Watcher, Observer, Patient, Butler.

In my own daily Practice to maintain a balanced mind so that I do not react to what flows in and out of my life, I have become aware of how taking on various personal identities leads to various forms of suffering.  Be it father, son, teacher, leader, writer, American, Seahawk fan, meditator, Democrat, or just a guy; these roles can create loss, disappointment, distress, and discontent. 

Am I suggesting disavowing and rejecting all such roles in our lives?  Not at all.  But to see these things as they really are; ephemeral, transient, and passing.  As the observer, we allow these things to come into our lives and then let go and allow them to flow through. 

Becoming attached or clingy to any title or accomplishment not only creates tension for us but also blocks the joy of the moment as we experience these relations.   We don’t have to go far to see examples of people personally suffering in the loss of an identity or relation they have enjoyed for a period of time in their lives.  From childhood Hollywood stars to NFL players, people become lost in their identities when they are gone.

Chronic illness and aging also brings us face to face with this dilemma for defining who we are and letting go of the illusions.  My greatest peace comes in those moments of letting go of various personal identities and peeling off the layers of self and becoming selfless.  These are the times when I find joy in the joy of others and compassion for those struggling around me and a quiet happiness.

How is this possible?  I suspect that it is the letting go of ego and not needing to prove anything.  Those identities lose their importance as being central and a shift in focus and energy takes place.  Maybe that is why babies and puppies are so fun to be around.  They really don’t care who I am.  And for the moment, neither do I. 

So let’s have fun with our various identities.  I have become an ardent fan of the TV series Downton Abbey.  And with my new identity as “fan”, I have observed the role of a Butler.  Well now, I must be pretty important because I realized that I too have a Butler; my wife.  Please don’t tell her I said that.  I doubt if she would appreciate the title.  But I do express daily, many times my appreciation for what she has to do to keep me biologically up and running. 

Because of prolong periods of sitting that I do; Beth as a caretaker, has the distinct role of keeping the skin soft and not allowing heat rashes to form.  This has required, after showering, the application of skin creams to vulnerable pressure points. 

I now visit an infection Specialist that is determined to avert any sores from developing which could become “very dangerous.”  So here I am, lying on my side in an examination room with the doctor, two female nurses and my wife checking out the overall health of my “backside”. 

This is a follow-up visit and the doctor seems to be pretty excited to see the improvement in the skin with the use of the cream applied by my dear wife.  He tries to get my wife to come see the change.  In his strong Chinese accent he says, “Come! Come look at his butt.”  To which my wife responds, “I don’t need to see his butt.  I look at his butt every day.”  And the room erupts in laughter. 

At times, as hard as I try, I can’t seem to avoid being the butt of someone else’s jokes.  But hey, it comes with the territory; especially when your wife is your own Butt-ler, errrr Butler.  Yet all these identities will pass away; patient, sickness, humorist, writer, butler.  For life itself is constantly changing and unfolding.  Life is impermanent.