Question on Sakkāya-Diṭṭhi
In this blog post I would like to share a Q&A exchange I had with Mae Neecha the topic of Sakkaya-Ditthi, the first fetter, ego or self view. I offer it here because it provides an important clarification on the path to enlightenment and has since colored my own thinking and process.
_________________________________________________________________________
Original Question:
I was re-watching some of Mae Yo Q and As yesterday (way more interesting thank Lakorns to practice my Thai). In the one about “Important Qualities”, Mae Yo briefly talks about the first 3 fetters, ending by saying since the 2nd 2 will go when the first goes basically we need to find a way to eliminate sakkāya-diṭṭhi. That all makes sense only…
My question then, what exactly is sakkāya-diṭṭhi? I know it generally gets translated as ego or self view. But it seems to me that thats not a great definition; after all, this elimination comes for sotapanas who still deal with the 8 worldly conditions, vengeance, lust, all emotions that must require some remaining sense of self in order to arise.
My best guess is that this is an elimination of misunderstanding Rupa (form) as something permanent, as something that can be us, or make us or be controlled by us. As something with real meaning, not just the meaning our 3s and 4s pour into it and which we are deluded into believing is real? Or perhaps, more refined, an understanding of impermanence that we can arrive at through an understanding of Rupa which helps us see our impermanence (and therefore non abiding selfyness)?
Either way, I just feel like Rupa has to be the key bc all my contemplations keep pointing back to how it totally powns us…
Neecha’s Reply:
I would define Sakkyaditthi as the view that you are at the center of the universe and understanding/conquering sakkyaditthi is understanding that you alone are the cause of your suffering and wrong perceptions. Eliminating the sakkyaditthi fetter is seeing that theres a huge difference between your perception of the truth and the actual truth.
Alana Again:
That makes lots more sense…and our misunderstanding of Rupa is such a pervasive cause of our problems that this is one of the first things we get clarity around our mistaken perception of versus reality? Put another way..the way we see rupa sells the lie of our self as center of the universe so we need to re-understand it before we can see the truth?
Neecha’s Reply:
Yes. We understand rupa in terms of ourselves because the world revolves around us. Seeing the reality that we are not invincible, but rather, subject to the 3 common characteristics like all other tangible things is a big first step. It’s the foundation for eliminating the other fetters.
Intermezzo 2: What is Sammutti
Dear Reader — this is the second of two exchanges with Neecha that took place around the Dharma Meltdown period which I would like to share prior to entering the next ‘chapter’ of this blog. The entry here is a question about a Buddhist concept called Sammutti, or ‘conventional forms’.
I was helping LP Anan edit his new translation of the Uturn sermon and it prompts me to ask, about a term/concept from the sermon: The term is Sammutti, usually translated as “conventional forms”. I think I have some sense of what Sammutti is, which I will outline below, I was hoping you could just double-check that I am in the ballpark and not missing anything big…
What Sammutti is:
My sense is that Sammutti, “conventional forms” is actually a set of views that we hold that create the scaffolding upon which we build our perception of ourselves and the world –it is what gives meaning to our experiences. So its stuff like language, or money, or social conventions such as a smile. A $10 bill isn’t really a thing that holds any innate value, the word “fun” doesn’t actually mean the same thing to you and me, a smile also doesn’t have the same meaning across person, time and space. Sammutti is clearly not ultimately true, but we forget that…when we don’t really consider Sammutti, we take it as true and we rely on it to navigate our lives, to manage our social relationships, to build our sense of self (more on that later).
Moreover, Sammutti seems to be shared with a group, some subset of people we surround ourselves with. Even though, of course, our understanding of Summutti and theirs aren’t actually the same, the shared culture and experiences we base our memory on are close enough that there is overlap. Enough overlap generally that we imagine that we are speaking about the same thing when we say fun, or that $10 has the same value to each of us, or that I can be confident in how I interpret your smile. The seeming sharedness actually reinforces my view of Sammutti as true; it is something I use as evidence to sell myself the lie it is universal.
Sammutti and the Self:
So we basically use Sammutti to build our sense of self. Without some convention, some scaffolding, I couldn’t imagine a self I want, a self that is better than others, a self that other people agree is great and reinforce. For example, I want to be beautiful, but beauty only has meaning in terms on Sammutti..in terms of how I define it, and how those around me define it as well (therefore reinforcing the definition I hold in my head). Or I want to be compassionate, again, this gets based on how I see my actions and how I think others precise them as well — in order to be beautiful, rich, compassionate or any other self, I need a yardstick..one that I think is true and one which I feel is also generally accepted outside myself.
But Self itself is sort of Sammutti –it is something we name, something we project, something we see as solid and contestant, but in truth is is constantly changing. Its not really a mass at all, its a collection of ideas, of memories and imaging and feelings and form..but we tell a story of unity, of structure, of singularity..we mistake some type of continuity as real intentness, as a soul, a self. Society, our friends, family, enemies, they treat us as a self as a singular always the same entity and as such, they reinforce.
Clarifying question: What exactly is the relationship between Sammutti and the aggregate of imagination? Is sammutti actually something we imagine ..but more of a shared delusion?
