The Happiness of Things

What I had started out to write in my blog entry last time - and never quite got to - was that we were much happier as a people (or so the polls told us) before the advent of the consumer society. Perhaps a movement away from hyper-industrial production, mimicking a war economy, would actually allow us to return to a way of life that was happier and more fulfilling for those of us who are not making the huge profits from this absurd financial experiment gone wrong. 

I've noticed that when someone tends to hold onto things rather than throwing them away, people will say it's because they - or their parents - grew up during the depression. For a long time, I simply accepted this bit of common wisdom without question. Now I'm not so sure. From what I understand of the world before the Great Depression, people had the ingrained habit of conserving rather than consuming and discarding their resources. This was not because of any poverty or miserliness, but rather because they had not been introduced to the throw-away culture that we live in today. This was before built in obsolescence, when things were not only made to last a lifetime, but also to reflect the skills and aesthetics of the maker. 

We live in an older home, built in 1915, and its construction reflects these values. Even the radiator covers, such humble creations, are works of art - and have lasted for nearly 100 years. What products made today have any such expectation? Even the houses we live in that were built more recently have a shorter life expectancy. And as much as I love my Macintosh computer, I know that it is already on the verge of being obsolete after only a little over two years. If I want to keep up with the rapidly developing internet and software, I will need to "upgrade" within another year or so. But do I need to? Do I really need to?

I remember very little of my childhood, but I do have some surreal mental snapshots of being very small and there being a room in the house with some boxes piled on a couch. I suspect I wasn't allowed in the room, nor in the boxes, and so they took on an aura of mystery and treasure far beyond anything they might actually contain. I have a vague memory of creeping into the room - I must have been five or six years old - and opening the box to find a curved bronze dagger in a bronze sheath, something that my Dad had picked up on his travels. There was a magic to that chunk of metal that I've never felt from any mass-produced object of any kind. 

So - what have we lost? And what can we regain? I believe that this most recent economic crisis is nothing less than the long over-due response to an artificial economy, and that it can allow us - at least those who take the opportunity to do so - to return to an economic footing similar to that our parents or grandparents would recognize from their own early years. This would mean making some fundamental changes in how we live our lives. With a basic value on "conserve rather than consume" we could put more of our income into savings. We might take another look at things we spend money on and decide that we really don't need more than one television; a cable service with over 100 channels; a new car every three years; new clothes every season; gadgets that we are going to throw out in less than a year; or anything that we are able to live a happy and fulfilling life without. We might even begin to dismiss the idea that have been drummed into us by advertising over the past several decades: That we must consume in order to be a productive member of society. 

This is not to say that I am some sort of enlightened zen master, no longer attached to material things. On the contrary, I rather like my material things. As I was sitting in our Temple room with Patricia this morning, I was noticing how much I enjoy and am comforted by our "things". To some extent, this is because these objects express and reflect our shared aesthetic, and seeing them gives me an illusion of permanence. It is a way in which we extend ourselves into the world around us and claim our territory. With these objects, we say: "I am here! This is my space - my part of the ever-changing world." 

It seems to me that all of the pieces fit together. The throw-away aesthetic leads to shoddy workmanship and to a greater sense of impermanence. This also leads to people spending beyond their means, because they are told that happiness is to be found in having the latest widget, in the most popular color. And of course, it isn't. If the polls are any indication, happiness was something we found in much greater measure back in the days when we put our money into savings and purchased things that would last as long as we did; when our happiness was based on the health and well being of our loved ones; the closeness and companionship of friends; and, on our own spiritual connection with the wholeness of the world. 

