Alana's Dharma Blog

From as early as I could remember, my parents, my teachers, my community, were all training me, grooming me for a job. The particular job didn’t really matter so much, but it had to be something white collar, managerial/officey. In the upper middle class Jewish community I grew-up in, doctors, lawyers, accountants were first choices, but, being the do-gooder I was, my gig as a nonprofit fundraiser was perfectly acceptable. The main point is, in my community, in my mind, productive members of society had jobs. Certain jobs were more valuable than others, no job at all was just lazy and useless.

But as I considered a move to Chicago, I also considered getting a new job and it dawned-on me, I wanted a break. My husband and I didn’t really need the money from my salary, and I wanted time to pursue other interests. But, what kind of bum doesn’t have a job? What kind of woman lets her husband support her? Oy the feminists were going to come after me with pitchforks…

I was so embarrassed to even thinking about a break, afraid that saying it out loud would cause everyone to stop, stare and judge. I even though…hum, if I could not have a job, but lie about it somehow so no one knew would that work? Yup in my mind that evoked concern over  being a liar, but not being seen as a useless bum. So here was the issue –1)  I was afraid of what everyone would think of me if I didn’t have a job. 2) More deeply, I was afraid that everyone shared my judgement (wrong view) that people with jobs are more valuable and that if I didn’t have one then I am less valuable. 3) If everyone thought that, then it must be true..a jobless alana was less valuable, had less status, than a gainfully employed alana. Maybe if I was a secret bum I could live with my diminished value, but no way could I live with everyone seeing me as a failure.

LP Nut sent me off with a little homework on this topic: How does what people say/think of me affect my value?

1. Does what folks think about me determine my value? What about when one person’s opinion changes? Or they have conflicting opinions?  When I was a kid I had a love hate/relationship with my nextdoor neighbor. Sometimes we were friends and other times enemies…did my value, or his, change by the fight? Now that we are adults and friends, does it erase all the times I thought him a menace? I have done work that my boss thinks is extremely valuable to the company, but also made mistakes that cost us money so which is it–am I a valuable employee or someone who destroys company value? One time, a friend, high on drugs, thought I had betrayed her. When she sobered-up she realized she had hallucinated the whole thing –was I a bad friend while she was hallucinating and a good one when she sobered? Does it matter I wasn’t even there for the whole thing (it really was entirely in her imagination)? Could my friend’s beliefs alone make me a particular thing, a good friend/bad friend?
2. What is people’s perception of my value even based-on? Back when I was a kid there was a bully in my class who picked-on me so much. He wanted to be one of the popular kids and what better way then picking on an unpopular kid like me? Fast forward to high school, after I had “blossomed” and become a very pretty, very popular, girl. I ran into this same kid at the mall and suddenly he wanted my number, wanted to go on a date. Now he didn’t want someone to bully he wanted a girlfriend. My value to him changed based on his needs. My family and friends may look down on me when I quit my job, but what if someone gets sick and I am available to care for them, then my value to them would go up. I ultimately can’t control other people’s wants and needs, so there is in fact no way for me to control my value to them.
3. If the opinion of someone I deeply value changes/ends what happens to me and my value? Specifically, when my father was alive, he was my world. Almost everything I did, I did with his opinion of me in mind. Most of all, I cherished his love and valuing of me and I pained at the times I disappointed him.  When he died, did my value as a person end? Did it stop at the moment of his death? Or, as long as I stay within the framework of what I thought he valued, am I safe? Still valuable? And to whom?

Does everyone even agree with what is and isn’t valuable? Is it the same as what I think? Do I even think the same things are valuable across time and space?

I actually got started on this job contemplation when I mentioned to LP Nut I was considering a break from work. He nodded at me sagely and said, “you have had enough”, like it was a fine accomplishment.  LP Anan, who was sitting nearby chimed-in, he thinks a break is a great idea, more time for Dharma practice. My husband, sitting next to me also thought a break was good, more time for him. These people who I respect tremendously, clearly did not agree with me that a jobless alana was a worthless alana.  So why was it a belief I was clinging to?

The truth is that  job=value (or anything else=value) is just my standards, my judgements, shaped by my experiences and my imaginations of what having a particular job would actually look like. My Dad, who I already mentioned, was a huge force in shaping my worldviews, thought that work was valuable. It’s not surprising I ended-up with the same conclusion.  

But, I couldn’t even follow my own “rules” all the time. Did I veiw my father as less valuable when he retired (no of course not)? Would I stop loving my husband if he lost his job (again no)? One of the people in my life I feel great gratitude and love for was the housekeeper who helped take care of me when I was growing up — is she less valuable to me because her job is as a housekeeper not a Dr. lawyer or  accountant?  When I was in school I had no job, where was my value then?

On another topic, I used to think being a vegetarian was valuable, made me a good person. When I was a vegetarian, some folks agreed, some folks made fun of me or sighed at having to chose a restaurant that suited my needs. Now, I see the wrong views that imbued vegetarianism with a particular positive value and I see the negative consequences that came with it, to my health, to my relationships, to my ability to be flexible and have fewer conditions in my life (see blog The Buddhist who Loves Bacon).So did not eating meat/eating meat change my value?

