De-Constructing the Greed Experience

One of my favorite moments is to linger in the hot tub at the YMCA after a long swim. Yesterday, with my mind on break, and eyes closed, all I could feel was the delightful pressure of the jets against my back, and the joyful sounds of women chatting. A most pleasurable state indeed, very much to my liking. I also noticed how protective I became of 'my' space, right in front of most powerful jet . . . and then the slight tension that followed in my upper chest. 

Turning to Ayya Khema, one more time - from Who Is My Self?:

"We can look at the mind and see its four aspects . . . In doing this, we will come nearer to the understanding that in fact there is nobody who owns it. The first aspect is "sense-consciousness", the five senses: seeing, hearing, tasting, touching, and smelling. The second aspect is feeling, which arises from sense-contact. This feeling is either pleasant, unpleasant, neutral. The third is perception, which can also be called labeling. For example, when the feeling is unpleasant, the label is "pain". The fourth is mental formation, or reaction. If the mind had said "pain", the reaction is usually "I don't like it", or "I've got to get away from this." It is very useful at this stage in our practice to become clearly aware of these four aspects of mind and of how they follow each other as cause and effect: sense-contact, feeling, perception, and lastly reaction. It is important to get to know this sequence, both during meditation and in our every day life. The Buddha taught that it is through an awareness of these four parts of mind, through the knowledge and vision of the understood experience, that we come to the realization that there is nothing at all within them than constitutes a "me". The "me" is a thought, an idea . . . 

This "me," however, is not only an idea, it is also the mechanism that produces greed and hate. We all know these two; they come very easily to us. We all live with them and are familiar with them, but they do not produce happiness. In our practice we need to examine . . . the four parts of mind and how they arise and cease. We can become aware of each sense-contact-a taste, a smell- and how such contact leads to the next step, feeling-pleasant, unpleasant, neutral-and so on.

Most people are only aware of the first and the last step, the sense-contact and the reaction: "It looks nice, I want it", or "It looks awful, I must get rid of it." The reaction follows so quickly that we miss out completely on the two intervening stages. We should practice in the following way: Having noticed our reaction, we go back to the sense-contact that led to it. We then try to become aware again of the feeling that followed the sense-contact, and then of the mind's explanation (dirty, disgusting, delicious, boring). Notice these two missing parts, the feeling and the label. Now, within these four parts - sense-contact, feeling, perception, reaction - try to find the one who senses, feels, perceives, reacts. The mind says, "But its' me doing that," but this is only an idea. Where is the doer? We can actually notice that these four steps are an automatic progression, that there is no one "doing" anything. It all just happens and we can watch it happen.

We can also decide to stop the sequence at any of the four points, particularly at the perception, the labeling. Then we will notice that we are not compelled to react. As we do this, however, the mind will say: "Surely I must be the one who made that decision, who determined to do that." You can now try to find that one. There is only determination, which is a mental factor. It is essential to investigate this not once, but many times. Within these khandhas, these aggregates, lies the illusion. One person will say the determination came from their thinking, another that it came from their feeling, someone else will say: "It was the observer" or "It was my willpower" Then we need to ask ourselves if any of these can really be called "me". Where is that "me" when none of these reactions are taking place, when there is no observer, no willpower, nothing like that going on at all? When any one of these supposed "me's" is not functioning, where is it? What is it doing?"

De-constructing the hot tub experience that way, I can clearly see the sequence: 

sense contact of touch between high pressure water and back -> pleasant feeling -> delightful perception/label -> liking reaction -> greed 

and I how I got in trouble the minute mind engaged in second and fourth step, as it always does, automatically, if left on its own.  

Transport in Sainte-Chapelle

Several years in a row, I tried to get into Sainte-Chapelle, and got discouraged by the long lines. This time, we were able to get in no problem, thanks to tickets for an evening of classical music in the place. Never before, had I seen such a beautiful church. A real jewel, made to delight the eyes with its luminous rose and all around spectacular display of tall stained glass windows.

The best was yet to come after we sat down, and were treated to the auditory feast of Vivaldi's Four Seasons, played by a talented group of French musicians. So much pleasure, and also the happiness of sitting next to Prad and our daughters, all sharing that same delight with me. I thought to myself, this is as good as life can get.

And very quickly, the realization of the impossibility of holding so much gladness forever. With the high, a down was to be expected. The concert would end, and we would have to leave this heavenly setting. Even if the experience were to be prolonged, boredom would inevitably set in eventually, and with it unsatisfactoriness, and the desire to change. No matter what, suffering was involved.

From Ayya Khema, in Who Is My Self?:

When we become aware of something pleasant, we should immediately look at tis unpleasant features, and through this, too, we arouse equanimity, and do not become immersed in desire. The unpleasant feature of anything pleasant is its impermanence. We need to bear this in mind. Most people think they are quite aware of impermanence, quite accepting of it, but in fact they would much rather forget it, and constantly do so. But we should always remember that everything with which we come into contact is impermanent. Every single moment of our lives, pleasant or unpleasant, is one moment in eternity. In order to counteract greed or desiring what is pleasurable, we recognize the impermanence  of that pleasure.

Allowing myself to be transported by the experience, en connaissance de cause. :)

Meditation in Saint-Sulpice

Following up on yesterday's resolution, I went to Saint-Sulpice to meditate. Prad came with me. We picked seats in the back row of one of the side chapels where it was most quiet. And bowed to each other, and started to sit, eyes closed in the sticky warmth. 

