A couple of people have told me that they have enjoyed the poetry that I’ve shared in this blog. I’m not a big reader of poetry but some of it speaks to me in a powerful way that only poetry can. It seems to be able to bypass the analytical mind and speak directly to the soul on important matters. In the intense process of self-examination that has brought me to this journey I have used poetry and images as maps and guide-stars along the way. One of the images that has haunted me (in a good way) is a photo of Mahatma Gandhi’s possessions at the time of his death.
It’s amazingly sparse collection of things for anyone, let alone for a leader of a country: two bowls, one white one black, a fork & spoon, two pairs of sandals, a pair of glasses, a copy of the Bhagavad Gita, a watch, a letter opener, a figurine, a spittoon and his diary. This one image has been and continues to be a huge inspiration to me in the process of simplifying my life. It’s hasn’t been easy to reduce my possessions. To go from a large house, garage, basement and attic full of stuff, to what will fit into a small boat. Half a boat actually, because Susan is doing the same thing.
People have asked me; why not keep your house and store your stuff? The simple answer is that isn’t practical, but it’s much deeper that that. It started with the practical, but then I saw that photo of Gandhi’s meager belongings and a light went on. I’m not done yet, while I’ve gotten rid of about seventy percent of my stuff, it seems to be getting harder as the possessions grow fewer. I wonder if Gandhi was still working on his stuff at the end of his life. Could he have been thinking; two bowls, do I really need two? It could be, it’s a process, a journey.
I have come to believe that things hold us as much as we hold them. And that possessions can hold us back from the things that we may want and need to do. Krishna Das has said that one of he most powerful things we can do is “letting go”. Eventually we come to the place where we have to let of it all and become it all. Where we flow "into the marvelous stream of oneness."
Another guidepost and inspiration for me along the path has been this amazing poem by Thich Nhat Hahn:
I Will Say I Want It All
If you ask how much do I want,
I'll tell you that I want it all.
This morning, you and I
and all men
are flowing into the marvelous stream
of oneness.
Small pieces of imagination as we are,
we have come a long way to find ourselves
and for ourselves, in the dark,
the illusion of emancipation.
This morning, my brother is back from his long adventure.
He kneels before the altar,
his eyes full of tears.
His soul is longing for a shore to set anchor at
(a yearning I once had).
Let him kneel there and weep.
Let him cry his heart out.
Let him have his refuge there for a thousand years,
enough to dry all his tears.
One night, I will come
and set fire to his shelter, the small cottage on the hill.
My fire will destroy everything
and remove his only life raft after a shipwreck.
In the utmost anguish of his soul,
the shell will break.
The light of the burning hut will witness
his glorious deliverance.
I will wait for him
beside the burning cottage.
Tears will run down my cheeks.
I will be there to contemplate his new being.
And as I hold his hands in mind
and ask him how much he wants,
he will smile and say that he wants it all—just as I did.
Thich Nhat Hahn, 1954.
281 days