If my own standards are variable, how can I live in fear that I won’t meet someone elses’, which may or may not be the same as mine, which may or may not be the same across time? I like to control how people perceive me in order to sway them, persuade them, get their love. But can I control their perception of me with a job? At all? If their value of me is based on their needs, their beliefs, how can I control my value to them without controlling their needs? Their hopes? Their imaginations? Thats impossible. So that brings us to the big question: Where exactly is my value? What exactly is it? Is it like gold stars and black frowny faces that sick on my heart? Do I just count how many of each I have to know if I’m good or bad?

While I was walking around, contemplating my value, I noticed dandelions on the road. I thought, they are beautiful, a splash of color, they made me smile. But, in a garden they are weeds, choking out the intended plants. So which are they beautiful flowers or pesky weeds? It depends on the situation, on who you ask, on if you are walking on a path or tilling your garden. I like to blow them when they dry and make a wish, but when I’m done, the stem is just trash, and I do hate when those little spores stick in my clothes. Even in a single moment then, those flowers have an upside and a downside,a wish and trash, a positive and negative value.

My own beliefs, my needs, my circumstances,  they determine the things I think are valuable. But these things are always changing, and my sense of valuable adjusts with them. My value can’t be pinned down, its not in a particular time or place. But my desire to name it, know it, control it causes me suffering. I think I have some value now, as an employee, as a contributing member of society, and with that comes the pressure to preserve and grow that value. How can I just throw it all way to become a lazy no good bum?

This contemplation served as the foundation for my considering the 8 Worldly Conditions. Stay tuned, that story is coming-up soon…

Flashlight: I lost my friggin flashlight. Again. Sooo annoyed. I put it outside in the sun to charge at the retreat center. Someone must have moved it. Or maybe I just forgot it somewhere. I go questing, find it on a table, ‘sweet my flashlight found!’ Darkness comes and I am prepared, I turn on my flashlight, but no light. Its broken, or it didn’t charge. Now I need to borrow a light…Ugh, fucking flashlight!

But wait…when l put that flashlight in the sun to charge, when I wanted it but couldn’t find it, when I counted on it, trusted it to get me through darkness, then it was MY flashlight. But when it failed me, when it was just a useless tool, then it was FUCKING flashlight. Hint hint Alana, there is a wrong view lurking here..

Had it ever really been my flashlight if it could become un-mine so fast? Un-mine in my head when I got annoyed. Un-mine if it were really lost.  Un-mine if I threw it away because it broke. Un-mine because it made me worry and look for it and blame others for its disappearance. Un-mine because do  really own things I don’t control.

And what else is un-mine? What else do I need to look more closely at, investigate, re-think, unclaim:

Wedding Ring: I lost it. I blamed a friend. I was so sad and hurt when it was gone. Worried it was a bad omen for my marriage. After it was gone I didn’t even want a new one, the loss of one un-mine ring made me worry about losing a second ring I hadn’t even gotten yet. And what if I saw it on someone else’s finger, now, years later —  would I take it back? Could it be mine? Would it even legally or socially be mine? Is it mine if it is someone else’s now?

Second Hand Clothes: I buy most of my clothes second hand, ebay, consignment shops, etc. So when exactly does it become mine? When I pick it up off the rack, when I pay, when I hang it in my closet? What if the old owner saw me wearing ‘their’ dress, wanted it back? I have found keys and wallets before and returned them, so were they mine when I found them but someone else’s when I gave them back? Is it mine if it was someone else’s before?

The Porsche: I didn’t even want the car, Eric chose it. How much suffering it causes when I need to take it to the shop, when I worry about dents and theft. I imagine the car gives me an identity, sleek, sexy, rich. But sometimes I worry it gives me the wrong identity, show off, inappropriate, impractical, driving husband’s fancy car. Is it mine if I share it? Is it mine if I am ambivalent about what it makes me?

My Dad: Dad has been dead for years. What does his being mine mean when he is not even here? What part of him is mine? Is something still mine after it is dead, gone?

The Goodwill Pile:  The bag of stuff in the garage just waiting for me to donate it, is that all mine? I don’t care if it is stolen, I don’t worry about it, I don’t fixate on any of those things.  Is something still mine when I don’t want it anymore?

My Stuffed Animals: Were my most precious belongings as a kid, I literally had hundreds of them. Each one I cared for, named, took turns playing with them and cuddling them. Now, as an adult, they are gone, or still at my Mom’s I don’t even know. I don’t care. They are worthless to me. But won’t this happen to everything? Shit I care about now, will be worthless to me later. So why the intermediate attachment, fixation, obsession? Is it mine when I don’t care about it anymore? When my love and desire for it is so momentary?

My Body: Is fat Alana mine when I value thin Alana? Is sick Alana mine when I want healthy Alana. Right now, when I am sick, fat, a part of me thinks that other thin, healthy Alana is more me. I’m just temporarily fat and sick Alana, on my way back to becoming real (thin and healthy) Alana. If I become terminally ill and my body doesn’t revert back to healthy Alana then will sick Alana be mine?  How can I even be more mine some of the time? Is mine based only on what I value, what I identify as?

So where is this mine? Is it like identity, value, is it in my head? Maybe in the minds of others? Is it constant and, if not, what does that mean?