The role of Sammitti in practice:
My sense is that Sammitti is like soil, a base in this world — if you plant wisdom seeds in it wisdom grows. If you plant defilement seeds in it defilement grows. So, if we use these ideas we have about the world, these balls of solidness (self, other, thing, etc.) and use them to contemplate the 3 characteristics we can be free (I’m guessing Impermanence especially here can help with the problem of the illusion of solid thingness that happens as a result of continuous connected rising and falling??). We can, I suspect, see Sammutti for what it is, a convenient illusion, a convention to name, to categorize, to function in the world, as opposed to an actually real thing.
Anyway, I think I’ll quit while I’m ahead and ask if there is anything further to consider on this. I know this topic is definitely like opening up a watch casing and seeing how the parts move..quite complicated. Still..having a sense of memory and imagination really helped me start to structure my practice. Considering the centrality of the role of Sammutti in this sermon, I wanted to think it through and clarify so I could add this piece as well. Sometimes, for me, taking a step back and seeing the gears move, it really helps my understanding.
Neecha’s Reply:
Sammuti is like “pretend” or “suppose” in thai. Like when we say, “sammuti wa chun pai bahn khun,…” (pretend, i were to go to your house,…) In a dhamma sense it means supposed or conventional forms…the terms we use to refer to something just so we can communicate and make sense. so we know we’re talking about the same thing. “suppose we call this X,” then we’re basically sammuti-ing that “X” is the name for that form.
Sammuti and 4s depend on one another.
Intermezzo 1: Question on Focus
Dear Reader — this is the first of two exchanges with Neecha that took place around the Dharma Meltdown period which I would like to share prior to entering the next ‘chapter’ of this blog. The entry here is a question for Mae Yo about focus:
Question: I know that practice has 2 important components, wisdom and focus. I am clear on the wisdom part and, it feels like I become more and more clear on it with time. But the focus part, is not something I think about or practice for very much and the details seem fuzzy. I know that Mae Yo has done Q and As on this before, but perhaps I can ask again for a personal answer since I still am not sure (even if its an answer I need to file for later…I would like to have it).
So specifically I guess I what I would ask about focus is :
1) What exactly is it?
2) Why is it important?
3) How do I develop it?Can this be done in my normal daily life (like wisdom can)?
4) How do I use it in my daily life/practice?
I guess a big part of my question comes from my own experience …I know that focused meditation is supposed to make a practitioner better able to stay on point and see clearly in wisdom contemplation, but in my own experience, relaxing, napping, walking, these are the activities that usually preceded my having really important insights (after lots of thinking beforehand of course). Or is focus more like a shock to the system..something like the pain that caused dharma Meltdown 2.0, in which case, I was motivated to contemplation quickly and sharply because I knew there was an issue to solve (i.e. is it a light a fire under my but sort of practice?). I know that pain and fear are often talked about as ways to cultivate focus; I am someone with pretty frequent pain (because of my stomach issues) and I used to be in fear almost all of the time, both have been motivations for practice, but mostly because I don’t want the suffering..not because they have (I don’t think) made my mind extra sharp.
Anyway..I was just looking back at some open questions and I wanted to send this one along. Lets just say if there are 2 important aspects to practice…I don’t want to end up with a 50% mark on the exam ;).
Reply from Neecha and Mae Yo: Focus is heightened attention, either to a particular subject or in general.
It’s important, like the sharpness of a knife. You are more precise and effective when focused.
Extreme stress or fear can cause you to focus. You develop it, without extreme fear, by maintaining continuity and your momentum in practice. By constantly contemplating TTP, you are weary of your surroundings, constantly watching yourself, your thoughts, your actions. This is what you already do!
You don’t have to consciously think about using it, the alert focus you have from contemplating on a topic helps you notice anything that relates to that topic. It helps you link them together to form an understanding.
The Green Purse, 2.0 – A Contemplation I Offered to Phra Arjan Daeng
Following the teaching I received from Phra Arjan Daeng, I began to try and incorporate his advice for practice into my contemplations. What follows is a homework contemplation about my Green Purse which I turned in to Phra Arjan Daeng upon our next meeting several weeks after his initial instruction.
_______________________________________________________________________
The Story : I had been on the prowl for a new purse for a few weeks, I wanted something bright, in a neutral color, big enough to fit my gym clothes, cross body to help spare my shoulder and soft sided so it didn’t hurt when I walked. I went into Wilks Bashford one day with Eric and saw a great bag, a neon green Reed Krakoff purse. Though I liked it, it was pricy. I was on the fence about it until a sales person came over and started being a real bitch to me; in my mind anyway, she was all acting like I didn’t belong in the store, not fancy or rich enough. So, I bought the bag, in part because I liked it, in part to prove to that sales person I belonged. Either way, years of obsession over the Reed Krakoff Neon Green Purse were born that day.
The more I wore the bag, the more compliments I got on it and quickly it went from being ‘a’ purse to my ‘signature’ purse. A single object to reflect my awesome fabulousness and fashion sense.
Eric and I went to Hawaii and of course I brought the purse, there is a series of pictures he took of me way out on the rocks, you can’t see my face, you can barely make-out the shape of my body, but the neon green purse was perfectly clear. Eric said when he saw the pics he thought of me, Alana with the green bag, always recognizable from even a mile away.
On that trip though, I noticed the bag had started to ware from daily use, the strap was getting nicks, the leather flaking in spots. I decided I needed a new bag, fresh and clean, and I returned to Wilkes Bashford when I got ack to San Fran. The problem: New season, new collection, no more Neon Green Reed Krakoff Bags. I was devastated and panicked, I went home and started trolling ebay, the real real, every fashion site I could find for some old stock or preowned Reed Krokoff Neon Green bags.
