All Things Being Equal

I’m attracted to Buddhism. I go to a meeting once a week that is Buddhist-inspired. I’m familiar with The Four Noble Truths, The Eightfold Path, and The Five Precepts. I practice two different Buddhist meditations–somewhat.

Even so, I wouldn’t call myself a student or a practitioner. I fantasize about going on a long silent retreat, but I’m pretty sure, because I have little verbal restraint, I would be the first person asked to leave. It has been decades since I was able to sit on the ground with my legs crossed. Thankfully, I’ve been able to investigate Buddhism at my own pace and adopt, however awkwardly, the dharma (teachings) in such a way that it has had a significant impact on my life. On a side-note, I was almost hired by Macy’s to play an older, more substantial Siddartha for an ad campaign that ended up being canceled when they realized that retail marketing and non-attachment didn’t play well together.

One of the concepts that I’ve had a hard time grasping is equanimity. For several years, I treated the idea like a porcupine in a fighting stance. I would see it, fear it, and run. I was able to do this in much the way I fear other things, utilizing misunderstanding along with a value-added dose of non-investigation.

In the last days of December, my daughter told me she was going to participate in a “Hard Seventy-Five.” I was hoping this wasn’t about her going to prison. I was relieved when she explained that it was a very disciplined seventy-five days of diet and exercise that would change her way of being in the world in a deep and lasting way.

I thought that would be great and I signed on! Since the new year was just a few days away, we decided that it was an auspicious day to start. I lasted two days. I have reached a point in my life where this kind of failure doesn’t bother me as much. I am less informed by Tony Robbins and more inspired by Doris Day–Que Sera Sera.

(Just like a great Indiana Jones adventure, while we can’t see the point I’m trying to make, we must have faith that it is only a matter of grit and determination and we can be assured that it is in our near future. We also have to have Karen Allen’s medallion. The good news is that I’m at my daughter's house in Snohomish, so I can order it from Amazon with same-day shipping.)

Back to the Hard Seventy-five. While a few of the guardrails were compulsory, it was suggested that we add a few of our own. One of mine was that I would stop using Facebook and cease looking at the news because I’m a doom-scroller. I was able to stick with that through the third week of February.

Like all good addictions, I only needed one good rationalization to find my way back to the opium den. The catchphrase that allowed me entry past the heavily guarded door is as follows: I must be informed. I thought that I was missing vital information that I wouldn’t be able to get any other way.

It is a seductive thought. It seems so reasonable and responsible. I heard the whisper, “Just look at it for five minutes in the morning, and then don’t look at it anymore for the rest of the day!” That would be reasonable and responsible. I could have a basic understanding of the collapse of democracy, wish happy birthday to the appropriate friends and family, and look at my FB memories.

But that’s not the way addiction works. Because it isn’t about knowing what’s going on; it’s about releasing cortisol and dopamine. One might pose the question, “I can see why you would want dopamine, who wouldn’t? But why on earth would you go looking for cortisol?” The answer for the addict is that I will take anything that makes me feel different from the way I am currently feeling. If you think that doesn’t make sense, you’re right. If you think that does make sense, perhaps I’ll see you at a meeting.

Alright, I’m ready to get back to equanimity. Yesterday morning, I woke up at 3:30 a.m. Because I had broken my fast from the news and Facebook, I was able to look at both of them for hours before I had my usual morning call with my friend David. To say I was wound up by then would be an astute observation, if not a blatant understatement.

During those oh-so-important hours of scrolling, I experienced the following, in no particular order: fear, trepidation, joy, elation, sadness, anger, curiosity (is the Celestion Vintage 30 really better for Delta blues than the Celestion Classic Lead 80?), bewilderment, harsh judgment, and several other emotions that are currently under witness protection.

This is a normal reaction to my own practice of doom-scrolling, and the fact that I was figuratively laying in the gutter, grasping a wrinkled brown paper bag that was holding an empty bottle of Dr. Bronner’s Peppermint Schnapps also seemed normal. Cortisol and Dopamine were sitting at a table in the food court of my mind, having a lively discussion.

The moment this became clear was when I went to call David. I turned on my Bluetooth headphones and realized I had turned off the Bluetooth on my phone. I dutifully rectified that and waited in anticipation for the two to connect. One of the highlights of this technology is that I will find out to what percentage my headphones are charged. Oooohhhhh…

I had been using them quite a bit, so I expected them to be between forty and sixty percent charged. Get ready for disappointment and self-depreciation directed at my procrastinant ass for allowing this to happen. Instead, they were at one hundred percent, and I was ecstatic and congratulated myself on being a genius.

Looking at the news of the day and wandering through Facebook, I was of the opinion that having a series of wide-ranging emotions was reasonable. It had, in fact, normalized outrage and despair. The experience of having such large-scale ups and downs over my headphones was questionable.

And so we arrive at equanimity. My daughter took me aside (which wasn’t as easy as it sounds since we were driving at the time) and told me that since I started scrolling again, I had become less present and accessible. Psychopathic curmudgeon is the description that comes to mind.

I’ve been looking at definitions for equanimity this morning. Some from Webster’s, others in longer articles. I think I can sum it up with the exemplary advice from Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy–"Don’t Panic."

I’m not trying to reach a state of bliss or non-dualism. I want to have enough access to my feelings so that I can remain compassionate and empathetic. I just don’t want to have the turbulent seas of emotion capsize my little boat.

Conclusion–I can practice the Nancy Reagan Diet when it comes to news and social media–Just. Say. No.

“Hello, my name is Bryan. It’s been nine hours since I doomscrolled.” Admittedly, the six-and-a-half hours I was sleeping was the easy part, but I’m shameless when it comes to tallying my time. Wish me luck.

P.S. Equanimity - evenness of mind, especially under stress.