I expect my objects to serve me. To make my life easier. To define my identity for myself and others. But what about all those times they make life more difficult? When they need fixing or finding or cleaning and care? What about when they don’t define me, as I want to be, when someone sees the clothes and thinks whore, the car and thinks excessive, the body and thinks fat?

Present Day Alana  looks around at her car, house, clothes, body, and not one of these things seems worth being enslaved. And yet, still, somehow, the whole kit-n-kaboodle of me and mine keeps driving me forward, ensnaring me in the trap of this world. I hope, I aspire, I dedicate the merit of this post, this blog, of my entire practice, of anything good I have ever done in my life to being free of me and mine.

In my life, I have moved around a lot. In the last 15 years I have lived in New Orleans, New York, Nashville, Atlanta, Houston and San Francisco. Six cities, 8 houses, you would think I would be a pro by now, that moving would be easy for someone like me. But the truth is, each move is torture. So much anxiety, such a deep sense of loss. When my husband started considering a job in Chicago, I started the old, familiar, pre-move panic. But this time around I had a tool I had not had in the past –the Dharma. So between all the wailing and gnashing of teeth, I began to consider what it was about an impending move that was so upsetting and to hunt down the wrong views that were causing me so much distress.

I started by considering past moves that had been particularly stressful. I tried to see if there was a common element — a house, a person, money, something that I worried about —  but, it was nothing so simple. Instead it boiled down to two main concepts:

1. Sense of belonging and identity in a place —
   1. When I went to college, I worked so hard to make friends, build an image, a reputation, for such a short time I was happy with what I had built, only to have to graduate and to let it go. I found myself severely depressed for the next 8 months.
   2.  I had actually never wanted to move to Texas, hated it when I arrived, but over my years there I built a connection with my Vajrayana religious community, when I left I was crushed and, in fact, almost returned after being in SF for less than 6 months.
   3. Here in SF I am enamoured with the idea of being an SF person, I have my job, my community, my day-to-day life all sorted-out. I don’t want to leave, this is my life, it is who I am…

Each place I have moved, I have felt like I belonged, like I was finally accepted, found a community, like I had become an Alana I always wanted to be. But, even with this thought, the lie begins to show through. Since being in SF my friends have changed, my neighborhood has changed, my religious community has changed, I have changed. If a city is about belonging, about being a certain Alana, how can these things have changed so radically while I have been here? Moreover, with each move, I retain many of the traits, relationships, sense of identity I built in the last place. If these things were so place dependent how can any of them survive a move?

       2)  Sense of stability, safety and predictability —

Which each move, I have been so devastated. Then, I proceed to fall in love with my new home as it become familiar to me. I  adjust, I adapt, my life takes on a certain pattern and in that pattern I see safety and  stability. The more I am able to settle into a routine, the more I feel I am in control, I can hedge against the scary, unexpected world that lies outside the structure I create –right up till my pattern is destroyed and its time to move again. The thing is, if New Orleans, or Texas or Atlanta or Tennessee had provided me with stability,  I would have never left.

My own experiences, my many moves, are evidence that a place, a routine, a community where I belong, simply can’t guarantee stability and predictability. Somehow though (despite 8 moves in 15 years) I think moving, loss of structure and control,  is an anomaly…

But, moving, changing, destabilizing are actually the nature of this world, they are woven into the fabric of my life. In fact, in many cases, these moves and changes are a consequence of my own choices, parts of tradeoffs I have made so I could get an education or stay married to an ambitious husband with a high powered job.

Moreover, when I really look back on all the things I didn’t want to lose, my friends in college, my Vajrayana community in Texas, my Dad in Atlanta — they aren’t even issues anymore. I wouldn’t want to hang out with most of my college friends now that I’m an adult, I don’t practice Vajrayana anymore and my Dad is long dead. So much suffering for stability that can’t be found, to preserve so many things that can’t be, that I wouldn’t really want to have, preserved….

I had an old friend, we’ll call her Ebony, come to visit. Ebony and I were dear friends in college and beyond, but we had drifted apart for 2-3 years before, out of the blue, she called to arrange a visit. I was so happy to see my friend when she arrived and even happier to see that she was happy and thriving in a way I had never seen before.

Ebony, though an amazing person and great friend, had her struggles. She struggled with anxiety and depression, drug use, health issues, school, relationships and jobs. But suddenly (from my perspective) the woman that appeared at my door was healthy, confident, productive and stable. I waited for a perfect moment to ask .. what the hell happened to the Ebony I knew?

Ebony recounted how, for years she was a ball of stress because she never graduated from college. You see, after 2 years as my classmate she had to drop out from stress related health problems. A few years later she returned to school, only to have to drop out again, this time from drug use. Over and over, for more than 15 years, my friend repeated the same cycle — stress at being a failure for not graduating forced her to re-enroll, stress from school made her sick, sickness destroyed her life in so many other ways. Still, in this time, she had managed to begin at a low level job and forge ahead until she had a really good, enjoyable, well paying career.

One day, before another re-enroll, she realized her problem — she defined her success as being a person who graduated from college, she, by her own definition was a failure. But, evidence in her own life forced her to challenge this view, after all, college made her a wreck every time, but  she had found professional success in another way. Suddenly, she was done, done with defining her success in one fixed way. Done trying to go back to school and sending herself through more cycles of suffering. Done calling herself a failure based on one thing while ignoring all the other success she had. Done being the Ebony I had always known.

