tell it like it was. But here My Friends is where I admit the lie —  Today’s Alana can never speak with the voice of yesterday’s Alana. I know because I find myself regularly looking through my past notes and trying to reconcile exactly what I will blog when I just can’t un-see the things I have seen since the old story. I can’t really find or feel the meaning I know I once gave something, it has becoming too jumbled with new scenes and new meaning and new knowledge and new beliefs that have arisen in the interim.  Yesterday Alana and Today Alana are not the same, so where exactly is this ME anyway? And while there has clearly been a progression of this path, I sure as hell can’t swear by the meaning I read into each story, better yet the whole story arc.

And yet, I have every intention of continuing to forged ahead, to practice and to blog as I am able. But it is not to prove I am a Good Buddhist. It is not to become a good Buddhist. It is not to become anything at all, rather it is to un-become. To revisit each story as an opportunity to pick at the truth, to expose the wrong view, to feed my imagination the information it needs to forged ahead with a new agenda — unraveling and undermining ME.

I dedicate this blog, my practice, and all the merit  I have created in past and present life to entering The Stream as quickly as possible: Now, this week, this  month, this year, at the most in this life. To having the wisdom to uproot my wrong views, the parami to become enlightened, the energy to keep-on-keeping-on and the removal of any obstacles that might stand in my way. If I am born at all I ask to be born into circumstances of Dharma with true teachers, Kalianametra and on the path. May all the causes, conditions and factors that need to arise in order for me to become enlightened, arise and result in my enlightenment pronto!

 

But its Not Fair! I’m Going to Get You For This…

But its Not Fair! I’m Going to Get You For This…

Before we set sail to New York, Eric and I decided to go on a 3 week holiday to Europe. I planned every last detail, booked us in the nicest hotels, chose upgraded flight seats, researched the best activities and routs. With so much prepping, preparing and thoughtful packed I couldn’t imagine anything going wrong. But, its travel –its life–so of course, plenty did go wrong. Some stuff was just inconvenience, some funny missteps or misunderstandings. But there were a couple of incidents that made me so angry, so indignant, because the were simply NOT FAIR:

  • Verizon — I had gone to Verizon and set-up an international phone plan before I left. But when we got to our first stop and I tried to use my phone, I realized that, contrary to what I was told at the Verizon store, my plan had not been set-up. I tried to get help online, but was unable. Ultimately I ended up having to call customer service, and pay international calling rates, to speak to a representative that could get my plan up and running. I was livid — it wasn’t my fault, and yet I had to pay just to fix a sales rep’s mistake. NOT FAIR!

 

  •  Hotel  Booking — I had booked a room at a nice hotel in Malta and confirmed that the booking was all arranged and in good order before we left the US. I arrived at the hotel and they told me they had canceled my booking. No one new exactly why, however it happened. With a conference in town, the rates for their last remaining rooms had gone-up by nearly 2X. My choices were to book a more expensive room or leave and hope that, despite the conference, I could find another hotel room somewhere else. I felt extorted, I had prepared, done everything right, and yet here I was, and it was NOT FAIR!

 

  • ‘Premium’ Airline Seats — For my flight home I booked ‘premium bulkhead seats’ with extra legroom in front. But, the airline had neglected to mention that the bulkhead area, though not technically an aisle, was the easiest way for the majority of passengers to go to and from the bathroom. As soon as I sat down, the flight attendants began to apologize. I soon learned why — every 2 minutes someone was stepping on my feet trying to get to the bathroom. There was an announcement that passengers should not use the bulkheads as an aisle. The flight attendants even tried blocking-off the ‘premium seats’ with luggage. But ultimately there was no way to stop the flow of passengers stepping on me for a 14 hour flight.  These were the seats I had paid extra for: It is so NOT FAIR.

What was supposed to be a relaxing vacation was punctuated by these moments of such intense stress and anger. In my darkest moments — as I waited on hold, paying by the minute, for Verizon, as I stared incredulously at the hotel clerk who told me my confirmed reservation had been canceled, as I was trampled by someone going to the bathroom just as I was about to nod off — I kept thinking, “Do you know who I am?”, “This is so not right!” ,”I’M GOING TO GET YOU FOR THIS.”

I had an expectation (permanent thought) of how things should go, of what I deserved based on my level of preparation or my payment. When it didn’t go as I expected I felt personally wronged, I felt angry and I wanted revenge for being made to feel small, unimportant and out of control. But is it really not right? Can it really be ‘not how things should be,’ when it is actually how things are?

