Anti-materialistic

You think shopping for the 'guy who has everything is hard'? Try the guy who hates everything! Which would be me.

Well, sorta kinda. Not quite everything, so much as most 'things.' And hate is a bit of an exaggeration.  For my birthday, my wife gave me a compact disc she burned with some of my all time favorite songs.  (Oh right, and a delicious Nepali meal delivered, and cake.  Mmm.)  Those are examples of the kind of 'thing' I like.  Or the letters 'D', 'A', and 'D' that my sons fashioned with their bare hands a few years ago out of the relatively hard sand and sediment layer under the great Salt Lake where we went for a dip.  Or the skateboard broken in half and re-glued into the shape of a heart from Eli.

Certainly there are other 'things' - hand-made or not - that have found their way into my relatively Spartan lifestyle, which have gathered to them feelings and memories.  And a certain emotional gravity that I will not discount.  Or even necessarily feel burdened by. In fact, these are the things that can be triggers for joy, sorrow, poignancy, and other emotions.

However, in general I can be described as 'thing-o-phobic.'  I readily acknowledge that this predilection to eschew the material is not in any way spiritually superior to acquisitiveness.  I find that either direction can be as 'materialistic' as the other.  The degree to which one finds suffering through aversion on the one hand, or clinging on the other seems for all intents and purposes equivalent.  And the challenge at either extreme also seems equal:  can one be surrounded by material possessions without attaching to them?  And by 'attaching to them' I don't mean to value them, or use them, or admire them - but rather to feel an undue sense of grief if they should be lost or broken, which is an inevitable outcome, whether in one's lifetime or after.  And can one live in relative austerity without feeling a sense of moral superiority, and disdain for the few things that do come into one's possession?

Buddhists speak of a 'middle way,' which in this arena might be understood as neither Spartan nor cluttered.  But I think it refers rather to an ease with either extreme (or middle), a peace that is borne of understanding the true nature of all things and non-things.  Namely, that they are in their very nature holy, spirit - just like all of us.  Ultimately we are of this earth, we are this earth, and ultimately we shall lose everything and everyone we know, love, or feel attached to.  Can we know, love, and attach to that which is our timeless perfection?  The god we all already are?

Fund drive!

Yes, it's that time of year here in the D.C. metropolitan area.  Our local station, WAMU is soliciting funds.  And in a time of shrinking governmental support, it's more important than ever.  If you haven't done so already, pick up the phone, or go on-line, and pay until it hurts.

Because public broadcasting - especially NPR and the local affiliates - seems to be the last bastion of independent journalism.  There is an overabundance of opinion (much of it right-wing nut-job).  Our very democracy hangs in the balance.  You know it, I know it, all of us choir members know it, so as the demigoddess Nike says, just do it!

And if you listen regularly to NPR, there is an even more immediate reason to make your donation:  self interest.  Once you've called and made your pledge (or payment), then you can go on listening to the shows - Morning Edition, This American Life, Car Talk, etc. - even as they are holding the telethon.  Then notice the lack of guilt you feel, even as you enjoy the clever promotional 'spots' done by various celebrities.  And not feel the urge to change the channel, or turn off the radio, just to avoid the guilt.