As I sat attentively listening to my friend’s story, my mind was doing jumps for joy — the Dharma works! It friggin works! If it can work for Ebony, for a whole adult life of brokenness, there is hope for me too. Of course, my friend, who is not a Buddhist practitioner, wouldn’t put it in these terms, but her story was basically:

Deep wrong view (permanent thought about graduating =  success) propelled her into years of actions (re-enrolling) that hurt her. Collecting evidence (failure in school and success in other ways)allowed her to change her view. With her wrong view eliminated she was free of her cycle, free to do other things.

And all Alana really wants is to be free. Seeing Ebony, someone I knew so well, changed in such a dramatic way really impacted me. It was so simple, so clear, better than any outline or roadmap to practice I could have come-up with. This example, of how the dharma works, logically, naturally, as a basic feature of this world, really hit home. It gave me hope that Dharma is  not some impenetrable mystery outside the grasp of ordinary folks (after all my friend is ordinary like me, she isn’t even a Buddhist). The tools and techniques we all use to problem solve our way through our daily lives (turned towards the path) are all we really need. That, and once in awhile, a little inspiration from a friend.

After sharing the prior two contemplations with Mae Yo, I asked the following 3 questions for clarification. Mae Yo’s answers are in green below:

Question Part 1) From my contemplation it seems that sometimes karmic debt is something we create through feelings and interpretations of our own actions. Sometimes however it seems to be initiated by others. Is this correct and if so then whats the balance–how do I reconcile these two ideas? consequences?

Yes, karma works in both ways. Sometimes we do wrong, but don’t feel wrong and so we don’t take on that karma. Other times, we take on karma that isn’t ours to begin with (like feeling guilty about Eric’s move from NY, when you weren’t to blame). Other times, others hold us to certain debts…. it works just like the judicial system in this world.

Question Part 2) In so far as we have limited control of the karma we have already created and which we continue to create what do we do? I guess I feel a little like–how am I ever going to stop getting reborn if others can keep pulling me back. I am scared I’m trapped not just by my own failings of view (of which there are plenty) but also by others. The double whammy seems overwhelming.

There are two parts: 1. others pulling you to be born, and 2. you pulling others to be born

The way not to be reborn is to change your key viewpoints that have caused all those bad karmic acts that you are paying for now. It’s like trying to get a tree to stop producing leaves. You can pluck each leaf, each stem, each branch, or cut the trunk. Choosing each of those acts will result in different results. Once you cut the key viewpoint, the big branches or the trunk, the leaves won’t grow back in time to overwhelm you again.

Question Part 3) Is there anything else on this topic of Karma that is important for me to know/understand/contemplate?

When focusing on karma, you can hone in on the consequences…the revenge aspect. This is what makes the world go round.

Mae Yo’s thoughts about the Eric and NY story i.e. karma as something created by myself:  This is a very clear example of how you took on that karmic debt even though you may not have been responsible for it. It affected your thoughts, your actions, your speech. But once your view changed, this karmic debt can go away. This is how you can stop being reborn….it’s like outrunning the karmic cycle. It can’t keep up with you if you are cutting out wrong views and not just actions or speech.

Mae Yo’s thoughts about my examples of  where karma is created by someone else: There’s really no way to avoid these, and you may not want to avoid them either. They are the examples that teach us and move us forward in our practice. Without problems, we don’t challenge ourselves to find solutions. While we can’t avoid them, we can be better prepared…by doing what we’ve been doing, digging up our past actions and figuring out the whys and hows.

Alana’s Further Thoughts: About a month after these contemplations, Mae Yo told a story that really helped sharpen my understanding of karma. The story was that she once bought a truck from a guy and because there was a small problem with the truck she felt cheated. She felt she was owed something, like the scales of the transaction were not balanced. She said that because of this, he could have brought her back to this world, he could have been a karmic debtor. But, when she came to understand vengeance, to eliminate it through her practice, the truck salesman no longer had control over her. The connection was severed.

The story made it clear to me that, in the end, if the causes of our rebirth, our wrong views (in Ma Yo’s case, this was vengence), are eliminated, there is simply no force great enough to pull us back. I can’t think of a better reason to start uprooting my own wrong views…

I was starting to feel like, “oh, I totally get this karma thing”, It’s something I create through my thoughts (you can read the last blog post). Then, Mae Yo comes out with a Youtube Q and A — Karmic Creditor — and I feel like “oh shit, I am totally karma screwed”. The video was about the power our karmic creditors can have over us and it made me realize I better contemplate a bit more on how karma can be created by others…

My thoughts on karma as something generated by the intention and interpretation of others: In some ways it seems obvious — something I do, or the perception of something I do, colors another’s response to me and their response creates an impact on me. I see at least 3 subgroups:

1) Actions I knew were going to be a problem when I did them —  example: when I was in high school I tried to steal my bestfriends’ boyfriend. I knew it was a bad idea, that it was going to be hurtful, that there would be fallout, but desire outweighed my concern for consequence. For stuff like this, I feel I at least have a chance to put the brakes-on. I can consider the potential risks and determine if its worth it ahead of time.

