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 3: Part 1: My Jeans
My jeans are not under my control (they are not mine, they change in accordance with their nature and not my rules, no alteration I make to them will avoid their final state of disaggregation).
If my jeans were under my control they would never get thinning spots or areas that become piled and bumpy. If my jeans were under my control they would stay that same smooth, tough, easy to care for fabric that they were when they were new.
If my jeans were under my control they wouldn’t have started sagging, stretching and loosening, especially not when when I use them according to their purpose, without being particularly rough or abusive to them.
At the very least, if my jeans were under my control they would accept the repair patches I apply without complaint. They would stay repaired, at least a little while, before starting to abrade and errode again, or tear in some new spot.
If my jeans were under my control, I could curse them, or coax them, or implore them or berate them, some word or action of mine would convince them to stop wearing and tearing. And, if they insisted on wearing and tearing, at least honoring my repairs and giving me a little while before I needed to worry about patching again.
But the reality is that my jeans are not under my control. The texture and shape change because the nature of the fabric makes them susceptible to texture and shape changes. Dirt and particles and surfaces in the environment or my body that come in contact with my jeans can shift the composition (the balance of 4es) of the jeans — they can become abraided, piled or stretched. Spills, or wash water, or detergent that come in contact with the jeans can also change their texture making them feel stiffened and thickened rather than the smooth they were when I bought them. Heat from my body or the dryer or the air can weaken the fabric of these jeans (again, shifting the balance of the 4es of the threads) making them even more susceptible to texture change or stretching/saging. This is normal.
Now, to be clear, I can definitely apply a patch to these eroding jeans. I have done it before, used my 4e hands to apply a 4e patch, altering the 4e balance of the jeans (by adding new 4e material) and achieving a repair. But soon after, my patch began to fray and peel up, so I know the repair is temporary.
So long as it is within the nature of the object to be repaired, it can be repaired. But because the nature of these jeans is ultimately to disaggregate, no effort on my part will ever, ever ever ever ever, ever prevent their ultimate demise because that demise is in their nature. So much for control Alana!
When the causes and conditions for this abrading/sagging/stretching/ stiffening/ patching/ patch peeling have been met, the jeans will shift and change no matter what my preferences, no matter how embarrassed I may be that my butt is hanging out..
“OK Alana, are your jeans constant or inconstant?” “Lord, they are clearly inconstant, they have a totally different fit/look/feel now then they did when I got them.”
“Alana, is something that is inconstant, as you described, satisfying or dissatisfying?” “Lord, I gotta go with dissatisfying on this one. I really would like for my jeans to stay in the like new state — that was the state I bought because that was the state I believed would be satisfying. To have it change like it has, is super disappointing, it makes me feel a little angry, a little bait-and-switched, I am not at all satisfied.”
“So Alana, if you don’t control your jeans, you can alter them temporarily but sure as heck can’t alter their march toward their final destination of demise, they are inconstant and unsatisfying, does it make logical sense to call these jeans ‘yours’? Are these jeans who you are? Are these jeans something you can count on to represent you? I mean really Alana, does your butt hanging out really represent you?”
“OK Lord, I swear I am working on getting to firm no. In the meantime, I will say this: These jeans are just a collection of elements, they aggregate into the shape of jeans, they change and shift their arrangement in accordance with their nature and then they ultimately shift into the state of jean demise. I can use these jeans for some period of time, I can alter them within the limits of their nature, but I have no hope at all of forcing them to alter beyond the bounds of their nature. I have no hope of keeping them. I will admit, to call something I can’t hold on to, I can’t control and I can’t ultimately rely on ‘mine’ is growing a bit challenging.
Day 3: Part 2: My Jeans are Like My Facial Skin
My facial skin is not under my control (it is not mine, it does not represent me, it changes in accordance with its nature and not my rules, no alteration I make to it will avoid its final state of disaggregation).
If my face skin were under my control I would not have rosacea. My skin wouldn’t get thin and crepey in some areas and thick and bumpy in others. It wouldn’t turn red or itch or burn. My skin would be smooth and pretty and perfect like it was when I was younger.
If my face skin were under my control, it wouldn’t sag or wrinkle, it wouldn’t stretch or loosen, especially not when I am diligent about facial exercises and sunscreen and moisturizer and facials.
At the very least, if my skin were under my control, my ‘fixes’ would actually ‘fix’ not temporarily patch, or do nothing visible, or make things worse. One botox shot would last forever, that pricey new moisturizer would have gotten rid of that under eye bag that is driving me nuts, and that first med my doc prescribed for rosacea wouldn’t have made the peeling and burning worse.
But, alas alack, I cannot prevent my skin from assuming arrangements I despise, and I cannot ultimately keep those arrangements, and far worse, at bay. At best, maybe, sometimes, possibly (with the risk of making stuff worse), I can temporarily alter the state of my skin — within the bounds of its nature — to sometimes/temporarily achieve a look/feel that runs closer rather than further from my imagination/desire. To call such temporary-maybe-sometimes-better-sometimes-worse alterations ‘control’ would idiotic: At the end of the day, no matter my will, my action, my speach or my desire, my facial skin’s elements will shift and adjust in accord with it’s nature and not according to my rules.
