Post #39: The Crocodile

23 June 2023

My girlfriend threw a Thai folk saying at me the other day in an uncharacteristic moment of heated frustration: “The crocodile will thrash its tail!"—the idea being that the overgrown lizards behave in this unbecoming manner because they are unable to control their thoughts and feelings enough to keep them from turning into undesirable actions (the way good Buddhists are expected to do). Whether this regrettable state of affairs is cause for judgment or for compassion, or maybe both, remained a bit unclear; but the upshot was the troubling question what good the Teaching could possibly be doing me if I remain … such a crocodile.

She does not read my blog, or I could have referred her to several earlier posts—most of them really. But even on my end, it is making me ask myself, not for the first time, why I should keep up such an unconvincing pretense (my girlfriend’s choice of terms) and not give it up altogether, confessing to the world that I do not even amount to a poor Buddhist, but rather none at all. What still puzzles me, though, and keeps me from proclaiming my failure more forcefully, is what it would mean to make such a sorry declaration.

A crocodile in the wild would not be very well served, I suspect, if it gave up its habit of thrashing, but that is not really at issue. For as the civilized kind of croc living under all manner of social constraints, I am quite willing to admit that I could make myself and others better off by thrashing a lot less. Alas, the sad fact remains that whatever concessions I am prepared to make in principle, I continue to be a thrasher all the same, meditation or not, and I see no way to change shape. Perhaps I would indeed be a more attractive and happier creature if I could find a way to shed my crocodile skin, but it remains so firmly attached that no gentle separation seems possible to me, and I do not much care to cut it off violently (meaning, in this case, to resort to extreme repression).

It does not matter much, as I see the case, whether we should welcome the fact that there are still crocodiles in the world—terribly archaic and unsightly beasts that they are, not to mention the bad breath. I am not saying that being a throwback to saurian times is good, only that I happen to be one, whether I like it or not, scales, jaws, tail, and all. Nor am I talking about self-acceptance in the esteem-oriented sense of the word, merely acceptance of the plain facts. My girlfriend is in a relatively lucky position, it seems to me, not because I consider it such an unrivaled blessing to be staying with me, but simply because she gets a choice in the matter. I am the one who is stuck with me; she can leave any time she thinks she can do better.

Fine, you might say, so keep your scales and tail if you must, Mr Croc, but at least stop thrashing so wildly, please! I wish I could, but it really does not feel as if it were up to me. I don't know whether it is a matter of hereditary predisposition, upbringing, cultural factors, moral failure, or bad habits, but as things stand, even after years of doing what I could to steer in a different direction, I am convinced that I do not have the power to become that with others might like me to be, and what I might perhaps prefer myself if it were an option.

If you think otherwise, then kindly help me find the self that makes these choices one way or another, and tell me how to give it better instructions! “Follow the Teaching!” you may say and echo my girlfriend, though she is not a particularly avid practitioner herself. (I guess being Thai is enough, but the way to citizenship is long here, and anyway, it is too late for me to become properly Thai either.) Very well, I hear you, and I agree: the Teaching it is; that's why I keep dragging my seemingly hopeless case to the mat, day in day out, in addition to reminding myself, whenever I can remember, of the better way of the Dhamma. Go figure.

What would you have me do, pray-tell, if the admittedly paltry fruits of my practice don’t satisfy you? A minute ago you threw the Teaching at me; I accepted it gladly. Now are you going to tell me that I might as well quit because I am such a duffer at implementing it? And then what? Even if my current self looks insufferable beyond remedy to you, what if quitting would leave me even more obnoxious? Every bit counts, as the beggars say on the corner, and I must remind the reader of the Buddhism (if it deserves the name) that is at issue here, namely the meager not the lavish kind. (That the beggar’s phrase comes with a subtext that would often be rendered more accurately as “Come on you cheap bastard, give me a tenner already!” is another matter.) So that’s how it looks to me, but if you disagree and you are quite sure that I and the world would be made better off by my quitting for good, all I ask is that you please give it to me in writing. (Signing in blood would add some dramatic flair that would not go unnoticed.)

But I should be a better practitioner, you insist! I congratulate you on your discovery, as Marcus Aurelius liked to say. I could not agree more, friend, and I would only add for the record that we should all of us be better practitioners! For my part, I am pretty sure that I am doing what I can within the apparently very limited constraints of my ability. What about you? Have you done as much, by way of effort at least, though issuing in failure?

My girlfriend wasn’t wrong; she wasn't judging me either, just expressing her frustration and trying to help me practice a little more effectively, when she can see so very clearly up close how much I need it. Nor does she resent my thrashing, at least not in her normally placid mood; she feels a touching compassion, for which I can only express my gratitude and admiration. She also does an excellent job practicing patience and forbearance with me, and so perhaps we can keep walking the Path together after all, though on different sides—I the scaly beast on the mat, she one of the carefree birds that fly in and out of the terrible jaws without harm while knowing to stay clear of the thrashing tail.

Or would you, despite my protestations, prefer to see me off the Path after all? Remember: in writing, please, and if possible with a hefty cheque enclosed, since off the Path I would find my various poverties much harder to bear. To be sure, it would be quite wrong to expect material compensation for getting on the Path, as it is meant to be its own reward. But to get me off you would definitely have to pay me. My girlfriend hasn’t offered (so far), but you know where to find me if you should care to put your money where your mouth is. I am most curious to see how much it might be worth to you.