Yet Another Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Programming — Everything is Dukka Part 2

Dear Reader, this blog is a direct continuation of the last, Yet Another Interruption in Our Regularly Scheduled Programming — Everything is Dukka Part 1: Seriously, this is not one of those to try skipping ahead to get to the punchline. If you haven’t already done so, go back and read the last blog prior to reading the continuation here.

Just a a little refresher for those of you who have read the past blog, below is yet more evidence to support my contemplations on the topic that everything is dukka. The evidence is organized into themes, based around the best examples I found to help prove to myself an assertation I had heard many times from my teachers — that everything is suffering. Moreover, I sought to understand not just the conclusion, but the WHY: Why everything in the world must be suffering, what it is about the nature of the world and everything in it that guarantees that every leaf I turn, every rock I look under, every new corner I turn, I will always find the suffering innate in this world.


  • Where there is desire/craving there is stress and there is ALWAYS desire: I had read the news about Omicron and I was stressed (another word for suffering), specifically I was stressed because I so desperately desired to go on a planned trip to see my family, but I also desperately desire to stay healthy and avoid Covid. So I stressed to come-up with a plan where maybe I could do both, private flight, driving to Miami, better masks, etc. All this stressing going on in my mind on my drive to Pilates class, where I paused my family/omicron stress, to stress about hitting each red light and getting stuck behind a slow driver because I was also stressed about making it to class on time. Stressed about what the teacher would think of me if I was late, etc.

I realized I live in a state of constant stress and the reason is my constant desire.  Afterall, if I didn’t give a damn about seeing family, or protecting this body, or what folks think of me, I wouldn’t care about canceled trips or Covid or being late to class. The continually shifting sand of this world (impermanence again) wouldn’t bother me at all.  But because I do want to acquire what I desire, protect what I desire, and avoid what I feel threatens those things I desire, I live under constant stress. Everything in this world is bound-up with desire, it is literally the cause of my entering this world and remaining in it. Therefore everything in this world is also bound-up with dukka –so long as my heart desires, there is absolutely no freedom from stress.

