More About Failure
Jul. 13th, 2005 04:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
forsyth(Continuing, basically, from here, which is a loosely fictionalized series of conversations between me and a buddha. It bears about as much resemblance to reality as most webcomics with the author's friends as the cast. Which, basically means I'm not telling.)
Things had gone quiet for a little while. Because I wasn't talking, and the buddha was sitting there, with the smug patience of somebody who's seen this movie before. He probably wasn't trying to be irritating, which made it more irritating. You know the kind of mood I mean. And if I called him on it, he'd probably say something about infinite compassion interpreted through the flawed lenses of the senses or whatever. Or I was in a funk. And tired.
I moved some of the piled up clothes to the end of the bed, rather than getting hangers or any of that crap. They're the "not really dirty, but too lazy to hang up" pile, after all. Then I took the Magic cards outside and put them in my trunk, so I'd have them there the next time I went to play somewhere. The buddha declined to go along, and I didn't invite him, so that worked out well. He was still in my chair when I got back, though. "Okay," I said, after I flopped down on the open space on my bed, "I need something else to call you, besides "the buddha", 'cause every time I do that, I picture this little slightly chubby bald Indian guy. And it's too confusing with the capital non-capital letters thing."
"Your language isn't set up very well for the metaphysics of non-self and malleable incarnations," he said.
"It can get by, but you have to use words in special meanings, which confuses the hell out of people who aren't thinking in that paradigm, or don't know the meanings of the technical terms. And then there's some that's just incredibly vague, like Mind. What the hell IS mind, anyway?"
"A false distinction."
"I'm not gonna call you Steve. Or Frank. Since I know people with those names. And Bob's out, 'cause Bob the Buddha sounds like a PBS kids show. Beeblebrox would work, if I was certain enough of how to pronounce it. You don't seem like an Arthur. Maybe I should do the bash my hand on the keyboard thing to make a name."
"Any name you bestow will not change the fundamental nature of things. It's just something to assist your interpretation."
"I'm lazy, I like to make things easier for me. And I'm stalling for time, because I'm already grumpy."
He stayed silent, which was probably less cosmic wisdom than basic people skills. "I dunno," I said, "Every name I think of has meanings attached that don't fit. They'd morph to fit, eventually, but. So, fine, you want to talk about failure? Fine, let's, I've got plenty of experience with it."
That sure seemed to come out more bitter than I planned. "Yet, you don't seem very practiced with dealing with it."
"Oh, what, I should be happy I screwed up?" I stood up and hopped around in mock cheer, "Hurray! I screwed up totally! I completely failed at what I was doing! Oooh, I know, I can learn from this, and the lesson is don't be a screwup! Wow! Hey, what an insight! If I don't make mistakes, I won't fail! If I don't act like an idiot, I won't ruin things! Wow! How deep!"
He shook his head, his hair flopping around. It didn't look like a halo or anything, just hair. "Some say that everything happens to teach us something. I know you don't believe that, so save your protests. Regardless, you can learn from failure, and it's only when you don't that it becomes worthless."
I flopped back on the bed. "Yeah, great. More cliches. Those don't do a damn thing to make me feel better, you know."
He nodded. "Of course. That's one of the reasons for the koans and other things, because they're supposed to make you think, and realize things, rather than being brushed off as 'just another cliche'."
"Maybe, but they're cliches now too. Maybe words just aren't good at some things, at least all the time. Different ones work for different people, I guess. So."
"So indeed," he said, "Is there any way to do this without sounding like a psychologist?"
"I could just talk, I guess, but I hate talking about me. I'm boring, and it tends to get repetitive with the 'and then I screwed up, and it went to poop."
"Always?"
"Well, sometimes there's the 'And then I screwed up, screwed up, and screwed up, and THEN it went to poop.' Or the ever-popular 'And then I gave up because I was going to screw up and go all to poop.'"
"Failure is transitory and fleeting, like everything in this illusion of life. Except for nothing, which we all are."