The Permanence that Created the Problem: I thought an object, the bag, could represent me, it could make me beautiful and fashionable and, above all else, recognizable – special—to my husband. In my mind that bag became a fixed object to create a fixed identity. But the bag, it wasn’t fixed. As it wore down, its color fading, it shape becoming more frumpy, it showed its true nature (changeable, subject to decay) like an affront to my imagination and hopes. But I am in control, so off to the store I went for a new bag, only to again have the impermanence of it thrown in my face — out of stock. And so, the real suffering began…
The Suffering: I needed to persevere, I needed to preserve the image I had built, I stressed and then I ‘problem solved’, spending hours combing the web for every look alike bag I could find. I started each morning with an ebay search, ended each day the same way. When a bag would come-up, I would buy it and before long I had 4-5 ‘back-up’ bags, all the same Neon Green Reed Krakoff Purse. I was prepared to fight impermanence!
The Twist: Before I had even made it through my 1st “back-up bag” I tore the cartilage that stabilizes the joint in my left hip and carrying such a big, bulky bag became painful. I ended-up needing to get a new, smaller purse (still green though, so Eric could recognize me) and the pile of back-up bags went from being precious commodities to junk for the give away pile.
The Lie: At the time, I didn’t think much of this change of events. I smoothed it over in my mind, pretended that I was in control of the whole thing, I chose a new bag, a new look, something more comfortable perhaps, but it was no big deal, it wasn’t a glaring sign of the truth…
The Truth: This whole saga started with a broken bag and ended with a broken body, the only characteristic that endured, was impermanence. Whether I ignore it, smooth it over, pretend its other wise or not, bags break, bodies break and mine is no exception, my bag and my body are both beyond my ability to control or to preserve.
Some arbitrary object, a bag, became mine in my head, my memory, my imagination made it so. I think I can take this mine thing and use it to make me a thing too, a beauty, a fashion icon, a beloved to my husband. I ignored that the bag doesn’t give a damn about me, but my obsession with it drives me. I need to care for it, to preserve, to replace it, I fret when it decays. And when I break, when I literally can not bear the bag anymore, I tell myself new lies, buy new objects to sell those lies and reinforce my imagination of control. Like a child in a scary situation – I close my eyes and pretend that I’m safe from impermanence.
A Teaching from Phra Ajarn Daeng
In June 2015, shortly after the 2015 Retreat, Wat San Fran welcomed a visit from Phra Arjan Daeng, Assistant Abbott of Wat Pa Ban Koh and one of Laung Por Thoon’s esteemed students. I was fortunate to be at the Wat and receive a teaching from him advising me on how to practice. Here I will share a some of the notes I took from that teaching:
____________________________________________________________________________
You should sit and focus well, meditate everyday for 5-10 minutes and see how your mind and heart is. Extreme focus is necessary, without it you can’t do anything, you have to observe and see what your mind and heart does. When you are tired of thinking sit in Sammati, it will give focus and mindfulness, when you exit meditation focus your wisdom on the 3 Characteristics (impermanence, no self, suffering).You have a body (tangible) and a soul (intangible), you need to use mindfulness to touch your soul its like trying to trap a monkey in a cage. Wisdom and focus must be used together.
Just recognize the emotions that arise when you see and hear. Its like a chain gang, a row of prisoners chained-up together, to become free you only need to untie the knot or break the chain closest to your own feet, not worry about all the chains tying up the whole gang. All the things in this world you are so obsessed with are not obsessed with you in return (I.e. objects don’t care about you at all) . And yet, we are so obsessed we will even kill for these objects. It is so silly to get so obsessed, if you try to fix this obsession beyond yourself, it will still be attached to your leg, that is why you need to fix it there.
There is no need to search outside ourselves, in books or scriptures, for knowledge when it is already in ourselves. Everything we need to know is contained in the body, soul and emotions. If you look inwards and study yourself, you will get it. Sometimes, through proper practice, teachings arise on their own. Contemplate this and through understanding happiness will occur. *If you contemplate on your body according to the three characteristics there is no way to go wrong. Contemplate nothing really belongs to us. Use focus and concentration as a rest so you have the energy to contemplate how nothing really belongs to you. When you lose your stuff, you shouldn’t suffer too much. Whatever your addicted to, whatever you love, that is what you should think about according to the 3 Characteristics. When you become addicted to things, that is when you suffer.
In sum:
- Use Sammati to build focus
- Think about my body according to the 3 Characteristics
- Think about my belongings according to the 3 Characteristics
- Realize that my belongings don’t feel pain and suffer, I do
Women and Wine Glasses
Mae Yo’s homework always sounds so simple, “go and see the two sides of comfort and suffering.” But seriously, what does that even mean? I understood that I was supposed to be having some deep penetrating insight into the relationship between Sukka (happiness) and Dukka (suffering) but I was stuck. It was time for a tool, not just any tool either, but the big guns…I needed an Ubai. For days and days I racked my brain and then I remembered an old optical illusion I saw as a kid — the women and the wine glass…
So what do you see? Women or a wine glass? The picture is both, it is women and a wine glass — they define each other, without the women there would be no glass and without the glass there would be no women. Without happiness there would be no suffering and without suffering there would be no happiness.
