alzheimers and dementia

twobitbob

Listening to a talk about going to refuge it was explained that only by taking refuge in the triple jewels could a solid base for practice be found - taking refuge in anything else is unwise as 'anything' else is impermenant.

My mind wandering as ever it does i thought about what might happen to Bhikkhu, or some such spiritually developed being, who has taken such refuge were to develop alzheimers.

I have seen people's minds totally destroyed by such mentally degenerative diseases erasing the past, personalities and understandings. Is there any documented cases of this occurring? Is the enlightened mind somehow resistent to such pathology? Of all the diseases i've seen as a nurse, this one scares me the most for is there any chance of enlightenment with such a disease?

Simonthepilgrim

Even the Buddha Shakyamuni was subject to old age, sickness and death.

We all have a sort of "fairy godmother" wish, tucked away in our practice: that all will be well with us.

Jason

twobitbob,

In a Dhamma talk from Thanissaro Bhikkhu, he mentions a conversation he had with his teacher before he died. In the talk, he said that his teacher was experiencing a lot of memory loss, confusion, et cetera, but "that thing he got in meditation" was always there.

The mind and body of a person are conditioned; therefore, like all conditional things there are subject to dissolution. However, if one has not attained the goal of liberation in this life, though they took refuge and lived a wholesome life, they will have sown the seeds for future spiritual development. I do not know if Awakening is possible while experiencing Alzheimers and dementia, although I suspect that it is—albeit extraordinarily difficultly. Nevertheless, there is no need to be afraid of such diseases because the mind and body are unsatisfactory, inconstant, and not-self.

Instead of arousing fear, the thought of these diseases should inspire the urgency and effort to practice because “as aging and death are rolling in on you, what else should be done but Dhamma-conduct, right conduct, skillful deeds, meritorious deeds?” (SN 3.25)

Sincerely,

Jason

Palzang

My teacher just recently taught on this very subject. Well, not Alzheimer's specifically, but the breakdown in our health associated with increasing age. She said that often this is caused by lack of merit, particularly in cases of premature health problems of this type. The solution is to increase your merit, perhaps by saving beings who are doomed to die, such as dogs in pounds slated for euthanasia, making offerings to the Three Jewels, etc. Of course, deterioration and death are inevitable, but it's always a good idea to check the merit train and make sure we're attending to it. It's merit that produces a human rebirth, and it's merit that keeps it going. If we run out of merit, we die.

Palzang

twobitbob

Thanks for your thoughts guys,

Palzang, the issue of performing meritous deeds to avoid one's own suffering is an uncomfortable one for me. Though it's a far more realistic motivator to do good things it seems to lack that 'pureness' of compassion. Maybe i'm just attached to a sense of nobility or that some kinds of compassion are better than others?

I often wonder how many times on the wards i really act out of compassion, and how many times other things motivate me, like a salary or trying to impress the boss.

Palzang

I grant you it's a difficult one for me too. It's hard to get the connection between merit and "reality", if you will. I can understand the logic of the teaching, but it's just hard to incorporate it into my life because it's not the way I was brought up. Much easier for Asians I think because it comes with their mother's milk, so to speak. And I've never really been one to put myself first. But the idea is that if you are going to reach enlightenment for the benefit of others, it's important that you pay attention to your health and well-being because if you're really sick or dead you can't practice. So I'm learning, bit by bit. Might take me a few lifetimes to get it!

One other thing my teacher suggested was keeping sort of a diary focusing on when during the day the motivation for compassion might arise, like when you see someone suffering on TV or someone who has a physical disability or something like that. It would serve as a check on your state of mind. Might help.

Palzang

Palzang

Huh, as so often happens, the appropriate teaching appears when you need it. This came in my e-mail right after I got writing the above:

In Zen monasteries you must pay constant attention to what you're doing, what you're experiencing from moment to moment. All your activities are prescribed, and they're carried out in deliberate stillness. After a time, this can get to you -- which is precisely what happened to the fellow in this story. He went to see the master and said, "I can't take this anymore. I want out."

The master said, "Okay, then leave."

As he started for the door the teacher said, "That's not your door."

"Oh! Sorry." The startled fellow looked around and spotted a second door. As he headed for it the teacher said, "That's not your door."

"Oh!" He looked around for another door. He could see that behind the teacher was a little door normally used by the teacher's attendant. As he headed for that door the teacher screamed at him, "That's not your door!"

Totally bewildered and exasperated, the poor fellow said, "What do you mean? There's no other door! You told me I could leave, but there's no door I can leave by!"

"If there's no door you can leave by," said the teacher, "then sit down."

We can only be here. We can't leave. We're always here. Examine your life and you'll see that this is the case.

The master's "sit down" means to start paying attention to what's actually going on, instead of running away from it. This is the only way we'll put an end to our underlying pain and confusion.

Unfortunately we try to deal with most of our problems by heading for the door, by trying to leave our immediate situation by any means we can. But our real problem -- the deep-down ache of the heart -- doesn't go anywhere. It travels with us. This deep-down problem is confusion.

--Steve Hagen, Buddhism Plain and Simple

twobitbob

So then enlightenment is not about finding such a door in our minds?



I remember one particular time in A&E when i had a rather attractive women to look after who had a D&V bug. I felt more compassion for her than any of my other patients that day. As i became aware of this i started to feel a bit guilty, that i could allow something so base to affect my perceptions. However, i couldn't help feeling this way either. So what i resolved to do was to imagine that all my patients were this women; this way they would all receive the same level of compassion from me. This was more difficult to do on some patients than others but it worked to a degree.

I'd forgotten this experience, maybe i should try to remember it more often.

Simonthepilgrim

twobitbob wrote:

So then enlightenment is not about finding such a door in our minds?



I remember one particular time in A&E when i had a rather attractive women to look after who had a D&V bug. I felt more compassion for her than any of my other patients that day. As i became aware of this i started to feel a bit guilty, that i could allow something so base to affect my perceptions. However, i couldn't help feeling this way either. So what i resolved to do was to imagine that all my patients were this women; this way they would all receive the same level of compassion from me. This was more difficult to do on some patients than others but it worked to a degree.

I'd forgotten this experience, maybe i should try to remember it more often.

As a small boy, out for a walk in Regent's Park with my father, I said: "Look at that ugly woman." Pa told me that Arthur Conan Doyle had said the same, as a child, and that his father had slapped him. He would refrain from the slap (he never raised a hand to us) but wanted me to learn the lesson: "There are no ugly people, only more or less beautiful ones." The lesson stuck and has been of immense value to me.

MartinofNorwich

My Dad died of Alzheimers which was distressing for him, my mother and, to a lesser extent, his children (including me). I knew little of the dharma then, but the experience of watching his personality disintegrate in front of me contriuted to my unease at the Christian teaching of an eternal soul that survives death. I just could not see where his soul could possibly be when what I thought of as "him" was disintegrating in front of me, nor that he would have wanted the frightened confused thing he became to survive.

Martin.