Perhaps this crisis is a blessing in a this disguise. If we have to pare back our spending this year and focus on those things that are both free and priceless, it's not such a bad thing. 

namaste,

Kenn

Post Thanksgiving Ramblings

This is one of those rare days when I have lots of small things on my list to do, but it doesn't feel like the world will end if I don't get to all of them. It's days like this when I realize just how stressed I am a lot of the time - without realizing it. It's on days like this that I promise myself that I will "do" less and "be" more - and I try to keep that promise. But "being" me leads inevitably to "doing" more. Or so it seems. The tendency is for me to go into our temple room and sit, gradually settling into Stillness - and as soon as I've let go of the rush of everyday mind jabber - in that moment where the cosmic inner smile begins to peek through - another part of me begins to suggest how I can do this - or that - usually deeply spiritual things - anything to keep from falling into Stillness again. I have to smile. It's rather like a child who doesn't want to go to sleep and keeps coming up with excellent reasons why they should stay up. So I guess this analogy applies to when the kid has stayed up for a few days in a row - or when I've managed to skip my meditation for a few days - and then I fall into it like a rock into deep water. 

This morning I sat - chanting mantras and letting go of thoughts - staring at the Enso calligraphy on the Enochi altar across the room from me. When Patricia is sitting with me, she blocks my view of this card - perhaps even takes the place of it. But its image reminds me - as does her presence - of what is truly important in this moment. And I let go and sink more deeply into that.

It's a good feeling - the letting go of "me" of everyday nonsense that seems to terribly important - until I let it go and it's not anymore. I breathe more deeply and smile from the inside out. The wave surrounds me and I float. 

There are no words for the place with no words. But coming out of it, I feel - as usual - renewed, calm, and something like happy but without any subject. Just happy to be . . . here. 

I find the words of the One Center chant rising through me, so I spill them out, letting them take me out of the timeless place of Stillness. They bring thoughts with them - images and movements within me. I find myself returning to the dharma hall at the zendo where the chant was inspired. And other moments when the clarity - what I used to call the "inevitability of life" - has come to me with an assurance that there is some greater "something" to which I belong and that, when I relax into the flow and direction of that greater Self, my movement carries me toward greater awakening and other Mysteries which I do not yet begin to understand. This state of gnosis is a comfort to those parts of me that are committed to this adventure and I find myself thanking my ancestors and all other benevolent beings for this opportunity to Be Here Now. To be here with a partner who shares my thirst for this path, and who challenges me and supports me in ways that I did not know possibly until now. I thank them for the opportunity to become a parent - to take part ever more fully in the Human Experience. And I begin to think of our child, growing for more than three months now inside Patricia, who will be emerging into a world so very different from the one either of us were born into. I consider how many people believe that this is an ugly and dangerous world to bring a new child into - but we don't see it like that. Not that we don't recognize the challenges and take them into consideration, but we also see what a treasure this life is and what a joy it is to pass on this blessing to another. 

Thinking about the world in all it's complexity, I am reminded of a link that Patricia sent me a few weeks ago (www.storyofstuff.com) with an animated explanation of how things get made and the impact it has on our lives and environment. One thing that really stood out to me in that video was that people described themselves as much happier before we created the consumer society we live in today. It's as if the industrialists decided to make our happiness a part of their own equation of prosperity, and we are the ones who loose. They have created a perception that in order to be happy, we need the latest, sexiest, most expensive gadget, car or pair of shoes that we can afford. I realize that this is nothing new. Intelligent people have recognized this for decades. I was fortunate to have one of these intelligent people as my father. (Thanks, Dad!) He taught me that it was better to buy one really good pair of shoes that cost twice as much as the ones that were in style but that would last ten times as long and could be repaired rather than being thrown away after a couple years. (I still have a pair of wingtips I bought 20 years ago. They still fit and I still wear them.) 

What's different for me right now is that, since we're expecting a child, I am thinking about how I can pass these values onto HIr. In other words, I'm in the same quandary that every new parent experiences: How can I pass along my values and ethics to my child in a world that seems to contradict them at every turn? 

I don't expect to find one answer to this very large question. And I'm not interested in home schooling. What I do expect is that it will be a continued opportunity for our whole family to learn and grow together. And I'm looking forward to it!

namaste,

Kenn