I want vacations, periods of fun, to relax, hang on the beach, take mule rides in the jungle. But is there a vacation without work? How could I define relaxing – escaping lists and emails and meetings – without stuff in my life that is not relaxing? Where is the relief of a headache being gone, or a fever breaking, if I am never sick? Would I ever have that rush of coming home, to my beloved, after being gone for weeks, if I had never left?
Even the great Dharma Lord could not separate Sukka and Dukka, because only together do they create the full picture, together they create the world. All my little zones of comfort, that I think I can escape to, by just crossing over the suffering line for good, exist only because of the suffering. So how can I really expect to get to my 100% suffering free life? Especially — as we will start exploring in the next blog – when I need to preserve, when $100 bucks is awesome until I have $1,000 and then I need to make sure I always have at least $1,000 stored up in the bank…
My Mom and I Part 1, a Kat-like Alana
I love my mom, but I’m ashamed to admit, I haven’t always given her a fair shake. I haven’t always appreciated her. I haven’t always yielded to her. Frankly, I haven’t always viewed her with the soft, forgiving, eyes I offer to other loved ones in my life.
I have my reasons. I have my beliefs. I have my agenda. I always have me me me my my my. And the result of all the me and my, in this case, was a relationship with my mom that, well, it had room for improvement.
Enter the Dharma. Which has blessed me with the tools to identify the starting place for all my pain/ problems. And the starting place for every solution. You guys know where that starting place is already right? Me me me my my my.
This story, is the first of a number to come in which I begin to contemplate my wrong views about my mom and our relationship.
____________________________________________________________________________
I have a dear friend, Kat, whose mom was in town, and she invited me to go to dinner with the two of them. I knew Kat was asking because she really didn’t want to spend time alone with her mom. The two, like my mom and I, have had a challenging relationship at times. In Kat’s case, she blames her mom for her parent’s divorce and ultimately having to grow up in a single parent home when her dad moved away. I have heard Kat’s sad story so many times, seen her perspective and, of course, taken her side. She is my friend after all.
At dinner, the tension between Kat and her mom hung in the air. But, equally as present, was Kat’s mom’s love for her daughter and pride in all Kat had accomplished. As I sat there I became so sad watching Kat’s mom try so desperately to gain her daughter’s love and approval. She had, as a single mom, sacrificed so much to raise Kat and still, Kat was so busy holding onto her side of the story, to her pain and frustration, she couldn’t even see her Mom’s efforts. Kat was so busy being the victim, all these years latter, she was missing the scene playing out in front of her. And then the moment of internalization, this is exactly like my mom and I.
Sure, my mom, like all of us humans, has made mistakes, done harsh things. But many of them were long ago, and seen from the perspective of a child. My mom clearly wants my love, she works so hard to get it. But just like Kat, I am so stuck in my own re-run story that I can’t even appreciate her efforts.
For the first time in my life, my heart ached for my Mom. I realized the pain my slights, comments, inattentiveness, my Kat-likeness have caused her. In a world that is so hard, in which I have so few allies, I have hurt someone who cares about me, who loves me, who had gone out of her way to support me. This is not the kind of person I want to be and so, the seeds of change, of me becoming a better me, a better daughter, were planted.
Homework Part 1 Where My Mind Vists Most Often: Alana’s Special Time
So, a little reminder, this entry is the first part of my homework assignment to use snippets of my life/experiences (a biopsy) to start evaluating what happiness is and if it’s worth it. Specifically I was told to:
- Figure out where my mind visits often, my memories/fantasies.
- See the suffering. How long is the suffering versus happiness?
- How do I repeat the cycle?
Alana’s Special Vacation Time
After months of prep and planning, the day of Eric and my first vacation in years arrived — we were going camping in the Texas backwoods called Big Thicket. Just as we pull up to the campground, Eric got sick. I mean really sick. Entirely too sick to be sleeping in the woods, far away from bathrooms or electricity, so we had to turn around and drive home. I was so disappointed. So frustrated. Hell, I was downright angry! How could Eric just get sick like that on My Time, on my vacation? I earned this trip after all, I planned it and then he ruined it. Lets just say, this was not one of my finer moments as a loving supportive wife…
I had a seriously stupid wrong view: Because I had planned something, counted on it, expected it, earned it, wished for it, pretty pleased with sugar on top of it, I suddenly had control. I could shape a time, a trip in this case, to my will. It would be Alana’s Special Vacation Time. When the world, my husband’s body more specifically, did not abide by my time, my rules and my plan, well I was a super bitch.
The truth is this theme of ‘Alana Vacation Time’ is one of my my big fantasies (delusions), it is a place my mind visits often. I have a ton of examples of it and, just like in the camping story, my time doesn’t always go according to my plan and I suffer (or worse, I cause suffering to others I love, like Eric). Here are a few more examples I jotted down in my homework (there were actually quite a few more, but you will get the idea):
- I went on Safari to Kenya, believing it would be a safe fun vacay, and I was attacked by a rhino. I felt safe the first 3 days of the trip. After the attack I was in pain and fear the next 10 days.
- I went traveling in Italy and got horrible food poisoning. Sure it was only one day, but it was the day I was looking forward to the most in the whole trip.
- I went to visit friends in Arizona. It was a 3 week trip and I got and got super sick for 2 of those 3 weeks.
