....stuff

Yogis,
Yet again I am at the beach house for three days. Something we now try to do every two weeks from September through the June week when we hand over the keys to summer renters. The frequency and consistency of the visits were one of the positive developments of covid. We were fortunate to have an escape and we took full advantage and became accustomed.

It really is a cottage. Built in 1927 it welcomes you with its old screened porch which runs the width of house, well-worn pine floors, a small galley kitchen and bedrooms that have room only for a bed, a dresser and night stands. There is no ‘master’ bath. No pantry, or island, or foyer, or family room. And being a cottage…..virtually no storage.

A small suitcase of clothes, food for the weekend, the book I am reading and my laptop are what travel in the back of my car with Phoebe. Left behind is an entire house filled with stuff. Where did it all come from? Why do I have it? The going back and forth these past few years has given me this thought to ponder.

Five of us stayed at the beach house this weekend. Saturday’s Easter dinner was cooked, served and enjoyed by nine of us around a long simple dining room (which is part of the living room) table. We laughed, shared stories and hugged. Somehow Thanksgivings are celebrated here where we have hosted delicious home cooked meals for up to 20, all in a kitchen that can comfortably hold 2 at a time. Never is there a mention of not enough stuff.

Here is where my mind keeps going.

I love my house at home. When I am there, I enjoy and feel that I need everything that is contained within it. Each time I try to clear out or give away, each item seems necessary. Yet when I come down here for three days at a time, or even a week, I don’t miss or need any of it. Why?

I am happy at home. I am happy here. Clearly the stuff is not the deciding factor, yet I continue acquiring more of it. The more space we have, the more we fill it…….

Looking ahead we begin to visualize our later years, with one of the options to make Rehoboth home base with something small back home. This leads to discussions of having to sell the cottage to get something bigger. Or putting on a big addition. But why? To bring down our stuff, of course.

What is it that we actually need? What is essential?

There is a freedom in being in a space with only the essentials. I can clean the whole place in under an hour and there in nothing that I feel I must protect. It is simpler. Less to become attached to.

There are times in my meditation practice where I touch that place in my inner world. Those moments sitting in silence and arriving in the quiet still spot where desire falls away.  Where nothing needs to be added in. Empty. Yet ‘enough’ is the word that comes to mind. And it is blissful.

I can taste it in my practice, but will I ever be willing to live it in my life? Is there even a need to? Time will tell.

Om,
SARAH