Same as February last year, I went to the bank – with wary reluctance, mind you – to add funds which could last me until about November-ish. Unlike last February, there isn't a problem anticipated about the funds coming through, and unlike last February I didn't fall into a pit of squirming self-loathing regarding adding funds to survive instead of just facing the looming end of finances.
I think part of that self-loathing was borne out of the frustration of making the humiliating attempt to add finances and being told it might not go through because of the defective instrument. This time no defect, no problem anticipated, no frustration, ergo no self-loathing. But I also feel something else that helped fuel the self-loathing back then is different now, and does relate to recent posts about how I should be feeling now and what I should be doing.
I don't think I'm taking a lax attitude about continuing to exist or being comfortable about being here. I've established that these existential quandaries need to be bothering me front and center on a constant basis (even today, from my reading jumped out, "You understand that the time of death is uncertain, death comes quickly, change happens rapidly, and there is no time to waste" - Gampopa, Confusion Arises as Wisdom, p. 205). Maybe I've only found that I can't joke about it. But my finances keep getting extended. They got extended, obviously, after that bank failure last February. And it's alright for me to be alright with that. Finances aren't my great corrupter. They just enable dysfunction. Finances aren't the problem. You probably could've told me that.
Fine, all my past patterns indicate that I'll cruise along as usual until November. And then I have several more presumably non-defective instruments and all my past patterns indicate that I will continue to extend my finances as long as they're available. And it's alright for me to be alright with that.
The difference from before is having added into my awareness and mindfulness practice how suddenly things can turn. And I shouldn't let what all my past patterns indicate become cynical resignation to what will definitely happen. Even if they forecast what probably will happen, I need to navigate every section of time on its own merits of causes and conditions and contemplate whether it's finally my turn. Mindfulness zooms into moments and details, pixelating them, and stops time and feelings and all the old existential questions well up in new ways and dimensions.
And quite frankly, I think my practice – mindfulness practice with Vajrayana influences – has been becoming something that makes my existence at least worth something to me. That is to say if I happen to keep being able to live, practice is a reason to not feel so bad about it. It's no change of direction or reason to live. It may even help towards my goal as realizations, inspirations and even experience of the nature of reality align with them. It's good stuff. It's down the rabbit hole. But even I will stop short of the suggestion that practice can be a way towards suicide. It's not. But the more I write about it, the messier it'll get so I'll just leave it at that.
I don't think I'm taking a lax attitude about continuing to exist or being comfortable about being here. I've established that these existential quandaries need to be bothering me front and center on a constant basis (even today, from my reading jumped out, "You understand that the time of death is uncertain, death comes quickly, change happens rapidly, and there is no time to waste" - Gampopa, Confusion Arises as Wisdom, p. 205). Maybe I've only found that I can't joke about it. But my finances keep getting extended. They got extended, obviously, after that bank failure last February. And it's alright for me to be alright with that. Finances aren't my great corrupter. They just enable dysfunction. Finances aren't the problem. You probably could've told me that.
Fine, all my past patterns indicate that I'll cruise along as usual until November. And then I have several more presumably non-defective instruments and all my past patterns indicate that I will continue to extend my finances as long as they're available. And it's alright for me to be alright with that.
The difference from before is having added into my awareness and mindfulness practice how suddenly things can turn. And I shouldn't let what all my past patterns indicate become cynical resignation to what will definitely happen. Even if they forecast what probably will happen, I need to navigate every section of time on its own merits of causes and conditions and contemplate whether it's finally my turn. Mindfulness zooms into moments and details, pixelating them, and stops time and feelings and all the old existential questions well up in new ways and dimensions.
And quite frankly, I think my practice – mindfulness practice with Vajrayana influences – has been becoming something that makes my existence at least worth something to me. That is to say if I happen to keep being able to live, practice is a reason to not feel so bad about it. It's no change of direction or reason to live. It may even help towards my goal as realizations, inspirations and even experience of the nature of reality align with them. It's good stuff. It's down the rabbit hole. But even I will stop short of the suggestion that practice can be a way towards suicide. It's not. But the more I write about it, the messier it'll get so I'll just leave it at that.