- I went for a semester abroad in Israel and I was so miserable and depressed for 7 months, all I wanted was to come home.
- I went to Yosemite, but stayed in a crappy hotel. We had fun all day, but I tossed and turned unable to sleep all night.
- Eric and I went to Mexico, but he was depressed the whole time so it was a terrible trip
- Eric and I went to Hawaii but fought the first 2 days of a 5 day trip
- I was having stomach problems from the food in China so I worried constantly for 12 days about being close enough to a bathroom in the event of an emergency.
You see, I’m not an idiot, I know life entails suffering, duhh it’s all around me, in my life, my day to day. But I believe that sometimes, if I ‘earn’ it, if I do all the right things, I can carve out a time/space that is devoid of suffering. In my mind, I build a fence –suffering over there, in day-to-day life, joy over here on vacations/My TIme. This wrong view, it’s a tool I use to keep going in life, to repeat the cycle of being born. I think, “if I can just make it over to that little space of refuge over there, in Big Thicket or Kenya or Italy or just the end of the workday curled up in front of my fireplace, I can chillax just a bit. Life is worth it for those suffering free moments.”
But, the evidence, if I pay attention to it, doesn’t lie. Even in my Vacay Time, I have plenty of suffering. I have illness, depression, fights, pain, fear — it appears that I can’t control, that the fence I build in my mind does nothing to keep all the baddies out in real life. Since the truth isn’t at all what I want to hear (that I can’t avoid suffering, I can’t control), I ignore it. I forget the evidence. I selectively delete it from my memory (#3) and imagine (#4) the next happy trip I will plan. And then I suffer disappointment when My Time is ruined again and again. I suffer the consequences of being cruel to the people around me during fits of frustration and anger. I suffer the work and planning of trying for the next repeat, redo trip that will be just perfect. I build a certain self, A Special Vacay Time Alana self, seeking to have happiness and avoid pain. I fail so I forget….
And Now an Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Programming Part IV — My House Thats Not Quite Mine
As part of our move to New York, Eric and I bought a new home in Lower Manhattan. We had seen it once, while he was here interviewing with his new company, and we fell in love at first sight. As soon as we stepped into the sunny loft space we began to imagine our life there — Eric cooking in the chef’s kitchen, me lounging by the fireplace, all the rooms open to each other so we could feel together even when were doing different things. Even the decor of the former couple was so ‘our style’, funky and artsy and eclectic. It felt like we could just slip in and take it all over, that we could have the charmed life it looked like they had from their photos and stuff. I used the rupa to paint a picture and I believed it with all my heart.
When Eric got the job offer we put an offer in on the home. We didn’t shop around, didn’t bother to try to understand New York neighborhoods or real estate. We were told the house had lot line windows (windows which could need to be boarded anytime if the building next to us is ever sold and developed higher than 5 stories), we knew it needed some work, clearly it was a bit quaint, but we “knew” it was just perfect for us. There was simply no convincing us that the future would be anything other than we imagined it, that the house (which we owned after all) wouldn’t mold to our expectations and be exactly what we wanted it to be. In other words, we were fools with a permanent view of the future and an irrational belief the world, or at least our home, would revolve around us and be in our control..but I get ahead of my story here.
Even before we signed the final papers we started to get jitters. When move-in day came, it became clear that the house size wasn’t just quaint, it was small, too small. The open floor plan had only one small closest and no cabinets, no place to put our stuff. The couple before had ordered their life to fit the house, they made it look easy and sweet. But with their stuff gone, surrounded by my boxes, it suddenly felt impossible.
It also became clear quite quickly that the place needed work, a lot of work, to make it workable for us. We sort of knew we would need some, we thought it would be a fun project to do together, a design to make the place really ours. But after interviewing a few contractors, the extent of the project, and the cost became clear. Suddenly we are looking at all new appliances, a wall getting moved, a flooring riddle I won’t even get into, lighting, electric, and building-wide projects of patching leaks, and updating a lobby, and fixing a creaky old elevator.
With each ‘discovery’ my optimism faded more and more; a place, a project, a home that had so recently been, was supposed to be, a joy was morphing into a burden. Still, in my heart, I kept feeling like the house, its mine, there is something I can do to fix it, to organize it, to make it work, to force it to be what I want it to be.
I was taking a break from unpacking, lazing in a spot of sun one of my lot line windows let in and it dawned on me. My house, my enjoyment of it (or at least of its sunniness), its totally out of my control. Even if I can renovate the place, elfa out every nook and cranny to organize and make space, I am one building sale, one ambitious development project away from literally losing my sunshine. I was crushed. Suddenly I hated the place, hated myself for buying it, the picture I painted was shattered. I saw so clearly that its not really mine. When I thought it would fit my image, play by my rules, exist on my terms I could pretend it was mine. I wanted it. But when I see that something about it I value so much can be ‘taken’ any minute, I don’t even want it any more. This dark-at-any-moment house doesn’t serve me anymore (even though its still light right now, even though its a perfectly fine place to live), it doesn’t bolster me or sell the deeper more critical picture– ALANA master of her universe, goddess of her relationship, home and life, buttoned up and in control, all I want to be, and all others want me to be, and ME ME ME I I I AM.