I have a delusion about the way the word works –according to my standards. But clearly right according to Alana isn’t permanent and True; it’s not the rule that governs the world. I am here, born, I put myself on planes and in hotels, into this body and this life. I am the one that comes up with my own standards and I am the one that fools myself into believing those standards are absolute. Who else can be blamed for my disappointment, discontent? Who is worthy of my revenge other than I myself?

So Long Sweet Ride

So Long Sweet Ride

It was a sorrowful farewell : I pulled the Porsche out of the garage for the final time and drove that tearful trail to Carmax. I took the wayward path, top-down, enjoying one last twisty turny mountain path before I hit the parking lot and went to speak to the dealer about making a sale. We were moving to NY City and the car had to stay behind. I would miss her, but I figured I could take the money for the trade-in and save it for another car later on.

It was a shock, a slap in the face, when the Carmax folks came back with an offer that barely covered the rest of the car payments. The Pro came-out to explain; that slight catching feeling I had noticed during acceleration, it was a mechanical problem — some serious $$$ repairs were necessary, so it decreased the value of the car.  It made sense, plus I had no choice with a plane to catch in just 2 days. I took their offer and left, too angry, hurt and ashamed to even look at that Porsche before walking out of the lot and to the train station.

I sat on the train and seethed — I felt so angry, deceived, ashamed — in my mind that car was so valuable, so precious. I had spent so much time, energy and care to own and preserve it. I did it, because it had ‘proved’ my wealth, my status, my on-top-of-the-fucking-worldness, for so long… and then, in the end, it proved me a fool.  It was like a husband who makes me feel so special, only for me to learn I’m but one of 100s of their lovers: Used.

“That fucking car lied” I thought.  But really, did the car whisper its worth in my ear? That car never lied to me, I lied to me.  I saw that rupa (form) and I imagined a value. In fact, I imagined a whole fairy tale with me as the buttoned-up, well-to-do, heroine with a fast and flashy car; so clever, so poised, so on-top-and-in-charge. A broken, worthless car, wrecked my fantasy — it told a different tale, one of a person who can’t preserve or control their shit, one who is hoodwinked by flashy baubles, an anti-hero loser in the end. The problem with believing my own fantasy is that reality will always, ultimately, make itself known…so is the fantasy really worth it for the temporary, delusion-based happiness it brings?

Now I have no car, no money and a whole lot of disappointment. And who set me up for that? (Me obviously).

Mine Not Yours

Mine Not Yours

I was walking along and suddenly got to thinking back on something strange I had seen a few years before: I was at a construction site, filled with tools and equipment, and near the center of the room was a ladder that had a post-it-note securely taped to it. The note, written in big black marker read, “Mine not yours.”

I assume the owner of the ladder had put up the note to let others know the ladder was his/hers. But, ironically, the message made it sound like the ladder belongs to any reader who reads the note. After all, when I read, ‘mine not yours’, I do so from my own perspective;  the voice in my head thinks of itself as the ‘me’ not the ‘you’.  If ownership is something that requires my or your perspective, then is it something universal? Is it capital T true?

Can a note  keep the ladder ‘faithful’ and prevent it from allowing itself to be used by someone else? Can it keep the ladder from ‘walking away’, being taken by some other worker? Can it keep the ladder from falling or breaking or losing structural integrity? The note actually tells the real truth: if my ladder, my belongings, obeyed me they wouldn’t need a note in the first place.  What is mine would act like it was mine and it would be plain for all the world to see.

Instead, a ladder, like all objects, has a ‘life of its own’. It is a combination of parts, it has a moment in time (birth) at which all those parts come together, it has a period where –like Shed– it maintains its ladder function and form (life), and ultimately it will come apart, erode, decompose, break, i.e. die. While it exists, the ladder has ‘rules of its own’, ways it can be used, limits to its function and strength and structure. Ownership can’t change any of this, and the concept of mine-ness, born from my perspective, oblivious to the reality of the object is as flimsy as the sticky note it was written on.

