There are certain absolutes in life. You either get it or you don’t. You are pregnant or not. You are alive or dead. You are suffering or not suffering. These are all conditions that come and go. One minute you’re pregnant, the next, you are a mother. Sometimes you get it, sometimes you don’t. You are alive right up until you are dead. You suffer, then you stop suffering. This is how you pass time.
You can think of time as a series of moments where things appear and disappear. You are the accountant who keeps tabs of what is and isn’t in each of these moments. Your suffering comes from your attachment to the bottom line. As you count what is and isn’t, you want some things to keep being, other things not to be at all, and you wish for new things to come into being. You participate by maintaining, destroying and creating things as you keep your running tally. The bottom line is quite complicated and somewhat arbitrary, also changing with you and passing time.
As complicated as it is to keep track of the accounting as it relates to your experience, if you add your family into the mix, what is and isn’t becomes vague. You may not be pregnant, but your sister is. Your sister may be enjoying the moment, but your brother is suffering. Your mother may be alive, but your grandmother is dead. Your family is then alive and dead, suffering and content, pregnant and not.
Also, you can think of time as a single span in which you are born, live and die. In an eternal moment, you are alive and dead, suffering and enjoying, getting it and forgetting it. As an accountant, there is nothing to figure or become attached to anymore. Everything cancels itself out.
To create a bottom line that can tell you whether or not to suffer, you have to limit your focus to yourself in a particular moment. In that moment you can see what is, was and could be and decide if you like it or not. Then it changes.