I seem to be going through a phase where I want to relate everything to Eastern religions. It probably has something to do with the fact that I’m taking an Eastern religion course at 8am this semester and I feel the need to justify the effort of getting up so obscenely early twice a week. Anyway, as I watched the makeup discussion occurring on twitter yesterday (facilitated, of course, by Amanda Palmer), I ended up thinking a lot about Mahayana Buddhism, and one of its most important facets: Upaya, or Expedient Means. I should probably start with a brief disclaimer: Anything I say here is being said in relation to the responses curated by Amanda, which naturally means that, for the most part, the statements and opinions expressed are those of members of her community. And while this community undeniably includes a sampling from an admirably wide range of demographics, I can’t pretend that Amanda Palmer fans represent an accurate microcosm of society. As a general rule, a lot less fucks are given. In a conversation about makeup and, resultantly, about personal acceptance and confidence, this is a pretty important factor to take into consideration. That being said, I think it’s a good thing. Let’s take a look at a serious societal issue in terms of a group of people that aren’t all that concerned with society—and in terms of Buddhism. First, a recap of what was actually going on: the conversation started with the “no makeup selfie” trend that began as a fundraiser for cancer research and treatment. Cue internet backlash, women bashing women, talk of narcissism, the usual. The discussion that ensued on Amanda’s feed sort of delved into a different issue based off of this one: Does not wearing makeup constitute bravery? Should we be ashamed to wear makeup? Should we be worried to NOT wear makeup? Why do we wear it if we do, why don’t we wear it if we don’t? In a flurry of retweets and anecdotes, I began to see a pattern emerging. The people (mostly women) who wrote about wearing makeup did so as a method of boosting confidence, feeling empowered, and getting comfortable in their own skin. The women who wrote about not wearing makeup? Well, for the most part, their choice to go natural gave them a level of confidence, comfort, and, you guessed it: empowerment. In other words, we all want the same thing. Of course, there were a fair amount of “I don’t wear it because I’m allergic/lazy/etc.” and “I wear it because it’s art/I feel uncomfortable otherwise/etc.” tweets that broke the trend. But for the most part, it seems to me like we’re all just trying to do what makes us hold our heads highest. So here’s where I start thinking Buddhism. Mahayana, to be specific: roughly translated, The Big Raft. As in, “Let’s pack as many people as possible into the Buddhist Car and enlighten every last one.” One of the most important concepts of Mahayana Buddhism is that of Expedient Means, which, for our purposes, we can basically understand as “any means to an end.” The Mahayana Buddhists figured that not everyone can go the route of the Buddha (i.e., master every teaching of every religious guru in India, decide he can do better, and meditate under a tree for 50 days until reaching complete enlightenment.) Not everyone has time for that much meditation—but to Mahayana Buddhists, the important part is that you get there. So if you need to explain Buddhist principles in terms of Hindu teachings, that’s fine. If you want to do yoga, go ahead. If you feel close to your Buddha nature when you’re talking out your suffering with your laughing Buddha figurine, so be it. Mahayana Buddhists just really want you to reach enlightenment, okay? Expedient Means is often explained in terms of the Burning House Metaphor: A man realizes his house is on fire, and that his very young children are inside playing. He realizes that they will be burnt—that they will suffer—if they don’t escape the house. But he also realizes that they’re too young to understand the concept of a burning building or the danger it poses—they simply don’t have the mental capacity to realize what they need to do. So the man runs into the room where his children are and tells them that their favorite toys are waiting for them outside the house. They should probably go get them, y’know, now. So, okay, he lied. One might say that he didn’t follow the highest, most genuine path. But his children aren’t going to suffer—they escaped. They may not have understood their situation to its fullest extent, but they got out of the house. Alright. Let’s talk makeup now. Like all things these days, it carries a societal stigma. Yet, the way I look at it, the ultimate goal for us (us being those who make an active choice whether to wear or not wear makeup, to shave or not shave, etc.) is to feel comfortable, empowered, happy and safe in our own skin. Free of suffering, if you will. Enlightened. Personally, I dig makeup. I like the routine. I like dressing up, making a statement with my body and everything I do to accessorize it. There’s a lot of ways of looking at it: a blank canvas (I’ve never been able to stay away from that), a mask. I know that when I do my makeup the way I like it (not necessarily to societal standards, but in the style that makes ME happy, and which I feel suits me), I hold my head a little higher. I strut. Look people in the eye. Smile more. Is this “right”? I don’t know. It obviously carries the weight of social norms and, albeit subconsciously, the male gaze. I like being looked at, admired. But mostly I just like to look at myself and admire what I see. Like the man in the burning house, I may be employing some questionable means. But I’m happy. Head held high, ready to face the world. Confident. Some of the responses to the discussion Amanda started made me realize that most people who choose not to wear makeup are doing so for very similar reasons, if not for the exact same ones. They like that the can control what they do and don’t do to their bodies; they like the feeling of reclaiming the idea of beauty. Or, in some cases, makeup makes them uncomfortable. Or they’re allergic. Whatever. The point is, most of those who actively choose to forego the mascara are doing so as a method of empowerment. The same reason I take utter self-indulgent pride in my morning makeup routine. So, in the end, I think we want the same thing. And personally, I’m gonna step back and chalk the whole thing up to expedient means: the more people who are happy, enlightened, empowered—whatever—the happier I am. Comfortable, confident people are beautiful, whether that means investing in a new eyeliner pencil every week or going jubilantly barefaced. In the (roughly translated) words of the Mahayana Buddhists: You do you, beautiful.
