Alana's Dharma Blog

Eric and I decided to take a day trip up to the ‘country’; we went to visit a little town in Northern Connecticut where a famous Manhattan architect, Philip Johnson, had built his getaway home, The Glass House. The home, as the name suggested, was a midcentury style glass box,  surrounded by other architectural marvels, nestled in lush woods. The place was stunning — a home, and a setting, on which fantasies are built.

We joined a tour to learn a bit more about the architect and the history of the home. The docent explained that Johnson would spend 3 days a week at The Glass House and then return to Manhattan for the other 4 days to live in his NY apartment and work. When visitors to The Glass House asked about how he could ever want to leave, he explained he was always ready to go back to NY because the boredom of the country was too much by day 3, and always ready to head to the country because the stress of NY was too much by day 4.

On the face of it, it seemed like this architect had the prefect arrangement, he had managed to build himself a perfect life. In my own plans, I was working toward a similar arrangement: Eric and I want to retire with a country home and a city home, we want to split our time between two places that stimulate us in different ways. This is what drives us, it is the reason we endure Eric’s abusive jobs, why we scrimp and save and endure living arrangements and cities we hate.

The more I thought about it though, the more troubled I was by Johnson’s reply: If the country home had been satisfying why did he feel compelled to rush off to the city just days after getting there? If the city were satisfying why was he eager to escape to the country in another few days time? This wasn’t the perfect life, it was a life filled with longing, with restlessness and boredom — a life that wherever you are, somewhere else soon seems better. Is this really a life I want to emulate?

In my imagination, if I just have 2 homes I can travel between them and find fulfillment.  But the fact I always want more, to seek out new places, to have second homes, to move and travel, is a pretty big hint —  what the pattern tells me is I’m not satisfied. None of the many particular living arrangements I  have had to date, (one of which actually included 3 homes) has managed to satisfy me, so why would they start to be satisfying at some future fantasy date?

Seeing a homeless person on the street on my way to work, I decided on a different path, one that let me steer clear of the guy and his panhandling. It annoys me so much to feel pressured to produce change, to give just because I am asked; the truth is, I don’t think those random homeless folks  deserve my money. Of course, this begs another question — why do I feel I deserve my money?  Is the money even really ‘mine’?

When it comes to money (or stuff, or good fortune, or love, or success) I know I deserve it because I have it.  That part is pretty straight forward and clearly true: If you experience a result, the causes for that result have  been put in place, in other words,  I ‘deserve’ the result.  But the problems begin when I see the reasons, or the results, of my getting money as proof it is mine. This ignores that reasons — causes — are always changing. Just because today reflects yesterday’s causes it doesn’t guarantee a particular future. If the future is uncertain, if my state and my stuff can change, can leave me, at any time, can it truly be MINE?

Eric and I decided to do a spa day at a fancy hotel in Miami. As we entered through the spa doors it felt like we were transported to a Spanish palace garden– a candle-lit courtyard dotted with lush trees, surrounding a fountain. A deep wave of relaxation washed over me, I hadn’t even had a spa treatment yet and I was already feeling as pampered as royalty. And then, suddenly I “sobered-up” and realized we were still indoors. My mind recoiled a bit, everything about the scene was so familiar –reminiscent of the perfect Spanish garden — even though I knew we never walked out of the building, I had mentally processed the place as being outdoors. I had processed it as a place of luxury and comfort and royal pampering, like the countless historic castles I had visited in Spain. My eyes saw familiar trappings– rupa — and my memory and imagination (nama)  filled-in “realities” that weren’t actually real. I had literally caught my mind in the act of  manufacturing meaning in my surroundings, and then getting me to swallow my made-up fantasy, even with abundant evidence  (like never leaving the building) that proved those fantasies as false.

I had a dream/vision –one of those almost asleep , but still awake and thinking states that can be a real boon to practice. In it I saw a huge tower of stuff –my stuff– piled high, like bricks, but precariously balanced. I felt like it might topple at anytime. There were physical items like clothes, cars, pictures, people, jewelry, money, my body. There were also items that represented more abstract stuff, my college diploma that stood in for my knowledge and skills, office items that stood in for my career experience, all sorts of workout equipment for my physical training  and prowess. Each layer was set upon the one below it, dependent on what was below for stability. The tower was wobbly though, and I found myself running around trying to patch holes and make repairs; I felt panic knowing that it was so fragile, tired out by the unending need to  patch and fix.

