A few weeks ago I was privileged to attend my stepdaughter Melinda's high school senior project, a production entitled The Reality Bathtub, given at the Cincinnati School for Creative and Performing Arts. The theme of the play was a wistful look at why people don't act as they believe-openly and honestly, instead of saying one thing and doing another.
For instance, picture these scenes:
A housewife is shown, playing the Mrs. Cleaver role to the hilt, serving her family breakfast and reminding the kids not to miss the school bus, when two policemen come to the door. They inform the family that neighbors have reported a sudden rash of obscene phone calls, and they're investigating. Shocked, the mother denies any knowledge of these events, and bids them goodbye with all the saccharin at her disposal. (In a subsequent scene, this same woman is revealed as the obscene prankster.)
In another scene, a man vehemently accuses and condemns his son as a gay. (Later we see the father in a romantic encounter with another man).
And so on…..
Later, my stepdaughter and her co-writer appear sitting in a bathtub marked REALITY in large, red letters along one side. They briefly discuss the theme-why are other people this way? If only, etc. Then, as each character in the play is revealed as their true selves, they take off an outer garment and drape themselves on or near the bathtub with the others.
It was only afterward, when the girls were asking every member of the family if we "got it", that I remembered with what arrogance I too had once assumed that adults were so obtuse. (wry smile) I posed some questions to Melinda in return: "What if your bathtub is inside a larger bathtub? Or…what if everyone has their own bathtub?" At the time, I was feeling rather disgruntled at the notion that she might consider her father and me fakes, among others.
In any event, the image of the Reality Bathtub stayed in my mind, and I found myself pondering it once again at sangha the next morning. Did my stepdaughter really see the world this way? That all of us around her were just faking who we are and deceiving her? Deceiving ourselves?
During walking meditation I began to observe the concept of reality. For instance:
When we walk toward an object, it appears to move-not only toward us, but often up and down as well. Suppose…we didn't know the object wasn't moving? I mean, how do we really know what reality is? Well, I thought-the obvious way: we can feel and see ourselves moving forward, toward the object, not vice versa. And we have also been taught that this is how reality works…
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