I had been reading the NY Times and I came across an article that completely blew my mind: https://www.nytimes.com/2020/11/09/science/what-makes-sand-soft.html — it was about sand. Apparently, this seemingly simple, everyday substance poses one of the deepest challenges to physics, so much so that despite the efforts of some of science’s greatest minds, there exists no ‘general theory of sand’.
Even in a closed system, like an hourglass, where you know the shape and size of the particles encased, the variables of how exactly they will interact are too numerous. There is no way to know how long it will take sand to flow, or even if it will flow at all. All you can do is flip the glass and see.
I honestly couldn’t believe it, I found it viscerally unsettling. I just kept wondering at how something so obvious, so simple, so friggin ancient and low-tech as sand in a jar, could be unpredictable. And then, like any good mindblown Buddhist, I turned inward and asked myself why learning a basic fact about the universe was so shocking/shaking to me. What was it about the unpredictability of lowly sand that was sending me on a mind trip?
I felt like a fool: You see, on some level, I really believe I can game the system. With more knowledge, with study, with resources, I will be able to ‘interpret rupa’ and by learning its secrets I can use it freely. I can predict the future and have the right rupa to prepare me for it. I can be on top and stay on top. I can be surrounded by an environment that is comfy and safe. This is the premise, the silent assumptions, that underlie my desire — my willingness — to be born into an otherwise terrifying, Dukka laden world.
The problem is, if the great minds of our time can’t really predict rupa as simple as sand, what hope do I have of predicting complex systems like bodies, my body, and belongings, my belongings? With sand, there are too many factors, variables, to calculate in even a basic, contained, hourglass situation — the size of each grain, their texture, the way they fall and interact together– all you can do is flip the glass and see what happens. So how do I expect to have a leg-up in this world with ‘knowledge’ that guarantees me a particular outcome? How do I expect to have control of rupa — use it as a tool to prepare me, guard me, comfort me in this life — when I can’t even predict it. How can you control something you that can’t even be predicted?
When I strip away the illusion of control, of knowing, of being able to marshal resources to plot the direction of my life, I am left with the reality that I just need to flip the glass and see what happens. In a Dukka laden world that really is a terrifying prospect that only a fool would agree to.