This contemplation is part of a series of exercises, derived from the Anatta-Lakkhana Sutra, that I did during my 2020 personal retreat. For more details please see the blog titled Introduction to Contemplations From 2020 Personal Retreat.
Day 2: Part 1: My Fish Tank
My fish tank is not under my control (it is not mine, it does not conform to my view of it, it doesn’t act in accordance with my imagination or fantasies).
If my fish tank were under my control the glass would not be so fragile — it wouldn’t so easily scratch or chip and I wouldn’t have to worry about it shattering.
If my fish tank were under my control then I could just set it up and it would be easy to maintain– a little cleaning, a little feeding, and it would keep a steady state equilibrium where the PH and the lighting and the plant load and fish load existed in perfect balance.
If my fish tank were under my control one fish would never attack another, the plants would never grow unchecked, and an algae bloom wouldn’t starve the fish and plants of oxygen. At a minimum, that fish tank would accept and appreciate all my ‘fixes’ and ‘maintenance’ without creating further problems in return.
If that fish tank were actually under my control, I could say, ” Oh fish tank, when I bought you I imagined you would be just an easy, pretty thing. Please be the tank of my imagination and stop being so fragile. Stop with the algae blooms that kill the plants and the PH adjustments that harm the shrimp, and the aggressive fighting catfish and please, please, please just stay in a balanced state so that I can sit back, relax and enjoy you.”
Alas, my fish tank was never the fish tank of my imagination. Dozens of scratches and huge chip in the corner prove it was never under my control. Glass by its nature is fragile, easy to scratch or chip or shatter when a solid of sufficient force encounters it.
Keeping my tank maintained and in balance was a fight of epic proportions. When I went too long without changing the water, ammonia levels rose and my test strips condemned me with dire warning akin to: ‘Red alert you fish murderer.’ When I changed the waster too frequently chlorine levels rose and my test strips condemned me with dire warning akin to: ‘Red alert you fish murderer’.
Just a slight excess of food, the same amount that had worked fine for weeks, led to decay that led to bacteria that deprived the tank of oxygen that started killing my plants. When algae became a problem I bought a ‘cleaner catfish’ to eat the algae, only the catfish was super aggressive and started attacking my other fish. When I put rocks in the tank so my other fish could hide from the bully cat fish the rocks changed the tank PH and my test strips condemned me with dire warning akin to: ‘Red alert you fish murderer.’
I thought that tank would be a fun toy, but in reality tanks are a complex, interdependent system where components continually shift and impact one another. This is natural — four element objects continually shift and change, they interact with each other and the environment precipitating further change. They act in accordance with the rules of rupa, not the fishtank fantasies of Alana.
“So Alana, is your fish tank constant or inconstant?” “Great Lord, that darn tank was constantly inconstant: chemical balances changing, fish dying, shrimp breeding, plants spreading…what worked perfectly to care for it one day lead to massive disaster and die off the next.”
“And Alana, is something that is inconstant stress full or easeful?” “Stressful! The irony Great Lord, is that I was so sure that my tank was going to ease my stress, that it would be the relaxing ‘moving picture’, that all the tanks in the mall and the fish store looked to be. But those mall/ fish store moments were just that — brief moments — where tanks appeared to be balanced and harmonious. Once I got the tank home the full picture became clear, constant work to upkeep, continual fear that any given shift –totally out of my control– would destroy the thing I loved.
“Alright Alana, here is the biggie question — do you really think it is fitting to be calling something you don’t control, that is inconstant and stressful ‘you’ or ‘your’ or representative of you’?
Well Great Lord, I still can’t give you a firm, exuberant ‘hellz no’, but I will say this…When I desire something, and therefore seek to claim it as ‘mine.’ I am only really seeing one side of it. I want the pretty, flashy, relaxing, fun bits. I either ignore the ugly, stressful, difficult, decaying parts or I ignore the pain and suffering that getting those ‘dark-side’ parts will bring me. But with glass I get breaking. With fish I get death and loss. With a mini ecosystem I get a ton of upkeep and work. If something is ‘mine’ it has to be mine in all its states, not just the ones I want.
Day 2: Part 2: My Fish Tank to My Body
My body is not under my control (it is not mine, it does not conform to my view of it, it doesn’t act in accordance with my imagination or my fantasies)
If my body were under my control it wouldn’t be so fragile — my skin wouldn’t scratch, my joints wouldn’t chip and bones wouldn’t break.
If my body were under my control then I could just do the basic care and feeding, add in a little working out and sleeping, and I would be good to go. This body would just hit a stride of steady state equilibrium — my blood sugar, cholesterol, vitamins and hormones all in perfect balance.