But here is the crazy part: None of the information was new. I knew the size of the place, square footage was clearly placed in the listing. I knew of at least some of the upgrades, it doesn’t take an architect to spot appliances older than me. I knew about the windows, it was disclosed. The house, it never lied to me. It told me the same truth that every object in this world screams loud and clear for anyone to hear — “I will change, fade, decay, cease to be what you want at some moment in time. I abide by my own rules, am subject to my own causes that won’t just adhere to your terms (subtext: who are you anyway, crazy lady, to think your so special that you can control my fate).” But I had let my own picture, that I had painted all by myself, lie to me. Actually, I used my picture to lie to myself. When, seriously when, am I going to learn that I am the liar and the sucker who believes my own lies? I believe even though my lies hurt me.
.
And Now an Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Programming Part II — No Going Back to SF
For those of you just tuning in, we are taking a little break from our regularly scheduled program ( a chronology of highlights in my Dharma practice) as I move and settle into a new home. So for a few weeks, you will be getting real-time reflections. A blow-by-blow of my life and my practice as I adjust to my new home. Last week I talked about my disappointment in my new home in New York. This week, I want to talk about the flip-side…
I wish I could just go back to my old home, to San Francisco
I keep catching myself whispering the secret-not-so-secret mantra, “I wish I could just go home to San Francisco.” I miss my friends, my house, my routines, I miss my old life and I want it back. But spoiler alert, its not possible, there is no going back. After-all, what would going back really look like? My husband’s job is here now, am I going to go back without him? Or go back with both of us unemployed? In either case, is it really going back to the life I had before? My house is sold, my car sold, my position at my old job filled, none of those are there for me to go back to. And even my friends, after these few weeks, do they still have our weekly yoga time held on their calendar, that Thursday lunch spot free? All I remember San Francisco to be, its moment had come and gone, arisen and ceased, no mantra can wish away the impermanence.
But me, I am in constant denial. I am always trying to repeat the past, recreate those ‘perfect’ moments, make my memories manifest again. I once ate the best pizza in the world and kept going back to the same restaurant again and again hoping to recreate it, but each time it was worse than the first. Burberry had the perfect coat one season, each season after I kept going back, hoping to find one like it, but the cuts, they changed. I wore that outfit one time and it was adorable, but I put it on again and I was too fat/too pale/ it was too cold/inappropriate for the occasion/ out of season/out of style.
And when I am in the moment, enjoying something, a little part of my mind is scheming, saying, “how can I get this again?” If I come back to this hotel, can I get the same room? If I come back to this restaurant, can I get the same dessert? Can I buy extra cans of this tomato so I have more later? Can I buy extra ‘back-up’ versions of the same purse, so when the original is beaten-up I still have another one left?
I try so hard, put in so much effort, and then suffer so much disappointment because its always a fail. I can never quite seem to get back the past. Still I try. Still I hope. And that trying, hoping, grasping, it moves me, drives me, pushes me forward. But it can’t ever return me to where I have been.
And Now an Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Programming — My New York Rebirth
My Dear Readers, I am going to beg your pardon today and take a break from our regularly scheduled program (a loose chronology of highlights of my dharma practice) in order to write something from the present day. I am in the process of moving, SF to NY, and to be honest, the faithful adherence to an ordered blog is a bit challenging when my stuff, dharma notebook, life and thoughts are all disorderly, strewn about, buried in boxes and so forth. So, at least till the dust settles a bit, you are going to get a preview of whats to come in this blog, i.e. thoughts from the blog’s distant future, my present life.
I have been thinking that moving is a lot like starting a new life, a rebirth. There was a cause to the move, my desire for a better life, to escape things I don’t like and seek out ones I do (in particular, my husband’s old job, which was a huge burden for us both). There was imagination of what it would be like, better, not worse, of course. There is effort, and money, spent to bring the move to fruition. There is the need to rebuild, re-establish my life, my stuff, my sense of self in these new circumstance.
And let me tell you something my friends, this move has been hard. Horribly, terribly hard. Perhaps the details will come in another blog, but suffice it to say, the stress, the effort, the planning, the disappointments have been enormous (ok, one detail, I messed-up a tooth from jaw clenching in my sleep because the noise of honking and sirens and yelling through the night is so stressful). Before, when I imagined all the glitz of a NY life, I didn’t see the dirt, the noise, the crowding, cold, nature-free city I have found myself in. I couldn’t have imagined the work it would take just to move, the struggle to live here, the sense of loss I feel from my old life, and the people in it.
The problem though is I’ll forget. I know I’ll forget, because when I first moved to SF I hated it too. It took time, but I “fell in love” and the horror show it took to build my life there became a distant memory. Sure I know I felt bad at the time, I remember, sort of, but it was worth it right? For the life I eventually built and loved (and then had to leave so quickly…), worth it I’m sure, well sort of, right? For the place that gave me the standards, the ‘norms’ to which I compare my new city and find it so very disappointing (and grey and cold and ungreen and unclean and uneco and unfoodie and unorganic and un friggin NorCal). Worth it…in hind-site, in the haze of amnesia and getting used to things and adjusting and re-imagining that keeps me tied in Samsara (cycle of rebirth). Pain when its raw is so motivational, we all want escape, but as it dulls, as the scar forms, we find a way to move on.