When I got myself back to being fully awake, I thought about the tower more. I realized my whole life is like this –continually building and acquiring, in order to support this body, to have enjoyment, to become the alana I want to be. But if any object, if any layer of my past accomplishments fail, the whole structure I have built is at risk.  It is so stressful to worry about the inevitable collapse. It is so exhausting to tend and to build. And as soon as my body dies, the tower will crumble to the ground in an instant, no matter what height it had soared to before.

Once this body is gone, all I worked so hard for, the objects, the degrees, the professional skills, the relationships I have nurtured, the fitness and beauty, it is just gone. My accomplishments are useless in my next endeavor, I am unrecognizable to friends, my savings are left behind. When this body dies Alana is game over and I need to start the tedious, exhausting process of building it all from scratch over again.  This is the problem with relying on rupa –rupa is unreliable.

I saw from this dream how burdensome it really is to build the life I do, how stressful and, brief, the fruits I enjoy from my labors really are. It was a little spur, a motivation to keep pushing on my practice so I don’t have to persist in building precarious towers to nowhere only to watch them collapse over and over again.

I was reading a comic book version of the story of Ananda. In it, he and a number or his noble friends decided to depart from their worldly lives and go ordain as monks to follow the Buddha. Heading out into the forest to find the Buddha they stop along the way and decide to disrobe of all their finery. In the story it says that since they are going to become monks, they don’t need these things any more.  That moment, the giving up of what is not needed any more –without any pain, or anguish, or fuss — really struck me. It got me to start thinking about what it means when I think I still need something versus don’t need it any more.

Again, I thought of that Corvet I rented on my road trip to Florida. I had planned to drive it from Orlando to Miami and when the trip was done I returned it without a fuss. I felt no sorry, no regret, because my trip was done, I didn’t need it anymore. Why didn’t I think I needed it anymore? Because I imagined no further continuation of my journey; my vacation was over, my plane tickets to fly home from Miami already purchased, my mind was already spinning a new story. Just as Ananda and his cohort had already imagined up a new future for themselves in the monkhood.

On the other hand, when I think I still need something –when my mind is still wrapped up with a future I imagine with it, when it is still MINE — there is tremendous suffering when I part ways with it. When I lost my wedding ring, I was inconsolable, after all, I still NEEDED it. I needed it to prove my status, to prove I was someone beloved and cared for, to prove my worth and my specialness. After the ring was lost though, after the thing I NEEDED left me, life went on.  The world kept turning,  I remained beloved to my husband and my marriage kept-on-keeping-on.

I get so obsessed, open myself up to the pain of loss, because I imagine future needs. But in truth, once something is no longer with me, how can I possibly need it anymore? Not having that thing simply means there will be a different future, one in which, by defection, I can’t possibly need the thing I don’t have any more in order for it to occur. What I mourn isn’t an object, it was the future I imagined I would have with it: I mourn the loss of something I never actually had.

Years later, I don’t actually miss my wedding ring at all. Not only has life moved on, but my imagination has too: I built a new imaginary future, using new objects (like a Porsche) to ‘prove’ my specialness and worth.  And while I go about claiming new things, things I NEED to populate my new imagined future, I am laying the groundwork for new pain and despair when those new things inevitably leave me as well.   Maybe it is time to re-think what it is I actually ‘need’.

By the end of 2019, my contemplations around rupa that had begun during the retreat, had grown increasingly more refined. While at times those contemplations seemed stunted or fragmented, I had moments where they really began to gel into a cohesive understanding. Though self and self belonging –grounded in rupa — are a prevalent theme of the time,  I also began to  expand my considerations and explore the role of nama, particularly imagination, in bolstering my wrong views of ownership.

In early December Mae Neecha asked for my help editing the translation of a sermon LP Thoon had given at a retreat in Virginia in 1998. The process naturally provoked a lot of Dhamma contemplation for me and was a catalyst for my beginning to be able top piece some disparate angles into a more comprehensive understanding around the relationship between desire, clinging, my sense of self, and the objects I use to bolster that  idea of self.

I had an exchange with Mae Neecha when I returned my first bunch of edits that really captures and synthesizes many of the themes and ideas I had been contemplating on around this time. In the next few blogs I will share that conversation and some of the other thoughts I had around the time I was helping edit the sermon.