 

 

The Magical Shed

The Magical Shed

Once upon a time, in a land called Healdsburg, there was the most magical place called Shed. Shed was a mecca of all things delicious; it had a cafe, deli, grocery store, cookware, bakery, and more. Sometimes it seemed like every last tasty treat in the store was cooked in heaven. Sometimes, but, not always…
Whenever Eric and I were even remotely close to Healdsburg we would stop for lunch at  Shed. Ugh, I can still remember the first time I was there, a salad so fresh it felt like the vegetables were jumping from the ground straight into my mouth. The second time, a pizza with dough so fluffy it was like eating clouds. As Eric and I plan our next weekend getaway to Healdsburg, my mouth is already watering at the thought of my meal at Shed.
I am so damn sure that the Shed of my memories, the Shed of my imagination is what I am guaranteed on our next trip. But, if I am being honest, my memories are a little doctored; I choose to ignore the times the food is just so-so, to believe that the one time I got food poisoning was an’outlier’, to gloss the unpleasantness when we have had to wait hours for a table, or to forget the  heartbreak when I learned they had stopped serving their pizza.
My imagination isn’t too trustworthy either, after all, Shed changes: There is variable comfort of certain tables over others, varying service, varying food quality, temptation of the sweets case that is extra painful when I am dieting but a joy when I am feeling thin, coffee sometimes too caffeinated, produce selection sometimes filled with my favorites but sometimes stocked with very least favorites (persimmons, yuk).  Shed is many parts, many workers, many ingredients,  many patrons, many experiences, each constantly shifting.  The only place it stays the same is in my imagination. No matter how much the place changes, in my mind it always seems to be the Magical Shed.
The problem is, this is delusional. The Shed of my mind (memory + imagination) exists no where in reality. Yet, I expect that on my next trip to Healdsburg I will be able to just go and find it and when I find it, it will behave and fulfill me just like I imagine.  Ultimately reality always gets the last word: Everything always changes, shifts, decays to a point my ly’in mind can’t pretend anymore, and when that finally happens I suffer a world of  hurt.  Trust me, I know, because several years after I had this contemplation, I learned Shed closed down just a few weeks before my last vacay out to Healdsburg — a stab of disappointment for which there was no one to blame but myself.
Not-So-Secret Secrets from the Crypt

Not-So-Secret Secrets from the Crypt

It was a beautiful sunny day, and since I was already on an errand in Oakland I decided to pay a visit to the historical Mountain View Cemetery, just to check it out. I went into one of the crypts and was struck by how massive it was — hallway after hallway, 4 stories tall, and that was in just one of dozens of buildings. It was like a maze. I looked at one wall, filled with names, and I realized… all these plaques look almost exactly the same. Each of these people once had lives like mine. They had families, things, activities, etc. But every person, every BODY, ends up the same.

I have a body too. Just like every other object in my life, I use it on its terms. When its hungry I feed it. When it is tired I sleep it. I think this body makes me special somehow, unique. But I clearly don’t control it, because whether I like it or not, just like every other BODY of every other person in that crypt, it will die and decay. I will be just another name on some wall somewhere.

I started thinking about my wedding dress. Like every other dress, it is made of spun threads. It had an origin: a bolt of fabric somewhere. But for some reason (i.e. my memory and imagination) my mind persuaded me to believe that the form the dress temporarily took — the particular color and shape — made it special, made it more than just a pile of fabric. And when I put it on, the dress made me feel special, it transferred its specialness to me.  I thought the dress reflected my beauty, my uniqueness, my edginess (it was red). I thought I could stand-up in front of everyone wearing it and prove what a catch-I was. How desirable I was, how lucky Eric was to score me as a wife…

I am finally starting to understand that rupa is the props that I use to sell myself the lie of my own specialness. It is the decoration that makes me mistake one dress (or one body) as so much better than/ different from the rest, when in fact all dresses are made of the same things, have the same function (clothing) and will all be torn or destroyed or rot in some other way.  On retreat I had started thinking about the dolls I used to play with as a kid. I would dress them-up in special doll clothes and then tell a story. Imagine a life for them. The clothes, the accessories, the car or the horse were a central part of the story I told. I never just played with naked dolls, there was no story there.  The story may be in my mind, but there is no way to play it out, to make it feel compelling and true, without the props.

But just like Rupa can sell me the lie, I can also look to it to learn the truth too. After all, it is no secret that sooner or latter my day in the crypt will come. No dress, no body, no hope, or prayer, or power in this universe can prevent my joining the ranks of all the other folks who are now just name plaques on a wall. How special will I be then and how special am I now if I share the same fate as everyone else?

Question on Sakkāya-Diṭṭhi

Question on Sakkāya-Diṭṭhi

In this blog post I would like to share a Q&A exchange I had with Mae Neecha the topic of Sakkaya-Ditthi, the first fetter, ego or self view. I offer it here because it provides an important clarification on the path to enlightenment and  has since colored my own thinking and process.

