Nameless Subway Stations

   Last night, I had a strange dream, in which I had been trying to find a subway stop but was unable to locate specific labels of the subway stops on a map. I ended up naturally getting lost in a complicated, rather intestinal, subway system, finding some strange subway names such as "I" subway station. The actual name of the subway I was looking for is unknown to me now, but somehow the name reminded me of the port where ships dock.
   I don't often write about my dreams, let alone remember them, but this one struck me in an interesting way as symbolizing the search for identity and the ways in which a person can get lost in adopting multiple identities without a proper view. I hardly subscribe to the view that identity is ever a single and permanent thing, because such a view conceals the way in which we cultivate many different kinds of relationships with people and occupations, and no single identity could ever possibly fit over all of them. But at the same time, the lack of labeling of the subway stops suggests a frightening view where there isn't even a language to describe the anguish of not quite knowing how to phrase one's identity struggles into a comprehended language.
   In Buddhist philosophy, one is often told not to be too attached to one's sense of identity, since it's not a static or permanent reality. Yet, at the same time, practitioners can become skilled in being able to discern phenomena on their own terms. Master Sheng Yen remarks "all dharmas, or all things, have their respective phenomena and scopes, without the slightest disorder. Their harmonious unity does not hinder other phenomena from existing individually. If we see all phenomena in the world with the eyes of wisdom, each phenomena has its own position" (p.185). If we apply this idea to language, one will understand that language and identity exist only in terms of a particular constellation of relationships. The "feeling of lost" that I sometimes have in the midst of that is thinking there should be a single coherent identity that sums up all these relationships, when in fact there isn't: phenomena occupy the positions they do, and there is no need to disturb other phenomena since they all exist due to their unique causes and conditions.
    Perhaps one elegant way to look at this is to say that there is no need to pick and choose the subway stops, since each stop has its place and characteristics. I might feel lost or disoriented, but that's not because the stop has no labels, but because language points to human desires. All signs point to one's desires and expectations, because signs are often designed to make it easier to get to the places we want to be, in the process of shaping our lives. But if I am not clinging to the shape that life happens to have in the moment, then I can feel at home in situations where I don't know how to name my subway stop, much less find it.

Sheng Yen (2014). Chan and Enlightenment. Taipei: Dharma Drum Publications