If my body were under my control I would never worry about cancer cells attacking healthy cells, about a mole growing unchecked or that a fungal infection that would kill off my ‘good bacteria.’ At a minimum, my body would let me ‘fix’ it without spiraling into further diseases and decay.
If my body were under my control, I would damn well know it by now because I have spent many nights pleading with it. I say, “body, please just be the thing I imagine you to be, be healthy and dependable, be beautiful and ageless, be mobile and fit and pain free. At least, be a little more like the body I had in my 20s, or I’d even settle for 30s…”But alas, my body doesn’t respond, it is not the body of my imagination.
Instead I live with constant fragility — nails that chip and hair that breaks. Joints that are already wearing down and a fractured toe that will attest to the fact that with sufficient force, a hard jagged pavement can break a bone.
Keeping this body maintained and in balance is literally a struggle for my life. I started taking green coffee supplement to manage my blood sugar but it irritated my bladder, causing incontinence. I started eating meat to manage low blood sugar, but the saturated fats have made my cholesterol too high. I apply sunscreen to protect my skin but as a result my vitamin D levels are too low. I use a steroid inhaler to keep my airways from constricting, but the very same chemical that opens my airways leads to fungal overgrowth in my mouth. I took up running to increase my cardiovascular health, but stripped my hip joint in the process. I await lab results from every check-up with bated breath — always afraid I will find some new, lurking, imbalance that endangers my life.
From my perspective, it feels like my body is constantly faltering and breaking, but in truth its behavior is completely natural, not broken. This body is a complex, interdependent system where components continually shift and impact each other. In this body, the 4 elements are constantly shifting, interacting with each other internally and with other 4 element objects externally: Aggregating, re-aggregating/shifting/changing proportions, disaggregating, consuming and being consumed. This is the cycle of Rupa. No matter how much I fantasize it were otherwise, this is the cycle to which ‘my’ rupa body is enslaved.
“Allrighty Alana, you know the questions by now.” “Yes, Great Dharma Lord, shoot”
1) Is that bod of yours constant or inconstant? — this body is constantly inconstant. Every year, every day, hell every minute is something new. Last year my cholesterol was alright, now it is through the roof. A few months ago my rosacea was fine and then suddenly I had a horrible flare. I go through cycles of hot/cold, hungry/satiated, tired/alert. It changes so frequently, and sometimes so subtly, I can’t keep up, I’m not even fully aware, even if it is something like a growing cancer or blood clot that imperils my very life. Above everything, I wish I could go back to a time when I was healthier and prettier. At least I would feel at ease if I could ‘keep what I have now’, but my body keeps changing.
2) Is something that is inconstant stressful or easeful? I could literally write volumes about my fear, stress, sorrow and loss — just focused on my body — and still it wouldn’t cover the half of it. Right this moment I await results of a skin biopsy, nervous that my long standing ‘spot’ morphed before my eyes, unbeknownst to me creeping from benign to malignant. The thing is, My Lord, in those moments I get a clean bill of health, in those moments I feel fit-as-a-fiddle and oh-so-pretty, I relish in this body: I primp it, preen it, travel in it and peacock around, and all the stress and anxiety of its sick/aging/loss side are nearly forgotten…
3) Drum roll please….Is something that is clearly not in your control, mega inconstant and epicly stressful fitting to be called ‘you’ or ‘yours’ or ‘your representative’? I don’t know Great Lord, it’s my body, it is so so so damn hard to see it as anything but ‘self’ or ‘mine’ or ‘me’. But I will share this…
The other night I was in the shower, looking down at a body that, let’s face it, has seen fitter and perkier days. It made me depressed to think about the loss of that old body and even more depressed to know that this new one –assuming I live long enough– would likely give way to something even more atrophied. Sure I had a few good years of being at a physical prime, but relative to sub/post prime years how many were truly prime? How did I agree to sign-up for this sometimes-satisfactory-form, but more-time-unsatisfactory-form? And even if I signed-up for a ‘body rental’ for utility sake, why did I grasp at this body, and claim it ,and mine-ify the thing? Why did I get so bound-up, make it the foundation of a ‘fit/hot’ identity that couldn’t possibly last? If I am going to claim this body as mine, I should at least be claiming it in all its shifting, decaying, disaggregating states. If I am healthy Alana I am sick Alana. If I am pretty Alana I am ugly Alana. If I am baby Alana and teenage Alana and 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s, …..Alana, don’t I also have to be corpse Alana? Maggot eaten Alana? totally disaggregated Alana?