I had actually started on the sermon  edits last week when I was visiting with Eric’s parents in Chicago, and you were right, it was a good nudge to my practice to read these; actually it made me realize I wasn’t quite as stuck as I thought I had been …I have been contemplating a lot lately, trying to tie back to the topics I covered over the summer, it just hasn’t been quite as orderly and tight, so it feels more scattered and less like ‘progress’. I’m starting to think though its just stuff waiting to gel further when the time is right.

Around the time Mae Yo was peppering me with video clips, I saw something of my own that really pierced my heart. I had started watching True Bloods on HBO and the opening credit sequence just blew me away. I have attached the video here for reference:

While many of my contemplations are technical: An exploration of worldly or mental processes, or cause and effect, when I saw this video my response was  just visceral. This is how the world really looks without ‘make-up-on’ and it is not pretty. I watched it again and again, sometimes pulling out a piece of paper and making a list of what I saw, or calling out loud what the video demonstrates this world really  boils down to: Desire, delusional hope, violence, desire, violence, hate, aging, death, desire, decay ,hate, delusional hope, desire, decay, violence, delusional hope, birth, delusional hope, birth.

I could clearly see that the images were changing in their details, but the world is just on a loop. Same shit, different day. Desire, delusional hope, violence, desire, violence, hate, aging, death, desire, decay ,hate, delusional hope, desire, decay, violence, delusional hope, birth, delusional hope, birth. Each time I watched it I wondered how this is what I keep coming back for.

This a continuation of the last blog. If you haven’t read previously then please go back and read ‘Part 16’.

My Dear Reader, I thank you for bearing with me on this looooonnnggg recap of my early 2020 “interruption in our regularly scheduled program (an orderlyish, linearish blog tracing my meandering dhamma path)”, this here was the final recap post of that  Post-Retreat Interruption Series. It is simply a brief reflection of what I had come to understand my path to be.

A long time ago, I asked Mae Neecha what it really meant to eliminate sakkāya-diṭṭhi (first fetter – self-view – necessary to be eliminated in order to become a sotapanna). She replied, “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 there’s a huge difference between your perception of the truth and the actual truth.”

Now, years later, this answer is starting to make more and more sense to me.

We inhabit a rupa body in a rupa world. In this world, elements are constantly interacting. They are shifting. They are decaying and building new forms. They consume and they become consumed. There are predictable patterns, a balance that exists in a world where things arise from the earth and return to it, a zero-sum equation. There are rules, and to be born into this world is to be subject to these rules. I go through life pretending my objects will obey me, my body will obey me, but there is no amount of effort/ self-deception, that will ultimately make me master of this world( not even my little corner of it). The world simply does not revolve around me.

Even more years ago, Mae Yo taught me about the nama aggregates — especially memory (3) and imagination (4). She checked my homework, she drilled me continually, she made sure I was fluent in how they work. Now, I am starting to understand why.

It is because memory and imagination are integral to the process by which I concoct the delusion that the world revolves around me. With nama’s help, in my head, I reshape the world: I substitute reality with my ‘shoulds’/ notions about how things ‘ought’ to be, and I turn a blind-eye to what the world actually is. Nama is the blinders I put on that help me drown out the ugly bits of this world that lurk just outside my rose-colored glasses. Nama is the elixir I take that gets me believing a lovely single-snapshot-moment can be had and kept and repeated forever.

This path is the process of opening my eyes and seeing the world for what it actually is, not for what I want it to be. I suppose I am also understanding why Mae Neecha told me, “This is why Luang Por told Mae Yo, “ Rupa and Nama, 50/50.” Once we understand the tangible and intangible, we’ll have the whole picture.”

This a continuation of the last blog. If you haven’t read previously then please go back and read  ‘Part 15’.

In this blog, I will begin just after the last blog left off and end with a much more recent contemplation, from 6 months later, when I circled back to the topic of meaning in rupa and found a new depth and clarity.

If you recall, in the last blog I came to realize a big mistake: All this time, I looked at arrangements of 4es and knew they reflected something, so I just assumed that something was meaning. But it’s not meaning at all, it’s just a collection of reasons reflected in results.

