On iPads and Earthquakes, Desire and Impermanence

I confess to being somewhat swept up in the recent media frenzy over the new iPad 2. Sure, I already have the original version (which incidentally has more computing power than the Apollo 11 and does everything I want it to) but now there’s something better available, and I even have the choice to get it in white. If I want to.

On Friday, while many of us here in the United States were swept away by the promise of a new, shinier and more powerful iPad, in Japan hundreds of people were being swept away by waves that resulted from a powerful tsunami that was caused by a devastating earthquake. 

You wouldn’t know that anything was awry anywhere in the world if you were at 10th Avenue and 18th Street where a huge line of people wrapped around 9 blocks-- and one full hour before the new tablet even went on sale. 

Sometimes our view of life is so narrow that we really can’t see past the person right in front of us on the insanely long Apple store line. Sometimes the only way we can relate to our lives is to cram them with gadgets or people or distractions that we think will somehow alleviate the underlying sense of off-ness and unease that permeates a lot of our day to day experience. And sometimes we think that if we stick our heads in the sand and just accumulate lots of good stuff and good feelings, we’ll have some solid ground to stand on and everything will be just fine. 

There’s nothing wrong with wanting nice things or having pleasant experiences. I’m still getting an iPad once the hysteria dies down and I won’t be expected to stand in line for more than a few minutes. But the events of this past weekend are a good reminder that all things have built within them the seeds of their own demise. 

The instant that a new gadget is rolled off the assembly line, the process of deterioration is already at work. The moment we’re born, our bodies are already beginning the process of aging and death. This goes for houses and buildings and towns and cities and this whole planet. Realizing this doesn’t have to be discouraging or depressing--rather it can help us appreciate what we have when we have it and to see how precious and tenuous our lives are. 

This world we live in is constantly offering us the opportunity to understand and witness the reality of impermanence,  but somehow our natural inclination is to deny this and distract ourselves until we’re completely disengaged from our own lives and the true nature of things. 

While many people in this country are waiting to get an iPad, thousands in Japan are waiting for the bare essentials like food and water. Let’s be mindful of that and not squander our lives. Please continue to offer tonglen practice to everyone affected by this tragedy.