For a second, I wondered, did I know how to do this, still? That's how disconnected I felt. Staying with the feeling, and the buzzing energy, I found my way in, back to myself, very quickly though. All of it. Breath, sensations in the body, thoughts, emotions, hearing, smelling, touching, all the contact experiences between senses and the outside, . . . Soon, the incense, the steps and the whispers from tourists started to recede. There was no longer emotions, pleasant or unpleasant, nor thoughts. I had found my center, again. Right at the edge of the deep water well, where breath becomes so subtle and sweet. And was reminded of time passing, by the sound of Christian hymns coming afar, from the main altar, and signaling the start of the seven o'clock mass. Opened my eyes, and turned towards Prad, touching his right arm, softly. 

Out of the church, we walked, feeling anew.

Sitting meditation. Such a gift to self. I just wonder about the people who do not meditate, and how they must feel. I think once one has tasted from the pure water of stillness, it is almost impossible to not want it again. 

6 Tips for the Buddhist Traveler

Feeling the toll from a week in Paris, with hardly any time to be still. Friends and family to visit, exhibits to see, events to attend, restaurants to go to . . . I could not say no. Until this morning, when I  found myself speaking and acting out of mindless, reactive place.  

This passage through the temporary hell of mindlessness has taught me a few things for the rest of the trip, and for future trips as well:

1. I need to recognize the challenge of practicing without the support of my usual Sangha. Not  benefiting from the support of weekly Dharma talks, group sittings, and conversations with other members in the community.
2. I need to not underestimate the power of typical vacation environment that fosters idle talk, sensory stimulation, greed, and an overall lack of awareness.
3. Formal daily meditation practice is a necessity, not an option. Without the ability to recharge from the deep well within, the mind becomes unsettled, and unable to function well.  
4. The fact that I am not in my usual, home environment is no excuse. Churches, other places of worship are great places to meditate, in the absence of a personal quiet place to retreat to. 
5. Reading a good Dharma book, staying connected to spiritual friends online, can compensate somewhat for lack of physical Sangha. 
6. Slow vacationing needs not be an oxymoron. While the temptation is great to want to pack in experiences, giving into too many activities makes it impossible to be mindful.

Today, I shall sit 30' in the Saint-Germain des Pres church before we head out to dinner. I shall take the time to walk slowly, mindfully in the neighborhood. And I will read some more of Ayya Khema's book. 

Malaise at Beaubourg

During my days as a conceptual artist, I used to enjoy contemporary art. A lot.

What a difference a few years can make . . . 

Yesterday during my visit of the elles@centrepompidou collection on the 4th floor  of the Centre Pompidou Museum, I felt a sudden urge to flee. A strong aversion to the so called works of art from contemporary women artists, bombarding me with their messages of angry, depressed, arrogant, cold feminism. Culminating with Betty Tompkins's Fuck Painting, a black and white photorealistic closeup of heterosexual intercourse, on a 7 by 5 feet canvas. And Sigalit Landau's Sado Hula's masochistic video performance of herself with a barbed wire hula hoop.

Not even Niki de Saint Phalle's fantastic Crucifixion could save the show . . .

Last night, I dreamed of a woman artist who was dying of brain cancer.

Temptations on Rue Dauphine

Every day, as I walk out of our hotel, on rue Dauphine, temptations await in the form of Desigual dresses and fancy sandals, and purses on sale for 60% off. I have sworn I will not buy anything during this trip. Now, I find my resolution waning.

I am reminded of the story about the Dalai Lama, driving down Fifth Avenue during Christmas, and being awed, and tempted by all the goods displayed in the store windows. And laughing about it . . . 

The Dalai Lama's human-ness serves to show me the difference between feeling the craving, and indulging it. It is actually quite an interesting process. Getting in touch with the unpleasantness, the physical tug at the throat, the frazzled energy that besiege me as I dwell in the wanting. And then imagining the temporary high from buying the Desigual dress, and the letdown that will follow. 

Revisiting my notes from earlier retreat with  Andrea Fella two months ago, particularly her talk on the Second Noble Truth:

When we get what we want, we get a double hit of pleasantness:

1) getting what we want

2) having pain of wanting go away

We start to believe the only way to get happiness is to get what we want combined with release of the wanting. As the pleasure of the satisfied craving fades away, we want more of same thing, or we create more wants. This is a perpetual cycle.

. . .

The Buddha recognized this was not very satisfying, and that a deeper happiness resulted from letting go of the craving. This requires a leap of faith. There are lots of opportunities for testing this out . . . Of getting in touch with feelings of wanting, and the experience of unpleasantness associated with wanting itself. Realizing that wanting is dependent on causes. Also seeing that feeling of wanting eventually disappears, and leads to feeling of satisfaction. This can get tricky, as when we start looking for, wanting moment when wanting disappear. It is not about getting rid of wanting, but instead understanding it, and as we do, it will let go of itself.

Using every moment as opportunity to practice. Forsaking the indulgence of small cravings for the chance to experience real, unconditioned happiness.

This Is Temporary

This afternoon, I basked in the pleasure of a perfect moment with my daughter at Bertillon, Paris's famous place for sorbets and ice cream. Lingering over the different flavors, and hesitating between wild strawberry or rasperry with rose flower, peach or pear, black currant or dark cocoa . . . ? Gustative faculties fully mobilized, she and I settled the matter with a full order of four different flavors each.

Between shared laughter and two spoonfuls of wild strawberry sorbet, all of a sudden the thought, 'this is temporary', and the subtle joy of being ok with the full reality of passing happiness. Ajahn Chah's "not sure" wisdom . . . this time applied to an endearing moment.