[ Yoga for Life with Charlotte Bell ]
Clear your Closet, Lighten your Life

I've had to iron a lot more than usual in the past six months. This is not because I've been attending a lot of glamorous galas. It's because my closet has become so tightly stuffed with clothing that no matter how neatly and conscientiously I try to put things away, the pressure of so many fabrics squished together irons in deep wrinkles. When I try to pull out a single item, two or three others always join in, as if trying to escape from the closet's hellish grip.

This situation does not happen on its own. Clothing does not naturally reproduce. My closet becomes impossibly stuffed because I have a weakness for vestments, especially skirts and sweaters. I have a hard time resisting sales. I can't begin to calculate how many things I've bought simply because they were radically reduced in price. Many of these items hang my closet, as yet unworn, as I continually return to my old favorites.

My crowded closet has finally driven me to my annual purge, an event that — no matter how much I might like some of the things I choose to release — always brings a sense of lightness and relief. Not only do I no longer dread the inconvenience of having to maneuver in the overstuffed space, I feel more buoyant physically, mentally and emotionally. A closet stuffed with long-forgotten items is burdensome. Comedian George Carlin jokes that our houses have become simply places to store all our stuff. Having more than we need may make us feel secure, but it comes at the price of weighing us down.

When I read recently about the $400 million retirement package awarded to the CEO of Exxon, I was appalled. Who could possibly need this kind of wealth? At the same time the CEO was taking home this unfathomable amount of money live on for the rest of his life (which I read works out to $178,000 per day if he lives the average life span for an American male), the rest of us are paying ever-increasing sums for our basic needs on ever-decreasing incomes.

Still, as I look with disgust upon this blatant example of greed gone amok, I have to remember my own closet that, even after I've released a considerable volume of its contents into the world, still contains a fair number of things I will probably never wear. Who needs this much clothing?

The CEO of Exxon and I are hardly alone in the pursuit of accumulation. My sister told me a few weeks ago that she looked in her 16-year-old daughter's closet and began counting the t-shirts stuffed therein. She stopped counting when she got to 100. She says this staggering number is not unusual among my niece's peers. Many items are purchased to be single-wear throwaways. In my niece's circle of friends, repeating an outfit is considered to be an unforgivable faux pas. I do understand how having something shiny and new to wear feels good, but I also know that a new outfit's patina wears down pretty quickly. It's never long before the quest for something new begins.

Our world is filled with opportunities to acquire pleasing objects, relationships and experiences. There is nothing inherently wrong with wanting to enjoy the pleasures that surround us: sights, sounds, smells, tastes, ideas. Where it trips us up is when we do not understand that this satisfaction derived from outer pleasures is momentary. Acquisition has the potential to become an uncontrollable addiction when we start to believe that the more we acquire the happier we'll be.

The propensity to accumulate is fueled by what the Buddha named as the root of all suffering: desire. In English the word "desire" serves to define several qualities, so in using this word, I'd like to specify exactly what it means in terms of this article. Desire can define an intention to accomplish something, and many times this action can be motivated by compassion, wisdom or inspiration. Most of us share a desire to meet our basic needs: food, shelter and yes, a reasonable amount of pleasure.

These types of desire are not what the Buddha considered to be the root of suffering. The unhealthy desire that the Buddha identified was the quality of craving, attachment and greed. Craving is characterized by the mind that is consumed by wanting, the mind that pins its hopes for happiness on the acquisition of the object of desire. We can apply this feeling of attachment and craving to material objects, people and experiences. What is the difference between a feeling of love for your partner and a feeling of possessiveness? Often these two are intertwined, but in those moments when the feelings are distinct, it is easy to understand the difference between the restless, desperate clinging of desire and the boundless sweetness of love.

Craving causes suffering because when we continually look for satisfaction in our next acquisition, we fail to see and appreciate the many gifts available to us in this moment. We spend our lives racing from one pleasure to the next (or one sale to the next), not realizing that happiness is available when we enjoy our lives right now. When we are caught in an endless cycle of desire we are always running, always grasping after what we do not have.