_________________________________________________________________________

Original Question: 

I was re-watching some of Mae Yo Q and As yesterday (way more interesting thank Lakorns to practice my Thai). In the one about “Important Qualities”, Mae Yo briefly talks about the first 3 fetters, ending by saying since the 2nd 2 will go when the first goes basically we need to find a way to eliminate sakkāya-diṭṭhi. That all makes sense only…

My question then, what exactly is sakkāya-diṭṭhi? I know it generally gets translated as ego or self view. But it seems to me that thats not a great definition; after all, this elimination comes for sotapanas who still deal with the 8 worldly conditions, vengeance, lust, all emotions that must require some remaining sense of self in order to arise.

My best guess is that this is an elimination of misunderstanding Rupa (form) as something permanent, as something that can be us, or make us or be controlled by us. As something with real meaning, not just the meaning our 3s and 4s pour into it and which we are deluded into believing is real? Or perhaps, more refined, an understanding of impermanence that we can arrive at through an understanding of Rupa which helps us see our impermanence (and therefore non abiding selfyness)?

Either way, I just feel like Rupa has to be the key bc all my contemplations keep pointing back to how it totally powns us…

Neecha’s Reply:

I would define Sakkyaditthi as the view that you are at the center of the universe and understanding/conquering sakkyaditthi is understanding that you alone are the cause of your suffering and wrong perceptions. Eliminating the sakkyaditthi fetter is seeing that theres a huge difference between your perception of the truth and the actual truth.

Alana Again:

That makes lots more sense…and our misunderstanding of Rupa is such a pervasive cause of our problems that this is one of the first things we get clarity around our mistaken perception of versus reality? Put another way..the way we see rupa sells the lie of our self as center of the universe so we need to re-understand it before we can see the truth?

 Neecha’s Reply:

Yes. We understand rupa in terms of ourselves because the world revolves around us. Seeing the reality that we are not invincible, but rather, subject to the 3 common characteristics like all other tangible things is a big first step. It’s the foundation for eliminating the other fetters.

 

Livin The Single Life

Livin The Single Life

Eric had to take a particularly long business trip and I was left livin the single life for several weeks. I was so bored and lonely I decided to take myself on a little weekend getaway to Santa Cruz. I planned the perfect trip: A cute hotel where I could sit by the pool, a ride on the Santa Cruz Mountain Steam Train, Mexican at my favorite Mexican joint, and a hike near the San Lorenzo river. A perfect weekend to perfectly distract me from my loneliness.
Only, as soon as I checked into the hotel I was thinking about how I needed to bring Eric back to check-out such an adorable place. As I walked down the main strip in Santa Cruz I kept thinking of all the stores we had visited together in the past. As I sat down to dinner I started wondering how I would pass the time waiting for food without my usual conversation partner. It turns out, getting away physically didn’t really get me away from my loneliness at all. All I wanted was a redo, a chance to do all of this stuff again, only with Eric next time; Eric being there would make it fun, Eric being there would make it feel meaningful, Eric being around makes an experience complete.
But as I sat there, waiting for my food, I thought about it a little bit more — Eric hates Mexican food, when he comes with me to Santa Cruz we never get to go to this restaurant I like so much. Eric’s not really a fan of sitting by the pool either. If he had been there when I went into all those Main Street stores I would have felt like my shopping was rushed. The best part of my day was spent wading through the San Lorenzo River but  Eric doesn’t really like getting wet.  Suddenly I realized –at least on this trip — I don’t really want Eric there per se, I want what Eric , as my partner, represents to me…
The truth is, this isn’t the first time I have found myself feeling like I need to wait for Eric before the fun and fulfillment can really start. Early in our marriage, when he worked the most insane hours, I would come home from my own job and wait. I felt like my rest, my relaxation, ‘my time’ didn’t really start until Eric was there to share it with me. Over time, I grew tired of waiting and I started hobbies and activities I could enjoy for myself.  But the pattern, the deeper belief, is clearly still there — life, experiences, activities aren’t really meaningful without my partner there. Partner = essential ingredient in my happiness.
I have poured all this meaning into Eric and he isn’t here. My imagination, my views of partnership and of fulfillment have created my own loneliness and dissatisfaction on this trip. Of course, Eric will be home in a few days. All this will be behind me soon enough. And yet… I can’t help being haunted by the real peril of my view: One of these days, Eric will die. Or I will die. The two of us will leave each other. What happens then? What misery have I set myself up for? Will I find a new life, a new person to pour my partner meaning into? If so, how will I ever break free?
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