  • A burden is a burden, even when you pick it up without noticing its burdensomeness, or are reluctant to put it down: Recently my employee quit and I have been covering his administrative tasks, tasks that I hate, tasks I find stressful and burdensome. As I was dreading another day ‘at the office’, I considered the fact that this is just my duty, my responsibility, the obligations that come with my role. What else is a job after all, but a duty, an obligation? For years, I have focused on the benefits I enjoy from my job –enrichment, mental stimulation, a sense of belonging, a building block of my identity. Distracted by these benefits, I shut my eyes to what a duty/role really is — a responsibility, a commitment, a burden that I have assumed. But it is only a matter of time, a shift in circumstance, before the dukka side of each role/object/relationship show themselves and by then, both worldly norms and my own imagination/ sense of self/sense of obligation make it difficult to put them down. I would like to quit my job, but I feel like I ‘owe’ my employer. I feel like I would be a bad employee, create bad karma by quitting now when they are so understaffed. Plus, I worry about who an  Alana without a title, a job, would be, where my value would come from, how hard it would be to find a new job that allowed me so much flexibility. Everything I take up in this world is a burden, a tether, an obligation –no matter the benefits I perceive myself to enjoy from it — and burdensomeness is just another word for dukka.
  • There is no such thing as a happy memory: After several months of lockdown I had noticed I was beginning to have intrusive memories of bygone times. I would be doing zoom pilates and have an image of my last pre-pandemic vacation in Japan. Walking around the block and recalling a time I ate with friends in a restaurant. Reading emails and recalling an amazing concert I had attended. These were all happy memories and one day I started considering them more closely. I evaluated dozens of happy memories–trips, meals, times with family and friends and I watched my heart as I recalled each one. I realized that when I recalled happy times, there was always a sensation of nostalgia that arose. And what is nostalgia but longing? Missing something that is already gone, that can’t be retrieved. The happier the memory, the more tinged it was with nostalgia. If happiness now is the cause of suffering later, isn’t it just delayed suffering? When we ingest poison, even if it tastes delicious going down, don’t we still call it ‘poison’ based on its harmful effects?  It seems to follow that even happy times are dukka.
  • Imagination is how you end up in bed with a vampire: At the start of one of my favorite shows, True Bloods,  the main character, Sukkie, has never had a boyfriend because she is psychic and can hear everyone’s thoughts, she knows exactly how sleezy all the men in town are and she has no interest in dating them. Then she meets Bill, whose thoughts she is unable to read because he is a vampire, and she quickly falls in love. It’s not that Bill is so great, it’s just that she can imagine him to be whatever she likes because she can’t read his thoughts. The reality of dating a vampire though is a life –or at least 8 seasons –of constant struggle, disappointment, death and danger. Imagination lulls Sukkie, it lulls all of us, into danger; we willingly march toward dukka because imagination feeds the hope that we will get sukka. But the real story of this world is a reality of dukka while chasing the fantasy of sukka. This world, like Vampire Bill, isn’t so great, but because we imagine it to be whatever we like, we just keep diving in –this imagination we love so much, identify with so closely, is our all-you-can-ride ticket on the dukka rollercoaster that is this world.
  • A body that facilitates pleasure is the source of all pain: After my mom’s accident I walked into the hospital to find her moaning in agony, a drip of opiates doing little to numb her pain. The problem with having a body is its a guarantee to pain: Sometimes its the little stuff: lungs aching from asthma, eye burning from allergies, the continual throb from a nagging shoulder injury. Or just the daily discomforts: Hunger, too cold/ hot, enduring unpleasant sounds and smells, even just sitting still too long makes me uncomfortable. But one way or another bodies are the root of all physical suffering, suffering that simply ebbs and wanes by degree. Which made me stop to consider why anyone would sign-up for a body in the first place… at least part of the answer is pleasure of course (the other part is our belief that rupa can help us build and prove our identities  –we long ago established you need a rupa suit to play in a rupa world).
Back when I was contemplating on the 4es a lot, I came to realize pain is mostly excess pressure (though at times it can be too little/much heat). The problem, that any massage shows us, is that it is a fine line between pleasurable pressure and pain. We come into this world to experience worldly delights, but the same mechanism by which we experience pleasure (an arrangement of 4es that can sense pressure or heat) ensures we will inevitably experience pain. The organs we use to hear/smell beauty guarantee we will hear/see things that make us uncomfortable. But this body is not just a mechanism by which we experience physical pain, it is the cause. Physical pain is a result of embodiment. Having a body is painful, having a body is dukka.