2) Stuff I do which, at the time I didn’t foresee to be a problem but which I  later realize can be. This category, which I am grappling a lot with lately, is stuff I used to think was no problem but which now I’m starting to realize is dangerous. Example: I used to have the feeling that relationships with friends and family were relatively disposable. They could be nurturing mutually for a time, but when circumstances changed, they could be gently let go of and everyone would agree that its for the best when the calls or visits just stop. Only recently have I started to see that not everybody would just agree with my view and that there are old friends/family that I have hurt by ‘letting-go’. For some of these, where its appropriate, I have tried to be in contact a bit more and not be so neglectful . For other cases, I think action on my part would make things worse so I have refrained. But contemplation on the topic of my old friendships has shifted the way I create friendships now; it has made me wary. For a while I was pressuring Eric for us to make new couple friends, then I realized all the upkeep and time it would take and I just let go of the idea. This weekend an old friend invited me to go to a party and I thought — ugh, its going to put me in a place where I engage with folks who may want more engagement from me after the party ends, another dinner, a trip, etc. — I rather just avoid planting the seeds so I am getting together with my friend alone, but not going to a party.

Not that I’m avoiding all new friendships..just I am thinking very carefully about who I choose and why, not just to make connections that validate me or make me feel loved for a time (the way I think I used to see friendships). With this example I can see how as my understanding grows I have the opportunity to change my behaviors, or rather my behaviors shift on their own, and can be less dangerous. Still–its a process and I feel like I have already left a battlefield of destruction in my wake.

3) This is the group that scares me the most — stuff that I didn’t think could be a problem at the time and I am still unsure how to avoid. Into this category fall accidents as well as stuff where I did the best with the info I had at the time, but it still turned out badly. Example: at my first job my boss went away on vacation and left me in charge of the gala for a few weeks. Even after he returned the vendors and donors still continued contacting me and my boss was upset because he thought I was trying to take his job. For a while he made stuff very hard for me, micromanaged, etc.  I was doing my best with what I knew and what I believed was my job, but my boss’ perception played into creating a circumstance that had a real negative fallout. I don’t even know how to avoid stuff like this in the future.

So, which is it? Karma is initiated by us, our thoughts and interpretations. Or karma is something initiated by others. Is it both? Neither? What does this mean for me? For my ability to control the karma I create? Time for a little help from my teacher… stay tuned for the next blog where I ask Mae Y specific questions from my karma contemplations and share the answers I got.

I was reading a short story that got me thinking about Karma. The extra short version goes something like this…

A woman was sitting on a train trying to read, when a man came, sat down next to her and started talking. She was busy, not interested in a conversation, and politely found a way to excuse herself. The story ends with this man committing suicide by jumping off the train and the woman ravished by guilt that she may have been able to stop him, if only she had taken the time and talked to him.

As the reader, I certainly didn’t think the woman did anything wrong or that she was at fault for the man’s suicide. But the character in the story imagines it is her fault, she takes on the guilt, she creates the karma, the little black mark on her heart that one way or another she will pay for.

Naturally, my thoughts turned inward, to me, my life, and a parallel situation… Back when Eric and I first started dating he lived in New York and he liked it . He had a job as a programmer that he enjoyed and took pride in, it gave him lots of time for self improvement and hobbies as well. When I left for Grad School in Nashville I invited him to join me and he did. He went on to get a business degree and work in HR but he has never really liked his work as much as back when he was programming. He has been so busy and not had as much time for outside activities. For years and years I blamed myself for taking Eric away from his “goodlife” in NY. I felt like I had ruined his life and I owed him a special debt for it that I didn’t even know how to repay, even after we were married. I tried though…especially when it came to the topic of deciding when and where to move, I had a bias for yielding to Eric’s wishes so I didn’t again hurt him through a move.

It wasn’t until I started really thinking about control that my perception shifted— First off, I started seeing that there were some details about Eric’s “goodlife” in NY that my rosey memory had excluded. Eric was lonely and had been looking for a partner for a long time. He had tried numerous efforts to find a partner and still he had no real luck –coming with me and being my partner fulfilled a need of his own and wasn’t just a sacrifice for me. 9/11 happened and he lost his programming job and was actually between jobs when we went to Nashville. Eric had considered business school before we dated, but didn’t pursue it.. Thinking it through, I realized both that NY wasn’t all sunshine and there were lots of factors, other than myself, that influenced his decision to move. I realized that I had painted myself as the center of the story of Eric’s decision, his life, and blamed myself for my own perception of what went wrong. It was giving myself a bit too much credit ;).

As I began to see that I may have been a factor in Eric’s life change, but certainly wasn’t in control of it (not the cause) I really did feel my sense of indebtedness to him lessen. It hasn’t changed my day-to-day behaviors toward him so much, but in my heart I feel freer. It made me see how the way I interpret a situation  can color the sense of responsibility I have and the connections that that fosters.

Just like with the woman on the train, my belief that I caused Eric’s actions and the results that proceeded, burdened me, and created a sense of debt that played-out in my behaviors toward him. If I hadn’t investigated the wrong views underlying this guilt, it would likely still be playing-out and I would be saddled with a sense of debt I didn’t know how to repay.