Here in NY the forgetting has already begun. I already find myself adjusting. Finding the noise fades to the background, the dirt becoming less noticeable. Its all better then it was before (my jaw has un-clenched) so it must be all good, right? My expectations, my imagination, adjusting. I get used to it. Familiarity I have come to realize is my nemesis. It makes me forget the pain, it numbs me to the discomfort in the world. It also, as a double F-you, makes the pleasurable less delightful. My first ice cream after being a vegan was the most delicious thing ever, but over time I got used to ice cream again and its just not the heaven-in-my-mouth it was when it was new, unfamiliar.
I however, I don’t want to forget. I don’t want to gloss over my suffering. Its real and it sucks. What it takes to prepare for a new life, to set it all-up just so, to adjust myself, my hopes and dreams its so so hard. And then to tell a story later on that it was all my idea, all under my control, all good in the end, that it was actually fun, built my character, its not true. I don’t want to keep being pushed into a new circumstance by my imagination of what it will be only to be shocked, disappointed and then lulled into complacency as I adjust. I don’t want endless rebirths, thinking each one will be different than the last, that it will be easier, that the trade offs are in my control, that its worth it.
And for all of this, as far from my fantasy as the city has proven to be, did I get what I wanted, a better life? In some ways — my husband’s job, for now at least, seems better and less stressful. But better capital B? How could it be? There are always 2 sides. There are always trade-offs. I imagined only one side (wrong view), knew there would be trade-offs but thought I could hedge, I could control which they were, that things would be on my terms. I was wrong and I feel the sting of it, and the dull ache of an angry tooth…
The Story that Launched My Practice…Homeless Alana
I was a few days into my first KPY retreat and I was still on the fence about whether or not this approach was for me. I had quietly listened as other folks shared stories from their lives and the realizations they had achieved when they examined their experiences from a correct viewpoint. I still don’t know what persuaded me to finally speak. But I did. I raised my hand and tearfully shared a story that had caused me a tremendous amount of pain. Without further ado…the story:
It was during the swine flu panic back in 2009 and I was on my way to Walgreens looking for facemasks. Standing out front was a homeless guy, Shack, who I knew from around the neighborhood. Shack and I had become friendly and whenever I saw him I would give him a big hug and offer him something to eat.
Well there I was, face-to-face with Shack and at a total loss for what to do; I wanted to be kind and compassionate and give the guy a hug, after all, I always did. But I was petrified! This was before anyone knew how swine flu spread, or how serious it was. I was caught, staring at my friend –homeless, dirty, clearly high—and my mind started feeling torn between wanting to be a “good person” and the fear that if I hug this guy I’m going to get swine flu and then I’m going to get sick and then I’m going to die. In the end, I gave him a hug, I didn’t get swine flu and I didn’t die. I also didn’t get facemasks, they were all sold out.
The story however clearly wasn’t finished. Over a year later I find myself at a retreat sobbing through my tale and weighed down with what I saw as my epic struggle—being compassionate versus being afraid. Here is where I learned KPY lesson #1, if I’m that upset about something there is still a problem. I quickly realized that, since we were nowhere near Shack, Wallgreens or swine flu the real problem could only be me. A little help from my new Dharma friends helped me see some of the other issues much more clearly.
First off, I was making a whole lot of assumptions during my interaction with Shack. I assumed that Shack had swine flu, if I hugged him I would get it, if I got it I would get sick, if I got sick I would die. That’s a long trail of ‘ifs’ but underlying them all was a pretty incorrect assumption about the world –that it is permanent and that I can know for sure what is going to happen. Actually, I have since learned that in every situation there are many many possibilities; leaving more room for these in my thoughts has had the effect of helping minimize my many many fears.
Moreover, I saw exactly how ego-centric I had been in the situation. From the get go, I assumed that Shack wanted a hug and that my giving it to him was the act of a compassionate being. I never even considered the possibility that Shack saw me and thought, “darn there is that crazy hippy girl again, I guess I’ll be nice and give her a hug since she clearly needs one.” On some level, I figured that if I were in Shack’s situation I would want someone to give me a hug because that would acknowledge my personhood. Ironically, the reasons I gave Shack a hug ignored Shack’s personhood –he just became an extension of me –how I would want to be treated, how I can be “compassionate”.
Here is the point at which we can look at the peril of my ways. First off, I was looking outwards, at disease and homelessness and uncertainty, for the source of my pain but it was all about me and my own issues all along. If I had kept looking outwards I wouldn’t have found the cause of my suffering and I wouldn’t have been able to correct it. Truth be told, being afraid and upset is no fun but they go hand-in-hand with the view point from which I engaged with Shack. Second, I really do want to be a good person, but if I subconsciously overlay my own agenda on the situations and people around me, my grounds for making “good person” decisions are pretty shaky.
Finally, my story was starting to come to a close. My tears had dried, my breathing was calm and even. I had caught a glimmer of where I was (suffering) and the direction in which this practice could move me (towards an understanding that minimized my suffering) and I liked it. I became a “KPY convert” that day nearly 6 years ago. Since then I have felt myself continue to grow, to become less neurotic and happier, to be kinder and gentler to the folks around me, and, I hope, to see the world and myself in greater alignment with reality. Back then, I couldn’t really see any lighted paths or illuminated exit signs, but with each story my hunch grew that I was headed in the right direction.
