Does Instagram increase suffering?

The first truth of Buddhism is that suffering is inevitable. There's birth, old age, sickness, and death -- and Instagram. Actually, according to a New York Times article, "The  Agony of Instagram," the photo-sharing app is related to the Second Noble Truth, the cause of suffering.

Members of the Facebook generation are no strangers to the sensation of feeling a little left out when their friends post from that book party they weren’t invited to, or from someone’s latest transporting trip to the white sands of Tulum. Yet even for those familiar with the concept of social-media envy, Instagram — the highest achievement yet in social-media voyeurism — presents a new form of torture.

Instagram, with its various filters, allows people to post photos of their lives looking enviably

fabulous, the Times says -- creating dissatisfaction in people whose unfiltered lives are messier, less artistic. That dissatisfaction with our own lives and the belief that we'd be happy if only things were different is pretty much the definition of dukkha.

The Times reports that Fear of Missing Out, aka FOMO, or the anxiety and envy that arises from thinking everyone is having more fun than you, is a thing being looked at by researchers. Instagram is the biggest instigator, it says.

What to do, what to do? You could follow the path of renunciation and delete your Instagram account if it's that bothersome. Or use it train in mudita, joy in others' good fortune. Or transform the Instagram culture by posting affirmations.

Change your mind to change the world.

The impermanence of pets

Two weeks ago I was in a Google+ hangout, cat across my crossed legs, getting ready to meditate, and one of the other participants commented that it sounded like there was a tiger in the room. The cat's purring had gotten louder as her time grew shorter, so I moved her to another room.

That was, in fact, her last day; she purred -- loudly -- right up to the end as the tranquilizer the vet gave her took hold. We petted her head until her breathing stopped, and then a little more.

I always knew she would die before I was ready, knew that was part of her cat-ness. She would come into the room while I was meditating in the morning and squawk, then knead my legs before settling down. I was sometimes looking at her as I recited "Everyone who is born will die" and add,"yes, you."

I'm not, generally, scared by the prospect of my death. I am saddened by the idea that everyone who is born will die, and the cat is the least of it. As humans, we're driven by the desire to connect; we need to be seen and valued in order to develop. (A new study links childhood abuse and brain development in women.) Yet when connections become attachments, when we reify relationships or believe that our happiness depends on others, we suffer.

Suffering -- dukkha, which also gets translated as anxiety, stress, anguish, dissatisfaction -- is one of the marks of our human existence. Accepting that also shows us the sukkha, the sweet side, the joy, bliss, tender heart, boundless beauty. Knowing that everything passes makes it presence more precious.

I miss the cat, Moonshine. I keep expecting to see her in her usual spots. Our other cat seems to want me to find her. At dinnertime that cat, Peeka, stands at the top of the stairs and squeaks with a "Timmy's-in-the-well" urgency. I follow her downstairs, and she circles aimlessly while I point out that I have given her food already -- just look in the bowl. It's not the food she's looking for, I think; it's her dinner partner.

It's just like that. There will be a new cat, a snuggly one who will sit on my crossed legs, I hope. A new dinner partner. Knowing the inevitable end should not stop us from enjoying the existing moment.

Give Comparing Mind a Vacation

Comparing Mind works 24/365. It's like Santa Claus that way -- it knows when you're sleeping and seeds your dreams with fears of falling short (showing up on stage naked or not knowing your lines or how to open the door); it knows when you're awake. It knows if you've been bad or good -- and whether you've been badder or better than the person at the next desk or on the next yoga mat or the next meditation cushion.

But it goes into overdrive in summer. Not many people can go to the beach without pulling out the mental tape measure -- that person's bigger/smaller/about my size. I'd look better in that/I could never wear that/why would anyone wear that. Too tan/not tan enough/ouch pink. Ocean beach/lake beach/private pool/public pool.

We're a competitive breed. And an insecure one. The Buddha's First Noble Truth, dukkha, says that we suffer because we always suspect that there's a better now somewhere, if we could just find it. Dukkha literally refers to a wheel that doesn't fit right on the axle -- think of a shopping cart with a wonky wheel and how you have to fight to keep it from crashing into a tower of cracker boxes.

 And as we wheel along we constantly check to see how we're doing in comparison to everyone else as if it's a run for the roses. But we can't stop and smell the roses because the next race looms.

Unless we realize that we can. Stop. Smell. Roses.

What does that smell like? Does it remind you of something? Of someone? Of sometime? What does it bring to mind? To heart?

And what does a rose look like, really look like, if you're not counting how many other roses are in the bouquet and whether the dancer down the line at the recital had more in her bouquet, or wishing that they were yellow instead of pink or a better shade of pink or had more buds and fewer flowers?

Feel it. The petals are soft like moss like velvet like fine sand. And the thorns are hard like razors. Such contrast. Such metaphorical possibilities.

The mind that can be with a rose, just one rose, and be dazzled by its appearance and contradictions, is the mind that can go to be beach and be with one body -- the one that carries it around -- seeing the other bodies for what they are without letting Comparing Mind take over and make Awareness Mind feel fat or out of shape (or fit and superior).

Need some inspiration? Check out ctworkingmoms.coms Goddess Gallery -- photos of real women's post-pregnancy stomachs. They got tired of photos of celebrities who bounced right back to pre-pregnancy shape seemingly within days. They took photos of themselves in yoga pants and sports bras and put it on the Internet for everyone to see -- and compare to themselves.