  • If not having is dukka, and having is dukka, where is sukka? Eric and I are in Miami seeing family for 3 months and we are staying at a lovely Airbnb overlooking the ocean. Waking up to such beauty is so delightful and after a few days being here I already began to worry about going home, about losing the experience of such beauty. A few days after that, a super stressful quest to buy a condo in the same building had commenced (there were fights with Eric, a bidding war, a super shady realtor, etc.)Ultimately, I decided a home in Miami, particularly when we need to get back to CT when Eric’s office opens in April, is not worth the stress. It isn’t worth the burden of buying, or caring for it, or worrying about during hurricane season when we can’t even use it right now.
Still though, as I looked out at the ocean again this morning it got me thinking: Not having something is suffering, otherwise we wouldn’t chase, we wouldn’t work so hard to aquire. Desire is deep and the urge to fulfill it is primal. Hunger, as we have already established is dukka. But having this ocean view is suffering too. Just as enjoyment dawned, so too did the impulse to keep and preserve what I already have. The fear of loss, the effort and drama to make it mine, just so I can buy the option of an (imaginary) future with this ocean view.  But what I leave out of that future vision is the truth that even when I have something I need to work to preserve it (dukka), and I will fear losing it (dukka), and I will ultimately actually lose it (more dukka)  — a deed won’t change that anymore than a 3 month rental agreement.  Which brings me to the point that if having something is suffering, and not having something is suffering, isn’t everything Dukka?
  • Things that shift out of states I want are stressful, and everything shifts out of states I want: Yesterday I went to pick-up a special sweet treat to give to my brother for his birthday. The treat had both hot and cold components, so once I left the restaurant with the to go order, I felt like I was ‘on the clock’ to get over to Seth’s house. I was looking for shortcuts, trying to get ahead of traffic, speeding a bit –I didn’t want the treat to either get too cold or to melt. It dawned on me that this treat, that was supposed to bring enjoyment, was bringing me stress, and I got to thinking about why. The answer is that while perfectly warm and cold may be  the peak state for the desert, I know damn well that the desert can’t possibly stay in that peak state for very long. The reason for this is that the perfect balance of crispy fried bits and frozen custard are not the NATURE of the desert, it is just a single state. The actual nature of the dessert is an arrangement of 4es that continually shifts according to the causes and conditions of this world — custard exposed to Miami sun melts and fried bits exposed to ambient temperatures cool.
Of course, this phenomenon doesn’t end with sweet treats. Everything has a peak state, and nothing ever remains in that state, because the nature of this world, and everything in it, is flux. The problem is more than just the fact that I want ice cream, but have to accept that it melts because there are two sides (that was my old conclusion that life entails both sukka and dukka and they come together). The deeper problem is that the very NATURE of ice cream is meltability, but I falsely imagine its nature to be my preferred perfectly frozen state. Blindly I seek satisfaction in objects and circumstances because I don’t understand what they are, but the length of time they remain in states that I find satisfactory is brief (or at least it is never long enough), and even while they exist in that state I stress over the impending shift. No matter how delicious a perfectly peak desert may be, it is clearly stressful, because what shifts and fades and moves out of states I like is stressful and disappointing.  But the nature of everything in this world is to shift and fade and move out of states I like, therefore everything in this world is stressful and disappointing (aka dukka).
  • A no-win world is a dukka world: I was listening to an NPR story about the obesity epidemic, about how even smaller amounts of excess weight, particularly around the midsection, are bad for our health and it dawned on me: Back in the day, food was often scarce, so humans evolved in order to store fat. Fat storage enabled humans to survive for hundreds of thousands of years. But today, in our society, food is abundant and the very mechanism –fat storage — that enabled us to survive for so long, is now a physiological feature that puts us at risk for death and disease. Again here, the problem is circumstances are always changing, there are so many angles and aspects to life’s complex processes, the very same thing that is a blessing in one circumstance is a liability in another. There are always two sides. My apartment in San Fran that brought me so much joy when I was traveling for work, was the source of extreme stress when I had to either keep paying the rent, or figure out how to organize a long distance move during the pandemic lockdown. My old Porsche made me feel awesome in Carmel, but super scared in Soma. With the basic truth of continual change, it is hard not to see that there is really no way to win in this world, because all you need to do is wait and a win will become a loss. Worse, the very quality/object/trait that helped you win will become what ensures your loss. Take it from a former Candy Crush Master, something may be fun for a while, keep you busy, makes you feel clever, but ultimately (in my case at about level 900), playing a game there is no way to win comes to feel like sheer torture. Isn’t an unwinnable world a world of dukka?  My only problem is persisting in the delusion I can win.