A Prelude to This Blog — AKA How I Went from Dhamma Hermit to Dhamma Blogger in ‘Just’ 5 Years
So, Neecha and Phra Anan actually asked me to start this blog years ago (2011). At first I said yes (because who wants to disappoint their teachers?) but then…on second thought…no. Neecha told me, “We just get so excited about your practice because it progresses naturally and your examples are so clear that we want others to see how it can be done”. But honestly, I just didn’t think I was someone worthy of writing a blog about Buddhism. I certainly had an image in my head of what a Super Buddhist looked like (the kind who wears a nifty get-up, cape optional, and who is worthy of blogging), someone who lives a holy life, someone humble, respectful, gentle in their speech and actions, someone who keeps the precepts flawlessly, someone compassionate and wise, someone entirely unlike me.
I’m just a regular person –I have a husband, a job, a mortgage and a fancy car. I have lots and lots and lots (and lots) of flaws –I can be vain, selfish, greedy, harsh, judgmental, mean to the people I love and owe the most – I have soooo many wrong views about this world and myself in it. But still, I practice.
I practice not in spite of these flaws, but because of them. I practice because these flaws, these traits, they cost me, they pain me and I want to be free. I practice because the more I practice the more clearly I see the cause of these faults, these broken perceptions, and I understand how to start chipping away at them. I practice because, well, it works; without a doubt the Dhamma has made me a less tortured, calmer, kinder, gentler version of myself. But hey, rest assured I’m still plenty crazy (otherwise you would be getting a pretty short blog 😉 so lets call this a work in progress. Finally then, after just a few short years of total delusion, I realized that a well-qualified person to write a blog about being on the path is someone who is, you know, actually on the path so…here I am, one of KPY’s new bloggers.
______________________________________________________________________________________________
So maybe, in some cases, this would be a good stopping point. You know the soppy-sweet story; you have the conclusion, that’s the important stuff, right? In fact, from here this entry does get a little complicated so, if you’re having trouble reading on, if it’s hit the point of snooze, just skip the rest of this entry and head to the next, it’s the story that starts my path. Seriously, that’s a perfectly reasonable option, you can always come back and get here later –I sure did.
But I did promise you a blog about my path…that is the steps that got me from there to here…so, to be fair, I will start with this (very long) pre-blog and see exactly what misunderstandings I started to correct that helped me change my mind, my view, about blogging.
Everyday Alana versus the Super Buddhist –
A: Choose a Side — for a long time I have struggled to reconcile the idea that there seems to be a war going on between 2 sets of desires, one to be super Buddhist Alana and the other to be regular everyday life Alana. On one side, there is some great saintly creature, worthy of the title “Buddhist”, an aspiration Alana really, who has all the “Super Buddhist” qualities I listed above and then some (FYI I would definitely have a cape, can’t pass-up an accessory). Then there is little ole regular life Alana, the wife, employee, crazy flawed person, who still does love my life, love my family, love my stuff, who is just not ready to let go. But right off, there is a wrong view here: That I am, I can always be one thing, one Alana ; that I can always be my imagined ideal, that that ideal is even fixed and accurate; that it’s actually better for me to just be that one Alana; that Alanas exist in diametrically opposed pairs and I need to choose one; that it is even about choosing, controlling, exercising my will and –poof — it’s done, I am a certain thing ( do you guys think I can be a fairy princess?) .
B: Who’s making the rules and are they actually fixed– But wait, there’s more…I saw that the idea of a “Super Buddhist”, who plays by certain rules, meets certain criteria, its all in my head. I imagined up what this hero would look like, right down to the cape, and then I proceeded to judge myself against my own creation. I pretend that if I meet these criteria (which aren’t even fixed anyway), if I could just do a certain set of things, act a certain way, sacrifice enough to get there, then I would be the real deal. So, major spoiler alert (I promise future stories about this with way more detail) but: A) you can’t just become a thing, we change, everything changes, there is no thingness that is permanent and real; B) there is no way to act your way to any ideal: Compassion, Buddhistiness, wisdom, selflessness, etc — these are causes, the actions that follow are the results –you can’t just flip it around.
As for regular Alana, which is also a product of my imagination, my curation, is she fixed? Never to change from being the little ole me I am now? I used to be a vegetarian but now I’m not, I used to be a smoker but now I’m not, I used to dress like a hipster denying my deep love of the color pink – now if you could only see how many heart-shaped pink belts I have in my closet.
C: Maybe a different, “working definition” of Buddhist (super or otherwise): I really started thinking about what it means, to me, to be a Buddhist and it’s about being on a path. Not just any path however, the path the Buddha laid out for his followers (i.e. Buddhists) to follow. The very first step on the Path (Eight Fold) is Right View i.e. aligning my understanding of the world to reality. Reality is that everything is impermanent, subject to change, to cease, to die, and that woven into the fabric of our lives is suffering , discontent, peril and consequence, all brought about by our failure to see the world as it really is.
With every story you see here, in everyday of my life, I am constantly trying to pluck out the wrong views, trying to shift my perspective, trying to retrain my mind to see the impermanence I tend to ignore, to understand the costs of my choices, my beliefs. So am I worthy to blog? It really depends on who you ask, whose criteria we are using? But, for me, I finally, came to see how something as seemingly simple as not wanting to keep this blog (plus a ton of other stories, struggles, beliefs and decisions in the last few years) could be underpinned by these strong ,but totally crazy and inaccurate beliefs. So now, worthy or not, I’m ready.