So that’s it right? (drumroll for my very first karma though) We are the ones that interpret a behavior / situation, assign it emotional weight  and then create our karma. There is no one else out there assigning points for our actions, keeping score, no great being in the sky dictating that for action X you will receive result Y.. .all this stuff is happening in our hearts.

Clarity, karma is something I create. It’s all on me, in my head, in my heart, I got this. But not so fast….what happens when someone else karma zaps me??? Stay tuned for next week’s 2nd kamic contemplation, Karma as Something Generated by the Intention and Interpretation of Others…

Karma is one of those Bhuddisty topics that’s big, huge. Understanding it fully is equivalent to understanding the whole kit-n-kaboodle of how this world works, how we came to be born, the cycle we are stuck in and how to bring about its cessation. In other words, my details are pretty sketchy ;). Arguably it was way too big a topic for me at the time in my practice I began to consider it (the next entry dates back to 4/14 ) . Frankly it is still too big for me now… But I came across that dragon laying in my path and I poked at it…so, to be fair to my program of recording my path, I will share those contemplations, or rather the synopsis which took the form of an email with questions to Mae Yo and Neecha, in the next few posts.

First though, I feel like I want to give a little intro about Karma in broad terms

A Little Intro to Karma (to The Best of My Limited Ability)

So then, what is karma? Karma is quite simply the universal law of cause and effect that governs this world. Everything and everyone is subject to it, period. Period. The problem is, after that statement of fact, it gets a little fuzzy. That’s because no one, but the Buddha, can actually fully see someone’s karma —  i.e. the intersecting web of causes that leads to effects that in turn becomes more causes that have certain effects..and the snowballing continues. Add in countless lifetimes, and countless beings whose lifetimes are intersecting, and karma starts making quantum theory look simple.

So, rather than give myself massive migraines contemplating the unknowables of Karma, I like to use a parallel and think of karma like dark matter in the universe. Scientist can’t see dark matter, they don’t know exactly what it is, but they know it’s real because they can see its (gravitational) effects on the things around it.  With karma, we will never see the full picture, are never be able to point to that ‘one thing’ that was the definitive cause of that one effect, but we sure as heck can start seeing patterns and understanding likely consequences. Our experiences of its effects in our everyday life can prove to us karma is real.

So an example:  You can’t say I went and shot-up my neighbor’s house yesterday and that’s the reason my house was shot-up today. Afterall, plenty of folks who shot-up other people’s houses never have their houses shot-up, and many folks who have had their houses shot-up never did it to someone else. Nonetheless, you can begin to see that folks who are in gangs, who run around doing gangy things, like shooting-up houses, are way more likely than other folks to suffer some kind of gang violence themselves.  Or folks who bully and abuse are more likely to have been abused themselves (after all, we learn the behaviors from somewhere). Or folks who are generous and kind often receive favor and affection from others (because we do tend to favor the folks who have been kind to us). Again, none of these are fixed relationships, because no action takes place in a vacuum there are many circumstances and factors that feed a result, and yet…

And yet, karma is not magic and it is not fully unfathomable/unknowable. And that is probably the critical point for my contemplating on it and, for my sharing those contemplations with you in the posts to come. Because I have real examples of how when I was being a bitch (like to my friend Candy) I escalated fights and got bitchiness back, and when I stopped being a bitch fighting de-escalated and I got sweetness back.  So, I have learned that I can alter myself, my beliefs and (as a result) behaviors in order to change the effects I get.  I have also, as you will see in the next post, developed a healthy dose of concern, of cautiousness about the seeds I sow ( the karma I create) because frankly, I don’t want to get bitten by the bad stuff later on.

The next few posts will be about my initial karma contemplations.

We’ll begin this entry with a little civics lesson about the San Francisco jury selection process. Basically, everyone eligible to serve on a jury can be called on once a year. If summoned, you don’t necessarily need to go to court, you get place on stand-by. Each day you call in and see if you were selected to serve on the jury pool, if not, you simply need to call in the next day. If you make it a whole week without getting called in (woo hoo), you are free from jury service for another 12 months. Unless….

Back in late 2013, I got a jury summons. Each day I called-in praying my name would not get selected. Each day I was delighted by the news that I had been passed over for some other poor person who was wasting away their day sitting in court instead of me. By the end of the week I had avoided getting called and I was free for another year. Yipee!!!  Fast forward to Feb. 2014, I get a letter in the mail calling me to serve on  federal jury duty in Oakland. Apparently, folks who had served at a local court in the last 12 months were exempt; since I however had only been on stand-by, there was no way out of the federal jury summons. And, federal court is much worse than local, I had to go all the way to Oakland and cases tend to be much much longer…..

Suddenly, I was really wishing I had been called in back in 2013, if I had just done my service locally I  could have avoided the whole federal summons mess. That’s when it hit me, the very thing that brought me so much joy back in 2013 (not getting called for jury duty) was causing me so much regret just a few months later. I was so sure of what I wanted and then it changed so quickly. How much energy do I put into getting what I want? How much hope and worry, joy and sorrow, pierces my life based on these things? And then my desires can change so fast, they are so fickle, so mutable — is it worth it?