Therefore, it is totally normal when my rosacea flares up and my skin looks like a bumpy beat and burns. Afterall, microscopic insects that live on my skin (4e objects) can absolutely consume my skin and alter its balance of elements such that the resulting state is dry, burning, bumpy and red. Gravity and sun and the natural tendencies of aging and shifting in my own body can cause and contribute to my skin shifting shape and becoming saggy and laggy and droopy.
When the causes and conditions for this burning/red/bumpy/thinning/sagging/stretching/wrinkling/peeling and at last, total decay or consumption have been met, Alana can bet her booty (that is hanging out of her patch peeling jeans) that burning/red/bumpy/thinning/sagging/stretching/wrinkling/peeling and at last, total decay or consumption will ensue.
“OK Lady, lets do the questions then”. “You betcha Great Dharma Lord”
1) Is your face skin constant or inconstant? Oh its so obviously inconstant. I had the best skin as a kid, even a teen, no acne, smooth and pretty. Trouble didn’t start till 20, when the acne began, and then the rosacase, and then the eczema, and then the aging. And even each of these things are sometimes a little better and sometimes a little worse. My skin reflects its changing and changeable nature.
2) And is changing and inconstant skin satisfying or unsatisfying? I am so so so so deeply dissatisfied with my skin. I loved it when I was younger, but each change — in the direction I consider ‘wrong’ is a deep disappointment. It is an embarrassment. I look in the mirror and I cry sometimes at the loss of youth, at the unwillingness of my skin to cooperate. I itch at it and I ice it in the hope to reduce the pain.
Any, momentary satisfaction I had in it when I was younger is now long gone. Any satisfaction I feel when something ‘works’, the rosacea calms or the lotions and potions smooth, is just the grounds for future dissatisfaction when the skin again shifts out of an arrangement I prefer. More sorrow, more drama, more disappointment when what worked for 1 moment fails to work for 2.
3) If you don’t control your skin, it is inconstant and totally unsatisfying, can you really say that it is ‘you’ or ‘yours’ or ‘represents you’? This is a work in progress My Lord, but here is where I am at:
My Jeans, my skin, and every object in this world is just a bundle of elements marching through shifting states of rupa. Rupa objects interact with each other, with the environment, they can shift course (though never go back), but the final destination is always the same, disaggregation or consumed (or some combination of the two). When the arrangement of skin necessary to manifest rosacea arises, rosacea will arise. I (my nama) can scheme a plan to call the doc, get a script, and my hands can apply the meds (another 4e object). In this regard I can be a cause for a change in my skin, but I can not guarantee a result.
I have used rosacea drugs that didn’t visibly do crap . I have used rosacea drugs that helped and I have used rosacea drugs that made my skin worse. Because any cause I put in place does not ensure the result I want, I am not in control.
The problem is, when I sometimes get a result that is more, rather than less, in line with my imagination/desires, I convince myself I am lord and master of my skin. It is those moment, when the med actually works (at least temporarily) and my skin looks clear and smooth, that I preen in front of the bathroom mirror thinking that there is me, it is mine, it represents me, its current state is in line (ore or less, with one eye closed if I squint kinda hard since 41 is clearly not 21) with who I think I am (ohh the me I wanna be). Unfortunately, it is also those moments that feed both the delusion and the hope and set me up for a world of hurt later on.
Later on will come. A few days after I achieved ‘clear skin’ from my latest meds, I was greeted in the morning mirror with a big new bump. Suddenly my skin wasn’t me, it didn’t represent me, it was aberration — an alteration away from what my mind, in just a few days’ time, had convinced me was normal. But the real normal is 4e skin shifting according to its nature, changing form when stimulus for change has been reached. Sometimes that is bumpy form. Sometimes it is smooth form. Always its end form is disintegration.
So I guess the real questions for me to consider are these: Can I really find anything of substance in a shifting mass of elements that inevitably, ultimately, c
ease that I can call ‘me’? Especially when I actually only want to call certain states along that shifting set of elements me/represent me/mine? At the very least, I should claim the whole thing in all its states.
And if an object, or my skin, or my body, is just a shifting mass of aggregated elements does it really represent anything other than itself — either its momentary trail marker or perhaps its entire march along the entropy parade path? I know, I know, my mind likes to imagine that I can superimpose myself, my reflection, onto that shifting mass, but the efforts seem a bit hollow when I can’t, not even temporarily, guarantee it’ll assume or hold that shape I am seeking (out damned spot). I mean I would never send my crazy, loud mouthed, unpredictable, totally disobedient, employee to represent me at a conference…
As for something being mine, I’ll admit this is the hardest for me to see right now. Afterall, objects have utility, I can in fact sometimes use them…until I can’t. Which brings me to the question of whether or not I can claim an object that, by its very nature, is a ‘loaner’? Each and every item, even my body, has a rental period when it is up, it is up, whether I want it to be or not.
A part of me just wants to admit that I can call something mine, or I can call it “Bessie the Cow” , but at the end of the day each object and I will part ways, march away from each other on separate courses. Now, or sooner, or later my time with my skin will come up. Now, sooner or later, my time with my body will come up. Despite all I imagine this body to be, despite the future I have fantasized for it, despite how desperately I feel/think I need it, we will part ways.