Identity Crisis - Averted

A few months ago, I was reading an assignment for a Discovering Buddhism class. The text focused on the importance of wisdom and compassion in obtaining a  clean clear mind in order to minimize / escape cyclic suffering.

At that time, I felt the text was rather deep, esoteric, and focused on ideas for which I had no reference point for understanding. I admit, I had a few doubts about my decision to learn more about this philosophy.

Yet, I struggled on.... as I continued reading, I began to understand. We see the world through a filter of our own making. What I see as beautiful, you may see as a waste of canvas. What I think is deep and meaningful, you may see as trivial. And vice verse. The point being made was that the names we give things and what we believe them to be have no affect on the thing (reality) itself.

For example, if I remove the headlights from my car, is it still a car? How about if I remove the door handles? Or the seats? Or the tires?  Although the removal of each part changes that thing, making it a different thing, we continue to call it a car. How many parts have to be removed before we stop calling it a car?

Likewise, we see ourselves as unique and special butterflies. When I think of myself I think of this mind and this body in this place. If I change my name, will it change me or how my friends perceive me? What if I lose a finger? Would I be the same person to myself and my friends? An arm, a leg, an ear? When would I stop being that person I know as Glenn? What if I lost my job, my condo, my car? Would those unfortunate events change me - of course they would, and yet I would continue to cling to the idea of my unchangeable uniqueness. By not accepting the reality of change, I would only amplify my suffering by longing for things that are no longer there.

Scared, alone, trying to get home...

I had an opportunity to test this recently. By my own fault I lost my wallet at a movie theater. Upon arriving home and realizing my mistake, I immediately called the theater and returned to look for it, but the theater was full of people and I did not see it where I had left it. The next morning I returned before the first show and again searched under the seats, behind the curtains, in the trash receptacles, and the parking lot to no avail.

This was the first time in my adult life that I was without proper ID or access to money. I remembered the reading above, and thought that perhaps in the eyes of the law, I could no longer prove my identity or worth. Should I be stopped for a traffic violation or need to cash a check, I had no means of proving who I was. But did I need to prove who I was to those who know me or to myself? Was I changed by this inconvenience? Maybe, maybe not.

Two weeks later, as each piece of my identity arrives in the mail, I feel relief that I no longer have to carry my passport to the grocery store in order to write a check. More importantly I am happy that by remembering calmness, focusing on the moment, taking action, and resisting the urge to be angry, scared, or take my place on the cross of martyrdom, I was able to put into practice something that seemed so foreign just a few months ago.

Namaste!