  • The things I love are like toggle bolts — They go in so smoothly, but it’s all sorts of hell when it is time to pull them out.  My little brother did something that deeply hurt my feelings. As I was contemplating on the situation it dawned on me: Seth  and I weren’t always close. We were as kids, but we drifted apart as adults. It wasn’t until in my 30s, after I decided I wanted to BE a better family member, after I decided there was virtue to be had in the identity of being a good sister, that I embarked on acting, and eventually feeling, the part. I used my brother, our relationship, to bolster my identity, but doing so was a double edged sword — as our relationship came to symbolize my virtue, his disapproval/rejection took on the power to deflate me. The pain I was feeling was something I did to myself, it was a consequence of the satisfaction I seek in the identities I  build.
The problem is we hunt for sukka in the identity we build with relationships, jobs, stuff, but when we lose these things –or they behave in ways we view as an affront to the identities we cherish — we suffer a massive gut punch. As soon as we fall in love with something (the instant desire turns to clinging), that thing sinks little claws under our skin, claws that go in smooth, almost unnoticed like a toggle bolt into drywall. But when that thing is yanked out, its hooks catch, pulling against the grain and it is sheer suffering to have them removed. Suffering that we welcomed with open arms by letting those claws sink in in the first place.
There is an old song about a woman who sees a sick snake on the side of the road and decides to nurture it back to health. She feeds it, warms it, loves it and then is shocked when, fully recovered, the snake bites her. The song ends with the snake saying, “you knew damn well I was a snake before you took me in”. These things we seek sukka in, props for our identity and imagination, aren’t actually sukka, they are toggles waiting to be ripped out, snakes waiting to bite…a coiled cobra waiting to strike looks a lot like dukka to me.
  • Everything nama touches turns to dukka: Eric and I were driving down to Key West and it was a beautiful day — the perfect mix of humidity, wind, warmth from the sun — as I soaked it in, I realized there really is comfort in this world, i.e. there are physical circumstances a 4e being, with a particular 4e arrangement, finds comfortable. Just so, there is beauty, deliciousness, etc. The problems however arise as soon as Nama enters the scene: The moment Nama senses something, it goes into overdrive, if it likes it it clings and begins to scheme ways to maximize, to prolong, it plots to recreate and obtain more, it stresses over loss, it is saddened by loss and the future imagined without what we claimed/cling to. If nama dislikes it rejects, schemes ways to avoid, to disclaim and disassociate with what it doesn’t like and stresses to be near that thing, enduring suffering until it can disassociate. Nama is basically a dukka factory, it consumes everything around it and regurgitates dukka. Nothing is left unconsumed and unturned. So no matter what is actually in the world, as soon as our nama touches it, it turns to suffering. And there is nothing we experience untouched by nama, so functionally (at least till we stop craving and clinging) everything must be dukka.
  • Enjoyment is just turning a blind eye to suffering:  I was thinking about my love of travel and realized that one of the things I love the most about it is that I see vacation as a time when I can put aside my daily worries and burdens a bit. I can relax, enjoy, de-stress. The thing is, just because I put aside my to-do list for a bit, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there; in fact, it seems to grow with every email that piles up while my ‘out of office’ is on. With vacation there is food indulgence which I tell myself to  ‘worry about later’,  all while engaging in the very eating, and weight gain, that causes me shame and stress and that will require vigor and effort and sacrifice to ‘repent from’ when I get home.  Since the tasks required to tend to a breakable, decaying, body are endless and routine, there always seems to be a mammogram, or broken crown, or some other painful, anxiety producing procedure/ appointment on the calendar for just after I get home. All through the trip I try to put it out of mind, tell myself to worry later, though the worrisome stuff lies in wait for me upon my return. When I look at my vacation habits, I see that enjoyment requires, in fact may fundamentally be, the act of closing my eyes tight and pretending –pretending what is effortful is fun, pretending the world will go as I want it to, pretending that struggle/burden/difficulty isn’t always lurking. Enjoyment is just times suffering doesn’t intrude on my imagination. Which must mean that suffering is the ever-present reality of the world — it never disappears — my imagination just lulls me into a fantasy world, and I shut my eyes,pretend, at least until that ever-present dukka intrudes forcefully enough for me to notice.

Once again, I am going to cut this off at a somewhat arbitrary point. There are just so many examples/themes and thoughts it feels like cutting it up into more ‘bite sized chunks’ is the best approach for this blog. So stay tuned till next time …

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