"What's the difference between Buddhism and nihilism again? So what, is Karma just memory then, since a lot of the time, the things you remember and regret and weigh on you are things nobody else would remember or care about?"
"You could look at it that way. It wouldn't be accurate, but you could. If you let go your concern for this world of becoming, failure wouldn't bother you."
"Gee, thanks, Yoda," I said, "That's right up there in Worst Screen Advice Ever. 'Caring stop, and hurt you won't be.' Little green idiot. Besides, even if I believed that, it wouldn't make things easier, or failure less scary. Especially when it's something stupid that shouldn't matter."
"Like Magic."
"Yes, like Magic. I should have done better than that, and now I don't care so much. Because I keep finding out I'm not as good as I should be. Or at least I think I should be."
"Practice would seem to be in order, rather than just giving up."
"Easier to say than do," I said, "Because if you try there's the chance of failure."
"And if you don't, it's certain."
"Enough with the cliches already, geeze. They don't get any less annoying the more you use them. Even if they are basically true. Yeah, I know, I'm the one always saying 'Just ask, the worst they can say is no,' so this is kinda hypocritical, or something of me. So."
"The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."
"No, it's mostly the spirit. And that was just to annoy me, wasn't it?"
"It seems to motivate you."
"Feh," I said, "Feh I say. It's not that easy anyway, the whole college thing and everything else. Of course, when I try and do something random that I figure I can do well, to build up the ego and all, I either screw it up like I did with Magic, or I convince myself it doesn't matter, because it's random. So that tends not to work."
"Well, you could always get a date."
"Yeah, right," I said, but he was already gone. I don't think he does the Batman thing, I bet he cheats with magic or something.
Previously, on X-Men:
Stories from the Rabbit Hole
Stories from the Rabbit Hole, Part 2
There's a Buddha on My Bed
A Discussion of Procrastination and Buddhism
Buddhablog
Haven't Seen Him in a While
The Illusion of Pain
Stuff that Binds
The Joy of Scrubdom
Technorati Tags: Mindscribbles, Rabbit Hole, Magic
Things had gone quiet for a little while. Because I wasn't talking, and the buddha was sitting there, with the smug patience of somebody who's seen this movie before. He probably wasn't trying to be irritating, which made it more irritating. You know the kind of mood I mean. And if I called him on it, he'd probably say something about infinite compassion interpreted through the flawed lenses of the senses or whatever. Or I was in a funk. And tired.
I moved some of the piled up clothes to the end of the bed, rather than getting hangers or any of that crap. They're the "not really dirty, but too lazy to hang up" pile, after all. Then I took the Magic cards outside and put them in my trunk, so I'd have them there the next time I went to play somewhere. The buddha declined to go along, and I didn't invite him, so that worked out well. He was still in my chair when I got back, though. "Okay," I said, after I flopped down on the open space on my bed, "I need something else to call you, besides "the buddha", 'cause every time I do that, I picture this little slightly chubby bald Indian guy. And it's too confusing with the capital non-capital letters thing."
"Your language isn't set up very well for the metaphysics of non-self and malleable incarnations," he said.
"It can get by, but you have to use words in special meanings, which confuses the hell out of people who aren't thinking in that paradigm, or don't know the meanings of the technical terms. And then there's some that's just incredibly vague, like Mind. What the hell IS mind, anyway?"
"A false distinction."
"I'm not gonna call you Steve. Or Frank. Since I know people with those names. And Bob's out, 'cause Bob the Buddha sounds like a PBS kids show. Beeblebrox would work, if I was certain enough of how to pronounce it. You don't seem like an Arthur. Maybe I should do the bash my hand on the keyboard thing to make a name."
"Any name you bestow will not change the fundamental nature of things. It's just something to assist your interpretation."
"I'm lazy, I like to make things easier for me. And I'm stalling for time, because I'm already grumpy."
