A note on timing: The next few blogs are from contemplations that took place during the 2018 Vassa Period. In other words, they are interspersed in time with the ‘fact finding’ activities posted in the previous blog section. In a few, you can clearly see the influence of my ongoing activities exploring impermanence, control and my sense of specialness.
Yesterday a friend told me that a mutual acquaintance of ours, Jill, had at long last found a job after looking for many months. The job was in China and my friend pointed out that, in the end, Jill had to leave the country to find a new job because her reputation here was so tarnished. I thought to myself, “duh, Jill should have known better.” I mean really, Jill was caught doing lines of cocaine in the work bathroom, of course her reputation was ruined.
This morning, I was walking to work and I passed a homeless woman on the street, belligerently asking for money. I thought I’m not giving to this woman –she is belligerent. Besides, whatever she did to get out here, she should have known better.
This idea, of ‘should have known better’, it is the finest jewel in my crown of special. The reason I am not Jill (with her drug problem), or homeless, or that rape victim on NPR (getting into a car with a strange drug dealer) is that I know better. I make better life decisions… But do I?
I thought of Ongalimala again — killing 999 people, I mean shouldn’t he have known better? And can I really say I know better than him? A guy who had the karma to actually encounter the Buddha and become enlightened?
- Did I know better when I agreed to take a 5-day trip with my Mom, with whom I regularly struggle to spend a single afternoon with before a fight ensues? Sort of. I could have deduced that based on her personality, and mine, the trip would cause us both suffering. But I wanted to satisfy her wish to travel and spend time together. In truth, I had a wrong view, at the time I planned the trip, I didn’t yet understand. It was only after the trip, that began to contemplate on my own deep seeded need to prove that I am a ‘good daughter’ by satisfying my mother’s desires. On the trip, I saw evidence of just how hard it is to make my mom happy, how insatiable she is –over and over she wanted more time at the museum, more restaurant choices, more tours, more, more, more. That trait, the need for more, lives in her, it is not something I can change. It is not something I can fix because it is not broken. By making my own goodness (in my mind) contingent on ‘fixing’ my mom, by making her satisfied, I set myself up for failure. I went on the trip to be the ‘hero’, to prove the identity of good daughter, and ended up feeling like a both a victim to my mom’s anger, and a villain who snapped at her in return. So did I know better? Sorta, but I had my reasons for going anyway.
- Did I know better when I was in college and I came mighty close to crossing the line of cheating? Close, but not quite. Sort of. I could have understood I live in a society and I am subject to its norms on relationships and cheating. But in truth, I really didn’t understand that morality, right and wrong, wasn’t governed by me — by the rules I imagined and the lines I thought were appropriate. Back then, my view was different, before practice helped me to internalize and consider issues from multiple perspectives, I never stopped to question my own perspective; I assumed it was right by default. How could I have understood that my arbitrary line, of what is good behavior versus bad behavior in a relationship, wasn’t the governing force of whether I caused suffering/harm to others or myself?
- Did I know better when I used use-and-dump all those friends and lovers who in my mind I was just having a good time with? People to hang with, go out with, sleep with, but not really commit to in a meaningful way. Sort of — I could have thought about the golden rule, or put myself in their shoes. But in truth, back then I really didn’t understand everyone didn’t view relationships the way I did. How could I have known I would hurt these people when my only rubric for something pain-worthy was myself, and the short flings didn’t bother me at all.
- Did I know better when I moved to NY, when I up-ended a life I enjoyed in SF for a place that ultimately left me miserable? Sort of. Before I moved to NY, on a visit, I noticed the noise, the meanness, the filth, I could have guessed it would be a very difficult place for me to live and be happy. But I thought I could be the master of my world — some how make arrangements to build my own little bubble in Manhattan where I was comfortable and safe. I thought I could bring my chill-easy -going- Cali girl attitude with me where ever I went, that I somehow possessed a capacity for deep inner peace that lived in me always. The irony is, as a long-time practioner, I already understood ‘wrong views’ , I could have more carefully examined my beliefs before I left. I could have seen that I don’t control either the world, or even my ‘inner life’. That I am not master of any universe. It may have changed things. But really, I believed the power to change my environment and my feelings was in me.. So how could I have really known I wasn’t going to be OK in NY?
What is more, is this problem isn’t even isolated to me. Its pretty universal, After all, everything that has a good side has a bad side. Unintended consequences arise (always) because we don’t know all the info/ the full costs of something. If I zoom out from my own life a bit, I can find so many examples: Uber has ruined driving in SF with traffic and aggression. But back when it started it seemed to solve a huge transport problem in the city. The community embraced it because we didn’t know better, we didn’t see how it would hurt the city. Air B and B is the same, with its convenience but also driving up rents. Legal guns, to protect white folks for Black Panthers and now everyone is a potential shooting victim. Plastic bags and straws and slash and burn agriculture…there are always unforeseen consequences.
So, back to me here… A friend, Ruby, came over, with an eye infection, talking about how she refused to get glasses and/or change to daily wear lenses. She said she had her routine and wasn’t going to change it, even as she suffered the pain and risk of further eye damage from an infection. I chastised her. I told her all contact wearers need glasses for just such an occasion, and that the perils of extended wear lenses are real. I told her the ease of dailies (1 day contact lenses). In my mind I’m thinking, I know better, my eyes are safe. But here is the thing, I just changed to daily wear 1 year ago. After an ophthalmologist scared me away from daily wear. After eye allergies had me so uncomfortable/vision so fuzzy, that I worried about my eyes and how frail they really can be. What is more, I used to not even have glasses. Again, it was an infection that got me to get a modern pair. It was my own experience having to run around blind without lenses. I am so critical of Ruby. I think I am so much better, safer, but literally 1 year ago I was more like her than like today’s me now.
A long time ago, Mae Yo answered a Q and A (its not one that ever managed to get published). It talked about someone who did something they regret as a teenager, about the guilt they feel. Mae Yo pointed out that, at the time, with the info they had, they did their best, made the best decision they could. That their adult self knows better, would do it differently now is sort of beyond the pale. This has been a comment that has stayed with me for years. Lately I see all the times I didn’t know better and now I do. Each time, I had my reasons, and they all basically boil down to not a taking a broad enough perspective, to thinking the world was going to revolve around me, my beliefs and biddings. But this is not how the world works, and my blindness to that fact leaves me exposed to the consequences of every fumbled act. If Jill should have known better, than Alana should too. Or maybe, a better framing is that as long as we act in blindness there really is no way to ‘know better’. I am not special, I just fumble in different ways, at different times, and the consequences bear fruit in different ways at different times.