But how did I get to such a mistaken view in the first place? It is that I see some of reasons, reflected through rupa, and my nama monsters kick-in. When I see a form that seems familiar, pattern recognition (memory) “informs” me of what is likely to come next. I hit a button; I get an Amazon box. I hit a button; I get an Amazon box. I hit a button; I get an Amazon box. Imagination now has all the ammo it needs to run wild: Rupa of button = guaranteed future box. And since, in general (when I close one eye and selectively ignore evidence to the contrary), the items I buy from Amazon make my life more convenient, I begin to believe Amazon box means convenience.

For some amount of time this ‘pattern recognition” can be close enough to predictive that it not only imparts ‘meaning’ in those buttons and boxes, it feeds my ego too. It reinforces the 3s(memory) and 4s (imagination), makes them believe they are omniscient. I hit the button I get the box. Because I don’t see all the interworking between button and box, suddenly I think I am the cause, or at least a partial cause, or at least that I know what the world will bring – a box.

My mind has become so convinced of my Amazon Narrative that even when I hit the button and don’t get a box, I can convince myself these instances are anomalies. I never stop to gather all those never received boxes up as evidence of my flawed vision of the relationship between button and box or my incomplete understanding of the Amazon supply chain. I have rigorously trained myself to ignore each and every glitch in the matrix.

Now the world is faced with a global pandemic. A shift, a new world order that is, in just a few short weeks, so radically different in so many ways. Suddenly, I find that more and more of those Amazon packages are coming late, or not coming at all. Now, in every part of my life, the patterns I was that I was confident in, have shattered, so much is unrecognizable and unpredictable.

Back at the retreat, Mae Neecha offered a re-framing, of a wrong view —  she called it a case of “incomplete information.” This pandemic has made me see that all my expectations, all the meaning I read into rupa, the outcomes I expect, are based on incomplete information. They are based on the past. The past however is over, the future will always be something different than the past, this is the law of impermanence. The world has not been fooling me. Rupa has not been fooling me. I have been fooling myself.

This a continuation of the last blog. If you haven’t read previously then please go back and read ‘Part 14’.

As a recap: My contemplations had landed me in another ‘stuck spot.’ Namely, I had come to recognize that every arrangement of rupa contains only 4 elements. But, somehow, I still believed that there was a deeper meaning — loved/just/fair/safe/etc. — reflected by rupa. Moreover, it seemed like rupa could portends the future, if only I could ‘interpret’ it correctly…

Of course, logic dictated I must be mistaken. Its not like meaning is a 5^th element after all. But to make my heart see the truth, I had to start dissecting my mistaken beliefs more closely. I had to consider why I was fooling myself and how I was continually ‘finding’ meaning and guarantees in rupa that simply couldn’t exist.

For months, I collected evidence (some of which was shared in the last blog), I kept turning the question over in my head, trying to find an angle of attack. But, in truth, it was slow going.

I was looking at a painting one day and started analyzing the marks. In painting, every time a brush hits a canvas it is called a ‘mark’; it is a term used to describe different lines, patterns, textures, etc. that are made manifest by the artist.

It dawned on me that each mark has its reasons (aka causes) for occurring. There are rupa based reasons –the 4es of the paint, the canvas, the hand of the painter, the training to become an artist. There are reasons in nama: The desire that made the artist want to paint this picture, the things their imagination conjured up to paint. There are reasons behind these reasons, how the artist was born a human, how and why they trained as an artist, their memories and beliefs about art. While there is no possible way for me to see/understand each and every reason that resulted in a mark, those reasons are all there, reflected in each brush stroke as well as the painting as a whole.

My mistake: All this time, I looked at arrangements of 4es and knew they reflected something, so I just assumed that something was meaning. But it’s not meaning at all, it’s just a collection of reasons reflected in results.   

But wait there is more: When I dissect any arrangement of rupa down further, it becomes clear that each reason just backs up into further reasons. Let’s take a very simplified look at the purchase of my favorite green purse as an example: When my favorite green purse wore out, I went on a scavenger hunt in order to replace it. Why? Because I thought it meant that I was special to my husband. Why? Because one time he made a sweet comment about recognizing me from miles away if I was wearing the purse. Why? Because the purse was bright green and easy to see. Why? Because bright green was the color of choice the season I bought it. Why? Ask the fashion industry. Why did I buy a purse that season? I had started going to the gym over lunch and needed a big bag to carry my shoes. Why? I used to go to the gym in the morning before work, but I had started doing yoga in that time slot. Why…

I could go backwards forever and ever and all I would find is an infinite current of reasons. A current is always moving, it is my mind that ‘freeze frames’ a form at a particular moment in time and begins reading the bits of its history that I can see into a meaning and a future. Stay tuned, next time we will peak at the little gears in my brain to see how this all happens.

