A Dharma Glimpse by Chris E-S
This summer, we are planning on re-carpeting the spare bedroom and the study. “Study” is something of a misnomer: it is a junk room, albeit a small one. The spare bedroom is not much less cluttered but at least there is room for a single bed in it, or there was until my brother’s vinyl record collection took up temporary residence there following his house move last autumn; now the bed and mattress are propped up on their side against the wall to make room for the vinyl.
We are putting off the carpeting, to be honest, because before we can do anything we need to sort out the amount of stuff in both rooms. My husband has begun to tackle the study, but there is still a long way to go. Whenever I think about starting to delve into the cupboards, drawers and boxes, I get a feeling of dread. It’s the same when I look in my wardrobes at clothes that I haven’t worn for years, and yet it is somehow too hard for me to part with any item.
What is it about stuff? If I can mis-quote Parkinson’s Law (where work expands to fill the available time), stuff seems to expand to fill the available physical space, and in our two-and-a-half bedroom bungalow stuff has expanded to near bursting point. Why do I need so many pairs of shoes and so many jackets? What possible reason could there be for holding on to all those cables and connectors, more than half of which we have no inkling of a use for? Look at all those manuals, some dating from decades ago, for appliances that have long since given up the ghost and been replaced!
Stuff is insidious: it slowly weaves its way into our lives and takes over, and before we know it we are drowning in stuff. One of the reasons I could not face the prospect of moving house again is the thought of having to deal with the tons of belongings that would have to be moved with us. My book collection, taking up six ceiling-to-floor bookcases, would be a nightmare to pack up and move for a start.
Thinking about the sheer amount of belongings I have managed to accumulate over my lifetime, I can’t help comparing my lifestyle with that of the Buddha and those holy men and women who followed in Shakyamuni’s steps. They had no need of wardrobes full of clothes, or shelves laden with books. All they required was a robe to cover their body and a bowl for food. Whatever else they needed did not come in the form of material goods but in following a spiritual lifestyle. How very different am I!
And yet, despite my floundering around in a sea of material possessions, I am trying to catch on to something spiritual too. I don’t think I will ever be like the ascetic with their plain robe and bowl, but I am going to make a determined effort to not cling on to material things quite so hard. This Spring, the traditional season of cleaning, I am going to face that sorting-out of the rooms to be carpeted; I am going to take control of stuff for once and stop it choking my life. When all is said and done, my spiritual life is far more important to me than any library of books or latest Skechers shoes could be. I take refuge in the Buddha, the Dharma, the Sangha, the Earth; no amount of material goods can match the joy and comfort I get from that.