Stuff
In daily pursuits each day something is added. 
In the practice of Tao, each day something is dropped.
Eventually there is nothing left.
No one to do anything.
Nothing to be done.
Yet everything is done smoothly.”
From The Tao Te Ching, Chapter 48 – trans. William Martin
It sometimes seems that life is all about addition, or even multiplication. If one is good, two is better, four is better yet. Accumulation is the name of the game and the winner, of course, is the one with the highest score. Keeping this game alive requires that societies ignore the advice of teachers such as Lao-Tzu, Jesus, and Buddha. Each of these three clearly taught that addition was the mathematics of unhappiness; and that subtraction was the path to joy. In the above chapter, Lao-Tzu indicates that the goal of life is to end up with “nothing left; no one to do anything; nothing to be done.”
I am encouraged by the popularity today, especially among young people, of the minimalist movement. Environmental concerns, the freedom to work at jobs that have meaning and purpose, and the desire to avoid massive debts is causing more and more twenty, thirty, and even forty-somethings to radically downsize. Some in this minimalist movement advocate never bringing a possession into your life without letting one move out the other side. As one who has moved residence many times over the years, I can certainly understand the benefit of that approach. I try to live a simple lifestyle, but things kept sneaking in under the radar and pretty soon – here is all that “stuff” again.
The little book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up, by Marie Kondo, offers gentle guidance in this difficult art of letting go. The title and style of the book belie the depth of wisdom it contains. Nancy and I followed the author’s program two years ago and found ourselves ready and able to make some powerful transitions. We are looking forward to going through the process once more and again lightening our life load as we prepare to move to a smaller residence in the spring.
Many of us are holding on to things, “for the sake of the children.” I can appreciate that desire but it is a process fraught with complications. An inheritance, whether it is money, possessions, or both, is the soil in which often grows a tangled vine of conscious and unconscious expectations, resentments, and disappointments. We received a modest inheritance from Nancy’s parents and it proved to be a very mixed bag. Though we appreciated the boost it gave us, we both often feel we would have been freer, happier, and more authentic without it.
I am grateful to my father, who lived very simply though he was a successful pharmacist. When he died he left a tiny rustic cabin to my sister and a small savings account to me. His business affairs were contained in one manila folder and his will was one page long. I have known many who, when facing the probate of their parent’s estate, find themselves faced with rooms full of debris, whatnots, forgotten knickknacks, furniture, books, paper, safe deposit boxes, and bank accounts. Siblings fight for years over property, houses, and heirlooms. Is this really the type legacy we want to create?
Throughout my life, when I have had the resources I have shared them with my children. Why would I want to leave a muddle behind for them to have to sort, move, store, or sell? If there is some thing of mine that they covet, why don’t I let them have it now? However even that seemingly generous impulse needs to be examined, for why impose on them a load I am looking to lay down? Though it may not be the cultural sign of a successful life, I would be satisfied, when my time comes to return to the Mystery of the Tao, if I could look about my environment and feel a sense of, “Nothing left. No one to do anything. Nothing to be done.”
