Ownership
Within the Tao
all forms come and go.
Holding to the forms,
we suffer great loss.
Holding to the Tao,
we are content and happy.
The forms that come and go
are exciting and compelling,
so we try to grasp them,
keep them, make them endure
and make them work
on our behalf.
We end up exhausted.
The Tao is impossible to grasp,
yet only it can satisfy.
From Tao Te Ching, Chapter 35, translated in “Walking the Tao” by William Martin
So much of the Tao Te Ching offers me food for thought as I continue to explore the theme of simplicity and the reasons it is so difficult to bring into our lives. Today I am looking at the myth of ownership and the complicated web it weaves in our lives. Nancy and I live at the base of a small wooded hill. All around us is forested land with Pines, Firs, Spruces, Cedars, a few Oaks, and lots of Manzanita growing thick and offering home to countless species of insects, birds, and animals whose names I could not recite (other than the common deer, black bear, hornets, bees, quail, and jays). A combination of trails and dirt roads forms a three mile loop from our front drive that lets us immerse ourselves in this lovely sylvan landscape anytime we feel the urge.
Most of the trail takes us through land that is undoubtedly “owned” by someone, somewhere, but no houses have been built and no improvements have been made or look to be made in the near future. One area, however, off to the left as we skirt the edge of a hillside before descending into a small meadow, has an overgrown rutted remnant of a road that disappears up the side of the hill. About twenty paces up this unused road, nailed to the side of a Cedar, is a sign stating: “Private Property. Keep Out! This means you!”
I often pass this sign without a second thought. Today, however, I stopped and payed attention to the implications that bounced around in my mind. I’ve seen lots of “No Trespassing” signs in my life, usually on fences marking off an industrial area, an abandoned building, or sometimes a warning not to hunt on the property. These warnings make a bit of sense to me. When a sign in the midst of acres and acres of untouched forest shouts “private!” something else is going on. It’s not a “grow” area as we are too close to town to offer shelter to an outdoor marijuana crop, nor does it refer to the prohibition of hunting as again we are too close to town. It seems simply to be the stern statement that, “This is mine! Never mind that no one ever comes to the property, it is still ‘Mine!’ so stay off.” I certainly will honor the intention of the “owner” but the feeling I am left with this morning is one of sadness.
I am not a Communist. The idea of government “ownership” is no more appealing to me than is the idea of private “ownership.” Either is an economic fiction, a mental construction of boundaries imposed for a brief instant of time on a Reality that has no boundaries. We who call ourselves owners are believing a convenient illusion. No one owns land or resources except in the destructive economic fiction of modern society. Huge financial institutions collect vast sums of money from a continuous progression of so-called “owners.” We’re all just passing through and are taking brief responsibility for the territory through which we pass and the things we use. As a current renter, I take that responsibility as seriously as if I were the technical owner and always leave the property cleaner and nicer than I found it.
The Shasta Tribe of Native Americans who once flourished in this area would build villages in a convenient location and inhabit them for a time. When they moved to a new location they left the huts and houses behind, knowing that another group would soon need to move in. The concept of private ownership was unknown to them. The tribe belonged to the land, not the land to the tribe. This is still the fact of our existence, even though we have created the erroneous belief that land belongs to us. This erroneous belief is one of the major complicating factors in our lives, and is leading us in a terribly destructive direction.
I think the reason for my reaction this morning is that such a sign on this beautiful forest trail called forth the images of oil pipelines, tar sands, fracking, private pumping of water into plastic bottles for resale, and the artificial attempt to carve up Wholeness into private parts. Once again, simple enjoyment of the natural resources of life is being complicated by the creation of “mine” and “yours.” Something as natural and exhilarating as a walk in the woods is becoming another commodity that is bought and sold, owned and controlled.
This myth of ownership is yet another strand in the complex web of suffering we have superimposed upon what was meant to be a simple and joyful life. Think of the stress that “ownership” brings to our lives. Do we really need to work so hard to “own” all this stuff? Couldn’t we share at least the lawn mower, snow blower, and an auto or two? I wonder if we might even recover some of the old “hippie commune” energy of my vaguely remembered university days, in a form that would work for those of us who have been so conditioned to be completely isolated and independent in our illusion of ownership?
What are your thoughts?