He stayed silent, which was probably less cosmic wisdom than basic people skills. "I dunno," I said, "Every name I think of has meanings attached that don't fit. They'd morph to fit, eventually, but. So, fine, you want to talk about failure? Fine, let's, I've got plenty of experience with it."
That sure seemed to come out more bitter than I planned. "Yet, you don't seem very practiced with dealing with it."
"Oh, what, I should be happy I screwed up?" I stood up and hopped around in mock cheer, "Hurray! I screwed up totally! I completely failed at what I was doing! Oooh, I know, I can learn from this, and the lesson is don't be a screwup! Wow! Hey, what an insight! If I don't make mistakes, I won't fail! If I don't act like an idiot, I won't ruin things! Wow! How deep!"
He shook his head, his hair flopping around. It didn't look like a halo or anything, just hair. "Some say that everything happens to teach us something. I know you don't believe that, so save your protests. Regardless, you can learn from failure, and it's only when you don't that it becomes worthless."
I flopped back on the bed. "Yeah, great. More cliches. Those don't do a damn thing to make me feel better, you know."
He nodded. "Of course. That's one of the reasons for the koans and other things, because they're supposed to make you think, and realize things, rather than being brushed off as 'just another cliche'."
"Maybe, but they're cliches now too. Maybe words just aren't good at some things, at least all the time. Different ones work for different people, I guess. So."
"So indeed," he said, "Is there any way to do this without sounding like a psychologist?"
"I could just talk, I guess, but I hate talking about me. I'm boring, and it tends to get repetitive with the 'and then I screwed up, and it went to poop."
"Always?"
"Well, sometimes there's the 'And then I screwed up, screwed up, and screwed up, and THEN it went to poop.' Or the ever-popular 'And then I gave up because I was going to screw up and go all to poop.'"
"Failure is transitory and fleeting, like everything in this illusion of life. Except for nothing, which we all are."
"What's the difference between Buddhism and nihilism again? So what, is Karma just memory then, since a lot of the time, the things you remember and regret and weigh on you are things nobody else would remember or care about?"
"You could look at it that way. It wouldn't be accurate, but you could. If you let go your concern for this world of becoming, failure wouldn't bother you."
"Gee, thanks, Yoda," I said, "That's right up there in Worst Screen Advice Ever. 'Caring stop, and hurt you won't be.' Little green idiot. Besides, even if I believed that, it wouldn't make things easier, or failure less scary. Especially when it's something stupid that shouldn't matter."
"Like Magic."
"Yes, like Magic. I should have done better than that, and now I don't care so much. Because I keep finding out I'm not as good as I should be. Or at least I think I should be."
"Practice would seem to be in order, rather than just giving up."
"Easier to say than do," I said, "Because if you try there's the chance of failure."
"And if you don't, it's certain."
"Enough with the cliches already, geeze. They don't get any less annoying the more you use them. Even if they are basically true. Yeah, I know, I'm the one always saying 'Just ask, the worst they can say is no,' so this is kinda hypocritical, or something of me. So."
"The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."
"No, it's mostly the spirit. And that was just to annoy me, wasn't it?"
"It seems to motivate you."
"Feh," I said, "Feh I say. It's not that easy anyway, the whole college thing and everything else. Of course, when I try and do something random that I figure I can do well, to build up the ego and all, I either screw it up like I did with Magic, or I convince myself it doesn't matter, because it's random. So that tends not to work."
"Well, you could always get a date."
"Yeah, right," I said, but he was already gone. I don't think he does the Batman thing, I bet he cheats with magic or something.
Previously, on X-Men:
Stories from the Rabbit Hole
Stories from the Rabbit Hole, Part 2
There's a Buddha on My Bed
A Discussion of Procrastination and Buddhism
Buddhablog
Haven't Seen Him in a While
The Illusion of Pain
Stuff that Binds
The Joy of Scrubdom
Technorati Tags: Mindscribbles, Rabbit Hole, Magic
