Lost Luggage, Gained Wisdom

A lost luggage, is all it took to show me the fragility of ordinary calmness.

At first, it was easy staying magnanimous. No suitcase showing up at Carrousel 30 at Charles de Gaulle airport was no reason to sweat it. I even joked with the baggage claim lady. My suitcase had not made it in the plane in San Francisco, but had been tracked by the Air France computer. It had been rerouted through Minneapolis, then Amsterdam, and was on its way to Paris. I was assured "It will be delivered later today or tomorrow morning at the latest. Just call this number to check."

Later that night, phone call to the Air France number was met with casual response. "It usually takes 24 hours." No problem, I told myself, it's only a suitcase, and I can wait an extra day. I washed my clothes in the sink, and was glad for the disposable toothbrush provided by Air France. 

The next morning, several phone calls, and the wait turned into 48 hours. My new hat and gloves, my two favorite pants, my precious pashmina shawl, I could not have, at least not until Air France got its act together. I made a quick run to H&M for an extra change of clothes. The suitcase was starting to take up a lot of place in my mind. I found myself getting restless and annoyed.

The day after, more phone calls, and still no luggage. From annoyed, I became frustrated and ranted at the Air France folks for not caring more. I had enough sense to realize the source. Attachment, attachment, attachment was the real cause of my upset. I could use this unpleasant occurrence to investigate the mind's trappings.  Wanting the comfort of being able to use my things as planned, and also mistakenly counting on the permanence of possessions. Both desires trampled by the reality of the lost suitcase.

By the third day it became clear, I better plan for the suitcase not showing up at all. I replaced my whole wardrobe. Some of the restlessness was still there, but not enough to spoil my time in Paris any longer. The mind was starting to relinquish its grasp on the idea of 'my suitcase'.

Six days later, the suitcase has not yet appeared. We are going back home tomorrow, and I have reconciled with the idea of my luggage lost maybe for good. Little time gets wasted thinking, agitating about the suitcase. A quick phone call to Air France this morning, that's all.

How much the mind adds to life's unavoidable unpleasantness!

Leigh Brasington, on Vedana

Every teacher, a different perspective on vedana. Here is Leigh's, as shared during the retreat - my notes:

Vedana is best translated as hedonic tone for all our experiences, either pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. It can also be described as initial categorization of sensory input. We only experience one type of vedana at a time. Sometimes it may seems as if both pleasantness and unpleasantness co-exist but that is an illusion due to the rapidly changing nature of vedana. As important as vedana is, the Buddha only gives us one practice for it, and that is to know the tone of the vedana we are experiencing. Vedana falls into two types:

1. Sensual vedana, from external sensory contact - the 5 senses.

2. Non sensual vedana, from mental sense - that is generated by mind.

We often miss the initial vedana from external sensory contact and go straight to perception, then thoughts and emotions (the mental proliferations) that are arising out of perception, and are in turn generating their own vedana, what is called vedana of the mind or downstream vedana. It all goes very quickly. 

It is important to practice with vedana, otherwise vedana will run us by the nose. Our culture is not helping, as it reinforces our natural inclination to pursue pleasure, avoid pain, and assume we will live forever. If we are not careful, we start craving pleasant vedana and the absence of unpleasant vedana. The trick is to not get caught into vedana. There is a gap between initial sensory vedana and craving, i.e. dukkha, and in that gap, mindfulness can intervene. Lots of the vedana we experience is downstream vedana. Our job is to intervene at the external sensory vedana level, rather than waiting for the downstream vedana. It goes like this:

1. External contact from object, sense organ, and sense consciousness coming together.

2. Mental categorization from initial sensory vedana into pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral. 

3. Perception, i.e. identification of what kind of contact, giving it a name.

4. Thoughts and emotions, lead to mental vedana.

We have control over perception, thoughts and emotions, and downstream vedana.

Vedana, it's so important! Whenever unpleasantness makes itself felt, I have learned to see it for what it is. A transient state, some of which I have control over, and the rest not at all. Same with pleasantness. And in each case, the potential for more unpleasantness, either from rejecting (the unpleasantness), or clinging (to the pleasantness).

Other teachers' perspective on vedana:

U Tejaniya

Ruth Denison

Ayya Khema