In the wake of my cake baking contemplation and seeing the extreme limits on my control/tendency to use rupa arrangements to define who I am, I had gone to get my nails done. About a week later, looking down at them, I caught myself feeling surprised that the polish had started chipping so soon. At lightning speed, I caught myself thinking, “I have been being so careful with them.” Then it hit me– it’s not about me. My actions are a single, small factor, in nail polish staying. It is chipping because that is what happens to polish left alone for a while.

My mind went immediately to Dharma Meltdown 2.0,  when I panicked that I got my light colored  pants dirty, that I could never keep white clean, that it was a sign I was a bad Buddhist. For the first time I clearly saw it — dirt on white is not an indictment of me, it isn’t about me, my ego is lying. White gets dirty, that is a natural, expected state of white cloth over a long enough life cycle. At most, I am a factor in temporarily keeping white clean. I am reading meaning into Rupa that simply isn’t there.  There is no innate meaning that lives inside of 4es that is just waiting to be penetrated by me, Alana the Great Rupa Whisperer.

I started collecting evidence to prove that I am the one who reads meaning into rupa. Because if the meaning of an arrangement doesn’t live in the arrangement itself, can the arrangement create meaning (i.e. identity) in the arranger?

1) The meaning I assign to things keeps changing thanks to new information or new beliefs. So my ex-boyfriend’s emails used to mean I was special, loved, that someone so smart must see that same intelligence in me. Now when he emails I feel little, he is my ex after all. My NY home was supposed to prove I had a nest from which to build my NY fabulousness, but then I decided I didn’t want to be NY anything and that same home became a burden I struggled to sell. My car used to make me feel so on top and clever and then, when I went to sell it, at a huge loss it made me feel foolish and duped (here is the car story).

2) I don’t even consistently apply meaning to like objects. I was thinking about a fancy car I rented for some vacay. I remember someone complemented me on it as we pulled out of the gas station. Out loud, I said “thanks,” but in my head I was thinking I don’t own this car, it is a rental, it’s nothing for me to be proud of…and yet, when someone complemented my Porsche, my heart swelled with pride. But wasn’t the Porsche on loan too? Something I used for a time and then parted ways with. Simply the act of believing something is mine changed my meaning of it. The reality however is the only difference between that rental can and ‘my Porsche’ was the duration of use. That, and my imagination.

3) Even if there is some characteristic ‘proven’ in an arrangement of Rupa I help create, it doesn’t adhere to me, it is literally over once the arrangement ends. That mandolin player played a concert virtousically, he created a sound that the people in the room found beautiful. But then as soon as it was done, it was done. He likely took it home – that ego puff – took it to mean something about him later, but how could some past arrangement say something about present him? It literally exists nowhere but memory, so how could meaning in the rupa carry forward?

4) There are times that ostensible meaning of rupa remains, even when the person it is supposed to point to, to define, is already gone. I had recently gone to a museum that has an extensive collection of Sol LeWit wall paintings and something struck me hard – a number of the paintings were dated after he had died. I wandered around till I found a plaque that explained, LeWit left intricate instructions for his paintings, but by design they were meant to be able to be replicated on walls by other artists on his team. He insisted the date written on paintings was not the day they were created by him, but rather the day they went up on the wall. The result is that  the date of his creation, the object that proves his skill and artistry, was posthumous. It is not like the painting happened and then he died, rather he died and then the painting happened, so how could the painting create an identity in him? The only answer possible is that it can’t, it never does.

When I started thinking about my husband, Eric, I started to see the mechanics inside the clock – the way that my own aggregates clobber onto form, assign it meaning, and then reflect that meaning back onto myself.

I take Eric’s sammuti (supposed form) and give it a meaning: special, discerning, generous, good, handsome, mine and then I use the object and the meaning I create to build and define me. Wife, beloved of someone so great, worthy of treatment so kind. This is the way my mind uses rupa; gives it meaning and then reflects the meaning back to reference me, to build me.