I thought about examples of this from my life:

• My husband got a job transfer and we were so so worried it would be the end of his career, something terrible. So much scheming and planning to avoid it and in the end it happened anyway. Turned-out to be a great move, better position, better work environment, more money, more career potential.
• I wanted to stay in Houston, my old town, so so much. I cried and screamed and pulled my hair when I found out we were leaving. Now I love San Francisco.
• I was so happy my neighborhood finally went to permit parking. I spent $250 on a sticker and then sold my car. I felt like I had wasted the money.  
• I was so excited to go on a trip to Kenya and then I got run down by a rhino–ouch.

Over and over again I throw my heart at a desire, I let desire be the line that connects the dots of my life, drags me from one point to another. Because I want some things and want to avoid others, my life is a constant roller coaster of highs and lows, joys and disappointments, sweet success of achievement and deep despair over loss.  But, how long does the desire, the thing I invested so much energy and hope in even last? Even if I get my desire, look how fragile it is —  a federal jury summons can transform a past victory (avoiding local jury duty) to a regret in the time it takes to open an envelope…

It is worth noting that before this contemplation I was already aware that I was the one who made the rules, decided what was desirable or undesirable in every circumstance/occasion (see http://alana.kpyusa.org/what-kind-of-a-throws-a-sponge-on-the-ground-in-this-beautiful-unspoiled-forest/). But I really thought that I knew what I wanted, that once I decided it stuck. Now I began to see the very things I want can change over time. It thew a new element of uncertainty, of impermanence into the mix. It further built the case that I am playing a game, that in the end I really can’t win…after all even a victory can turn into a defeat so fast.

Note from the present day: This story was one of my early contemplations on the slights and discomforts I face in my everyday life. The slights and discomforts I invite on in, in exchange for those sweet, snowy, moments I desire. As suffering goes, these little blips are barely perceptible and so easily forgotten. But it is actually their normality,  their pervasiveness, that make them such compelling evidence of the trade offs, the sufferings for enjoyments, I chose. Because the ‘sufferings’ are so ‘small’ I will bold the ones I caught in my story. Perhaps you, Dear Reader, can catch a few more…

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Needless to say, us Miami girls don’t get too many snow days growing up. So, when a friend invited me to use his cabin in Tahoe on the weekend a big blizzard was set to strike, I was excited like a kid in a candy store (on a snow day).  

Eric and I drove up on Friday and I set the alarm for frightfully early on Sat. when the snow was supposed to start — I didn’t want to miss out on even a moment of snow. 6 AM, no snow. 7 AM no snow, 8 AM no snow. For hours I paced, between the window and the weather report on TV, just waiting for my winter wonderland to begin.

Before the first flakes hit the ground at 8:30, I was pestering my husband to get up and get ready to go play in the snow. Annoyed, he complied, dressing and grumbling, driving and rolling his eyes, till we got up to one of the ski lodges where we could spend the day and watch the snowy show.

Except, since we weren’t actually guests in the lodge, I had to earn my keep, ordering mediocre food, too many drinks, the massages, all stuff I didn’t really want to have or to have to pay for. But all worth it in my mind for the dazzling winter display on the mountain.

As the snow got harder however Eric and I started to worry about getting back down the mountain again. Slowly, anxiously, we drove down the icy roads back to our cabin below. We made it so far, got so close, only a mile left to the cabin and off the road we drift into a huge pile of snow.

The car was stuck.  As I assessed the reality of being stuck, in the freezing cold, getting dark, side of the road in Tahoe, my inside voice is just screaming, “fuck fuck fuck”. I used my outside voice to call AAA, “What do you mean there is a 7 hour wait for roadside assistance …  fuck fuck fuck.”

We walked the last mile back to the cabin and we waited. Of course, we eventually go the car towed out. By morning, the roads had been cleared, the sun was shining, and we drove back to SF where we lived happily ever after. The End.

Waaaaiiiittt a  sec, not soooo fast on that fairytale ending.  

On the way home, I caught myself planning for the next time; what I would do different, the tire chains I would bring, the more central lodge I would stay at, the tweaks I could make (control) to have the pretty snow, but without the slights, the inconveniences. Hell, maybe I could even figure out how to get the snow without it being so darn cold…

The snow, it was pretty, for sure (at least until I ended in a ditch filled with it), but was it worth it? Once the sun had come out,  and I had hindsight on the prior day, it all started feeling like an adventure, a fun story to tell friends, a trial, for sure, but one I had come-out on the top of. But, I couldn’t help wonder, when will it be enough? What if I got hurt? If Eric was hurt? If the car had required pricey repairs?

Even without it getting too serious, when do all those slights and pin pricks add up to pain? What do they show me about this world? About what my life is made of? About what shadow side comes lurking with my desires and the pleasure of fulfilling them?

Present day Alana can’t help wonder if the little pains I incurred chasing my small snowy dreams might have been a warning to me. If I had really understood, would I be suffering so hugely today with the disappointment and aggravation of a NY life incurred by chasing my big NY dream? I dedicate this blog to learning my own lessons, absorbing them deep in my heart, so that one day, I am free of making the same mistakes over and over again.

On the tail of so much travel —  India, Hawaii —  it’s wasn’t terribly surprising that my To Do list was insanely long. Doctors visits and  taxes to pay and calls to make, oh my. What did strike me as odd though was the feeling in my heart as I looked at the list, it might as well have said “lions and tigers and bears oh my.”

