Freedom from Attachment

“Love people, use things. Not: Use people, love things” - Anonymous

Isn’t it true that as average Americans we have issues surrounding our stuff. We over shop to fill a void in our hearts, then stall around letting things go as we stuff our already overfull storage units with belongings, that we then forget about for years. When we die, or when our loved ones die, we are surrounded by their stuff, and it just feels so overwhelmingly loaded that we refuse once again to get rid of their things, or our children are left with inheriting stuff. Siblings fight and squabble over their inheritances, and this divides families during times that we should be getting closer and supporting and loving each other.

Having puppies was my first lesson in becoming less attached to belongings. Labradors that chewed through pair after pair of expensive shoes, leather coats, down sleeping bags and comforters, furniture, or whatever their wild little hearts could grapple with between their young teeth. In a way, it is a show of love. Animals, specifically dogs, feel connected and are reaching out when they stuff their jowls with toys or belongings, and they then nurture these feelings of connection by continuing to chew, lick or shred whatever is in their puppy breath filled mouths. Having traveled to Thailand, a very Buddhist country when I was eleven and seventeen, I was exposed to the peace that surrounds some of the monks and people in this part of the world. I was curious about this as a teenager, and learned that monks surrender their relationship to stuff by having few if any belongings. It contributes to a spiritual mental state where we are better able to connect with nature, both our inner nature and the beautiful natural world that surrounds us. We learn to listen, and not have our mental capacities continually bouncing around stories that surround our need for a new sofa, the fact that we have our grandma’s china and silver in a cupboard that may require insurance or care, our desire for a nicer car, for new clothes, or binging on that luxurious pair of shoes that we desperately long for. We require our spouses to adorn us with luxurious items to prove their love and commitment. I believe that this is incredibly wrong. Of course, I love jewelry, what girl doesn’t, and having token gifts throughout the years from Steve was really sweet. But it also was unnecessary. Our love transcended stuff on so many levels.

We chose to love each other. We moved nine times in the twenty eight years we were together, living in ten different homes, and each time we moved, we purged. I loved going to the Goodwill in Seattle and shopping, but very often when it was time, I would just turn around and donate most of what I had bought in order to have less clutter in my life. I have resold many books to used bookstores, and have given endless amazing books to the Take It Or Leave It (TIOLI) here on Lopez. It has always been a lesson for me. “I’m tired of moving heavy boxes full of books, and I imagine there is some nice person out there that may just find some joy by adopting some of my books. Maybe the stuff can actually spread good and provide extensive purpose and joy for my community. I certainly don’t need it!” My incredibly Gypsy heart, and the desire to keep moving, helped lighten my load and burden. It resulted in generosity, and the lesson of letting go of physical belongings and further releasing an attachment to stuff. This lesson was nourished by all of our moving around.

There is truth to be found in the lifestyle of the hobo, who walks away from a life in exchange for no belongings, no home, and a free feeling. However, my self desires a sense of place, as many hearts do. Now that I have found my permanent resting place, I do not plan on moving again. I still am prone to buy trinkets and incense to make me feel special and heal my need for communication and prayer. After Steve’s passing, and the truth that his body was impermanent, has reminded me that our bodies are our most sacred of all belongings, and that this beautiful godly creation that we get to inhabit is not forever. Stuff should be a tool we use in order to help us in whatever way that we need help. A pen, a frying pan, a shovel, even a lighter. Sometimes some beautiful adornment reminds us that we are still beautiful. And this is okay. But it is just a vehicle. It is the people that we love in this life that truly matter. Not the gifts they give us, nor the stuff we buy with our hard earned money.