The other night I was watching a show and the Golden Gate Bridge flashed on the screen — immediately I thought “mine” and ‘home” and I wanted to be there. As I reflected on my feeling, I realized this moment sort of summed-up a place I have been stuck: I know a bridge is just rupa, there is nothing in it except for 4es, and yet it seems to say more. It seems to have meaning, where meaning is an abstract ideal like loved, or just, or home and/or to offer  some guaranteed future outcome — like crossing the Golden Gate, in my fancy car, with the top down, holding Eric’s hand, laughing at some joke, as we embark on happily ever after adventure.

Stay tuned…in the next blog we will look at how I started to un-stick this very stuck point.

After all of my contemplations I was beginning to see that there was nothing innately special in my objects or my body. Just varying, shifting arrangements of 4 elements. I knew I was not my arrangements, and yet, I couldn’t shake the belief that those arrangements, and my ability to bring them about, must prove something about ME. Alana the great arranger!  I knew I had a huge wrong view remaining – that because I am a partial cause for an outcome, that outcome must prove my identity. What follows is a synopsis of some of the discrete contemplations I used to attack this view.

Beaver dam:

I was out hiking and came across a beaver damn. The dams are quite common out here in Connecticut and after seeing the zillionth one, I was hardly impressed. But…shouldn’t I be? I mean here was Beaver the Great Arranger of Dams: the little animal worked hard to cause its dam, this one indeed did look a little bigger and more symmetrical than the rest I had run into. But, in my mind a dam is just what beavers do, there is nothing special – no identity that I assign a beaver – because of its dam.

So, why do I look at things I build/cause, the particular arrangements of my wardrobe, my home, my body, and feel they make me special? Isn’t all this shit just stuff humans do? That’s when it hit me – I am the one assigning value – identity bestowing meaning — to some results/arrangements while ignoring others. A beaver dam is just what beavers do, but my elaborate wardrobe makes me a fashionista. My greatness only exists (in my own mind) because I am self-selecting the qualities with which to build my identity.

What’s more is I have a tendency to get caught-up in details, to use small differences to further sell myself the identity lie. So humans have all figured out how to use bags/baskets/trays to carry stuff, but my LV bag versus your Gap bag is what makes me so special. But the thing is, some beavers have access to better wood, better location, they have more strength or less human encroachment and can build a better dam. So? That is normal. As is the fact that that very same beaver can lose their dam, a forest fire or a building project can make wood scarce, etc. That some humans, some times, can have LV bags and others can’t, that is normal too. Normal and subject to change. So how am I using it to prove something special, something meaningful, something ME, about me?

My friend the baker:

A friend of mine went to culinary school and I always think of him as ‘the baker’. Even when he hasn’t cooked for me in a while, even after he got a job doing something totally unrelated, he remained “a baker” in my mind. But how does an action, done at distinct points in time bestow an identity?

I suppose I could justify a fixed ‘baker identity’ if a  cake he made, even once, stayed steady-state forever… but, without fail, each and every baked item gets consumed, or goes stale, or ends up in the compost bin. I started thinking hard about why that is, why no cake ever just keeps its perfect, post oven, glory and I realized it is in the nature of the 4 elements itself.

Left uninterrupted things that are hot, like cakes out of the oven, tend to cool. Wet/moist things tend to dry. Solid things tend to disintegrate. Movement comes to a halt. In time, all arrangements tend to go back to the states indigenous to their elements. So how can the identity of the arranger stay the same when the arrangements themselves keep shifting, decaying, following the rules of rupa rather than the rules of the arranger. What baker wouldn’t bake the ever-perfect cake if they could?

A trip to the eye doctor:

I was on my way to the eye doctor the other day and got to thinking about the suffering in my day so far. I realized that since I had awoken, I had been at low level stress trying to get to the appt on time. I felt rushed, worried. I realized the suffering wasn’t just my desire to make the appointment, it was arising because of my belief that being on time to the appointment proves what kind of person I am: If I am on time, it proves I am a considerate person, someone good, someone who cares about the life and time of others. I want desperately to be that kind of a person and I can’t face an identity as an inconsiderate bad person, as a late patient, that would disprove who I believe I AM.

The problem is, I use Rupa world shit, stuff I seriously don’t ultimately control, to prove this great considerate identity. I am bound to ultimately fail sooner or later. Trains are late all the time, alarms don’t go off, emergencies happen. In truth I am regularly late, even when I take preparations and precautions, to be on time. When I am late I suffer a terrible pain, a hit to my identity.