While my intellect is well aware that a new sweater will not bring ultimate happiness, on some level, the instant gratification of the desire for it brings a temporary feeling of pleasure that I crave. The truth is a new sweater, a stylish car and a bigger house (with a roomier closet) do not have the power to make me happy. What brings satisfaction in the moment of acquisition is the assuaging of the desperation of wanting. Not long after acquiring whatever thing I've been lusting after, another desire invariably arises. The objects of our desire change from one day to the next. And every single object of desire, no matter how large or small, will someday go away. Counting on these transient things to fulfill us is futile. How many desires have been fulfilled in your life? Where is the pleasure of these fulfillments now?

Unhealthy desires often spring from a feeling of lack. We crave something from the outside to make us feel complete and whole. We cling to the things we already have — material goods, relationships, situations — simply because we believe these things define us. The truth is the things we acquire can neither complete us nor define us. Because they are impermanent, material wealth, relationships and experiences can only give us temporary pleasure. When we understand this, we are able to make choices about how much of our energy we want to invest in the acquisition of a given desired object. Some things are worth giving our energy to, others are not. Some things we already own are worth hanging onto, others are not. The paradox is, the less attached we are to our object of desire, the more we can appreciate it, not only in spite of but because of its transient nature.

Essential to the power to discriminate between healthy and unhealthy desires are two understandings. The first is to recognize the impermanence of material wealth, relationships and pleasurable situations. We can see this by reflecting on the many pleasures we have enjoyed in our lives, and by noting how long their glow illuminated us. We can see this simply by sitting and watching the workings of our own minds. How many thoughts, emotions and sensations — pleasant or unpleasant — pass through your own mind in a span of time even as small as five or ten minutes? Our lives are shifting constantly. How can we define ourselves by things that will by their very nature disappear? Desires, too, pass in time.

The second understanding is that we are inherently whole as we are. We can also understand this by looking deeply at our own minds. Awareness is the boundless faculty that we all share that mirrors our desires, thoughts, sensations. It is the silent screen that exists always, onto which all images, thoughts and sensations arise and into which they dissolve. Underneath the continual parade of sensation lies the vast, unchanging, peaceful quality of awareness that is the root of contentment. When we can begin to discriminate between awareness and the objects of awareness, we realize that at the most profound level, we are vast, complete and whole. The late forest monk, Aachan Cha, said that within itself the mind is inherently peaceful. We are already whole. There is no need to reach outside ourselves for or cling to impermanent things to make us whole.

In our daily lives we can develop the power of choice by practicing renunciation. In a culture of acquisition such as ours the concept of renunciation sounds harsh and deprived. In reality, gaining the power of choice over our desires is quite freeing. At times when I find myself craving after some item, I have begun to practice stepping back. I query myself. How would I use this particular item? Do I already own something that serves the same purpose? And most importantly I ask, what am I willing to let go of to make space for this? With practice and intention, I've become more skilled at letting desires pass by without having to follow them slavishly.

My favorite way to practice renunciation of material things is to clear my closet. Not only does it lighten my psyche and make my closet much more maneuverable, it has brought unexpected pleasure. Many years ago I worked for Wasatch Academy, an independent boarding school in Central Utah. The school manages a thrift store on its campus. That year I chose to donate the bounty from my closet purge to the school's shop. In the following weeks I was delighted to see my clothing all over campus on students and teachers alike. I felt that these things, many of which had been items I'd cherished at some point, had been given a new life. Instead of being squished into the back of a dark closet, they were once again in play, being appreciated by someone new.

When we let go of materials, relationships and situations that no longer serve us, we ease some of the burden of our complicated lives and free ourselves to receive whatever new opportunities arise. In addition, we release the things we've trapped in our physical/mental/emotional closets to live a new life. Start with your closet, your garage or your attic. What things are clogging your life? What happens when you release them? What feelings accompany letting go? Make the empowered choice not to acquire every object of desire that crosses your path. Unburden yourself of things of the past and cherish what there is to enjoy right now.


Charlotte Bell is a yoga and meditation teacher, freelance writer and musician living in Salt Lake City. She is currently working on a book, titled Mindful Yoga, Mindful Life, that will be published by Rodmell Press in 2007.


Public domain text taken from: http://www.nyspirit.com/issue139/Clear_Your_Closet.pdf
Published August & September 2006 New York Spirit.

Any merit accrued from this effort is dedicated to all sentient beings.