I sat at my desk, carefully writing out each to do, creating sublists of my list on sticky notes that I would obsessively arrange and then re-arrange. With each bullet, each sticky note overhaul, my heart craved calm, soothing, a sense of order and control. But soothing never came, I just looked at my list and panicked. In my mind, that list, was an indictment of my own limitations of control. It was a series of tasks each of which I could fail, any of which could prove me to be a failure. And in that moment, I realized, what was happening in mind might actually be crazy…let’s have a look at the wrong views:

• Wrong view 1: That control is even possible.   But really, if I were in control, would I have a huge todo list in the first place? Would I be overwhelmed by it? I don’t want these tasks, I don’t want to feel burdened by them, if my control was real, I could just eliminate them altogether, or at least eliminate the overwhelmed feeling that comes with them. The problem is already evidence that I don’t control.

• Wrong view 2: That  if I could just number and order all the tasks of my life, they would be in my power to control. Crazy list making Alana ignored the possibility that even a perfect list did not ensure I controlled each item and its outcome. Or that I can never really be master of a  list that doesn’t really end, there are always more items to add on (impermanence). Or that sometimes things get done on their own, or don’t end up needing to be done at all, list or not.

• Wrong view 3: Deeper still was what control over the items on my list meant to me. If I control I am a successful adult, someone who is mature and responsible and all adulty and stuff. Because, thinks crazy Alana,  folks who don’t make lists, who don’t control, are always failures right? List making, controlling, is what it means to be an adult (permanent). If I fail, if I drop the ball, if even one call falls through the cracks, what kind of person am I?

• Wrong view 4: The deepest fear, the heart of the matter, if I fail, if I am someone who is not in control, people will judge me and find me lacking. More than anything else, I wanted this list to protect me from looking like a lazy fool, from being someone others see as immature, undependable, irresponsible. Of being someone who is unlovable. But, I started to gather the evidence and question… is it true?

Does everyone even value control the way I do? If my friend Sue valued control would she have been so over weight? And do I even value control absolutely in other people? Mae Yo, my super ninja teacher, often says folks don’t listen to her. If even Mae Yo can’t control her students is control the ultimate measure of success? Do I judge my teacher harshly for her lack of control? When I was a vegetarian I controlled my diet, but did others love me more? In truth most of my family thought I was a pain in the ass to have dinner with.

The truth is, as long as I live in this world, there will be a todo list. A series of obligations, duties, I ought to try my best to fulfill. But the list, it says nothing about me beyond that I am a part of this world.

As a great lover of all things lovely, I couldn’t resist going to my local museum for a special butterfly exhibit when it came to town. Part of the exhibit featured glass cases where cocoons were carefully pinned at the tip so that the butterflies inside could hatch and then fly away.

One butterfly however wasn’t so lucky, its cocoon had been pinned too far down and its wing had been caught. I watched the butterfly struggle to free itself, but it was hopeless, that beautiful creature was dead before it was even fully born.

Something at first seemed unnatural about the situation. But then I realized I had seen this before, things dead before being born. My new cellphone that broke was dead before I had really gotten to use it. I had started a relationship once with a guy I knew was moving in 2 weeks, the relationship was dead before it was born. I had  bought a house in Texas and we moved to San Fran a few months later, it was gone before I had settled in and made it mine. In the end, duration is uncertain.

But still, even as I compiled the evidence in my head that this was just one more case of impermanence, of limited duration, I was getting more deeply upset. It just didn’t seem right that the the butterfly was so beautiful, had earned its beauty by struggling out of its cocoon, and was dying nonetheless.

Squiggly line flash back ———————-I had been at an event for donors at Zen Hospice several years before  and a story from one of the caregivers had really shaken me up. She had been caring for a young women, funny, beautiful, a porn star by occupation, and dead of a brain disease before she hit 30. It stuck with me all these years, because, like the butterfly, it didn’t seem right. Young and beautiful shouldn’t die.

In fact, in my mind, beauty is control and death is out of control. The two should be opposites. But the porn star, the butterfly, they were telling me a very uncomfortable truth. All my primping, exercising, lotions and potions, all my efforts to be and stay beautiful, can’t keep me safe. Like that butterfly, my duration is uncertain, my efforts don’t earn me a pass on death, my beauty, already fading anyway, is not an antidote to immpermacne.  

In my Buckle-up Buddhisty period, I strengthened the foundations of my practice by building a scaffold to support my future contemplations. I took specifically Buddhist ideas and applied my experiences to understanding them. Thanks to this effort, I got a glimpse of the the inner workings, the systems, my own mind uses to keep me deluded (Alana’s 2s and 3s) and stuck suffering (Where my Mind Visits HW series) and the process the Buddha outlined to set myself free (the Four Noble truths).

As fancy, fascinating and frustrating as all those big Buddhisty ideas are, the Buddhist path really does play out in everyday life. The next phase of my blog/practice returns, more or less, to my everyday life, to  what is happening and what I am experiencing,  as the starting point for my contemplations. But…now, super amped-up thanks to the clarity and precision that understanding the inner workings of my mind and the path gave me.

I offer again, extra special super duper gratitude to my teacher, Mae Yo, for giving me the guidance I needed to build that scaffolding when my practice was ripe for it.