But even when I manage to be on time I suffer too. I suffer stress, like I did getting to the appointment. I suffer the preparation time and worry. But when I am on time, I excuse it, gloss over the stress because I think it is worth it, I get to be the me I want to be!

But this is like winning small battles, at high cost, in a war I can never ever win.

Why can’t I win? Because I am trying to derive identity based-off of things that I can only arrange when all the stars align, partially to my liking but always with consequences I don’t like, some of the time, temporarily.

Another day, another cake:

All of this brought me back to the original problem:  Even though I know I am not my arrangements, I couldn’t shake the belief that those arrangements, and my ability to bring them about, proves  something about me. I.e. since I can cause a cake to be baked that cake defines Alana the Baker (baker pronounced ‘Alana the organizer and controller of all Rupa in the universe’).

But after considering beaver dams, my friend the real-life baker and a trip to the eye doc, I realized I can arrange a cake, if:

1. The circumstances and Rupa allow it. I.e. Eric didn’t use the last egg, the weevils didn’t eat the flour, the landlord fixed the oven, etc. In reality this isn’t some fine print asterisk of “conditions may apply”. In everyday life there are countless ways and circumstances that don’t allow for cake baking.

2. Some of the time, ie even if the circumstances allow me to bake a cake it still may go flat or turn out crappy

3. Partially, there are always 2 sides so even if I get a cake that I want, I get a huge stack of dishes I hate

4. Temporarily ie I can bake once, but not necessarily a second time

5. Plus once that cake comes about it is not subject to my rules but the rules of Rupa, so rot, decay, consumed, etc.

When I put it that way…it doesn’t exactly have the same ‘Alana, high and mighty, ruler of the universe ring to it.’ So much for Alana the Great Arranger.

This blog is a direct continuation on the previous blog, “Interruption Part 11: A Major Breakthrough Part 1”. If you have not read that blog yet please go ahead and read it first before you continue on with this one.

4. Does rupa do what I think/ want/imagine in an absolute sense or in relation to myself? 

• Is a quality fixed/innate in myself — Again I started thinking about beauty. I realized that if my 20 year old self saw my 40 year old self in the mirror she would freak the hell out. The only reason my 40 year old self sometimes (good haircut, lost weight, botoxed) can look in the mirror and give myself the pretty thumbs-up is that my nama has change the standard. Rupa may nourish nama, but it is also a limit setter/backstop. When it tells an irrefutable tale, like that I am 40 not 20, then Nama is forced to adjust its standards to cope with the reality of the situation.

The problem is that my nama is a lot like a teacher who grades on a curve. If each year her class gets dumber and dumber, being in the most recent class and get an A doesn’t really prove I am some sort of genius. It doesn’t prove the quality of smart lives in me. Just so, my curve grading nama doesn’t mean that beauty lives in me.

Each object is just an arrangement of 4es. Over the course of its life its arrangement of the 4es change over time/situation. Every object will have a peak/pinnacle look, like all fruit will have a peak ripeness. It doesn’t require any nama observer for this to be the case. This body had a peak arrangement that I would call max beauty. But it was momentary, every other arrangement before and after was sub-peak. And in fact, even at peak, it was just peak for my body arrangement: Across all time and all like objects there will be arrangements that are prettier/thinner/richer. So what this means is that even my ripeness/pretty is retaliative. Its not absolute. I am constantly working so hard, suffering so much, choosing this world over and over for a quality in rupa that is not even absolute and is definitely not permanent no matter what my curve-grading-nama-liar is trying to say.

• Whose fault is it when I need to endure a 4e arrangement I hate (spoiler alert –it is mine)? I  was thinking about a few times when I knew stuff wasn’t really really mine, I was using it temporarily, but I got ticked as hell they were taken from me, to the point of hate/vengefulness and I started trying to figure out why. The examples were:  1) I was in Zumba one day and this chick just came, stood in front of me and took my dance spot.  2) A plane trip where I paid extra for premium seats in front of the bulkhead, but because of where the bathrooms were arrange people kept using it as an aisle and stepping on me; 3) My neighbors hogging the washer.

I realized when I was thinking about taking a body and entering the ‘rupa level’ that the reason I was so angry in these cases is they made me feel like a fool for not reading the fine print. I signed the contract, I get a rupa body yay! I can arrange rupa objects according to my liking as long as it is within the acceptable arrangements of the 4es in a particular circumstance at a particular time. Fine print, there are times the rupa can’t be arranged to your liking, rupa has its own rules, you have to deal with it. You get ears to hear pretty music, but you are also going to get honking Lady. No one wants to feel a fool, no one wants to feel a chump, so I got angry , I felt belittled. In reality I took home the wrong message: the right message is “you need to stop looking to rupa to prove your ability to be master of this world. You are not. You get the power to play within this world, you don’t have super worldly abilities. I am afraid that if the washing machine is being used, you can’t wash your clothes…

• Alana the special snowflake — In winter, I love standing out and catching snowflakes when it snows. Each one has its very own unique crystal structure. They are all special snowflakes. But, each and every snowflake is a 4e object subject to the rules of rupa. They are formed at a certain temp and melt at a certain temp, living a life cycle of vapor to solid to water and back to vapor again. Sure each one is unique, but not in the critical ways that govern their nature, life and death. I realize that I use my crap to try and make me a special little Alana. The body, the clothes, that car — all accessories of my uniqueness. But, really, I am just like those snowflakes..in all the ways that matter most, in the rules that govern my 4es, I am just like every other person, every other 4e object. I have to stop thinking I am some kind of special snowflake, they don’t exist.

5. My belongings don’t have the power to always create or sustain an arrangement of rupa I want, so I suffer.  My shit is like props in a play: 

• The 4es of the actual object (prop) are always changing: My body will go through states of health and states of illness. My bath will go through states of warm and states of cooling. Since I don’t like all the arrangements (not fan of sick Alana or cold bath) I suffer.

• The scene is always changing: I liked the porsche when I was driving the back roads of Napa, but wasn’t a huge fan when I had to stop for gas in Soma. I liked my fav ring on my 30 year old hand, on my 40 year old hand it draws attention to my wrinkles. I liked my wedding ring and then I developed an allergy to the metal and stopped liking it because it caused burning rash/pain. Same objects, but in a new scene, don’t create the arrangement of rupa I want. Since  the scene is always changing, the ability to create the exact arrangement of rupa I want can’t be in the objects .

Further example: In SF life money seemed to make me happy, to continually create an arrangement of rupa I found favorable. So, I dumbly believed that money would do the same thing in NY and, even though I clearly saw when visiting I didn’t like the sounds/smells/ density/etc I believed once I threw money at the problem I would be able to arrange the form to my liking. Duh, it didn’t work and actually money made it worse: we moved for more money, so acquiring this item I thought would guarantee me a favorable arrangement of rupa got me a more unfavorable one. The reason, at most money is a factor in getting an arrangement I want but if it is a factor in getting an arrangement I want than it must also be able to be a factor in getting an arrangement I don’t want as well (I’m going to look more at this point tomorrow).

• The audience changes: I loved that NY house when I first saw it. I bought it. But then my feelings as an audience member, my feelings about NY changed. So then I didn’t like the house any more. Same object, same scene, but my feelings changed. Then, I had to suffer having the object and having to get rid of it.

• I always seem to need new props: Based on how good the last production was, I need new props to make the new play as good as or better than the last. If I had a Porsche, I can’t have a BMW or I am a loser producer.  If I had Goyard, I can’t have gap or I am a loser producer. If I am judged (by myself and others) by the quality of my play, by the successive arrangements of rupa that create a story line of my life, then the next scene, the next play has to be better than the last. But the nature of the world is that things can go up or down (ahh the bubble dilemma). Its impossible to always have better props. It is impossible to keep the props I have pristine. So, I suffer.

Anyway, there is more, but this is the basics. I have had to hack at a few hydra heads along the way, wrong views that were really delaying progress. But otherwise, I am trying to stay on the program — self and self belonging and its many facets. I realize now how much missing the 4e piece was hurting my practice. Even worse though was not understanding the difference between cause and factor; this whole dharma thing is just the truth of cause and effect in this world. To be unclear on this topic, to constantly think I am a cause where I am merely a factor (of various strengths and durations) is like wrong view quicksand — so fucking hard to escape this world when stuck in it…After all, if I am a cause, I can just try harder, work more, do better to get the effect I want since a cause always brings about an effect. But, by definition, a factor is something that ‘works’ some of the time, under some circumstances. All it takes is to see that circumstances are constantly changing, bubbles always shifting and popping, to start easing my gripping heart….