If the Buddha Got Stuck_ A Handbook for Change on a Spiritual Path - Charlotte Sophia Kasl [96]
60. Be Willing to Let Go of Comfort
In the United States we are incredibly attached to comfort—to warm homes, high-tech clothes, shoes for every occasion, availability of foods from anyplace in the world, automatic doors, quick check-out lines, instant loans, and fast service. The paradox is that the more we feel entitled to conveniences, the more impatient we get when things go wrong. It’s as if our nervous systems are permanently revved up so it becomes difficult to relax when we have to wait or we can’t have what we want . . . immediately! We sometimes become like demanding children who pout, whine, or complain when things don’t go our way. Our impatience disturbs our peace of mind and transmits agitation to everyone around us.
Oprah Winfrey recently took a trip to South Africa to give presents to 50,000 children. When I watched the account I was particularly intrigued by the innocent, open, smiling faces of the children and how much less restless and jaded they seemed than many children from the United States. Oprah spoke of wanting to give them something and to be of service, but my thought was that we have a lot to learn from those children who appeared so polite and good to each other.
These children are clearly suffering in many ways from the profound impact of AIDS and poverty. But they have a richness that comes from non-attachment, community values, and happiness. One woman on Oprah’s staff, breaking down in tears, said, “Look at how completely happy this child is to be given one good pair of shoes while I probably have fifteen pairs in my closet.” Exactly. We need to cry for our excesses because they often reflect our unhappiness. The happiness quotient between no shoes and one pair of shoes is far greater than any succeeding pairs we add to the collection.
There is something profound in having just enough, but not more than we need; of treasuring our resources and being willing to accommodate for a greater good. During the oil crisis Jimmy Carter addressed the country sitting in a heavy sweater by a fire in the White House. He said that we all needed to pull together, and that if everyone would turn their thermostats down by three or four degrees in the daytime and more at night it would make a huge difference. This was so little to ask, yet many people in the United States would consider this a major burden—they don’t want to feel a chill in the air when they wake up or give up using their gas-guzzling vehicles to drive to the corner store for a latte whenever they desire.
A woman who rents out rooms in her home recently told me, “I tell prospective renters that I keep the house a bit cool in winter—that I heat for sweatshirts and sweatpants. You’d be amazed how many people feel that it’s an affront to their personal comfort and are unwilling to live under such conditions. They seem to have no understanding that it’s not just about their right to wear T-shirts and shorts in winter; it’s about oil, and drilling in the Arctic refuge, and war, and preserving resources for the next generation.” Being unstuck is about having a spacious heart that connects far and wide beyond my needs, my rights, and my way of life. It’s knowing that there is one life, and we’re all part of it.
Letting go of comfort is also a prime ingredient in adventure and learning. A friend of mine completed a sprint triathalon despite being very anxious about swimming in a deep lake—she had an irrational but very real fear that dragons might come up and grab her. She swam it anyway and plans to do the triathalon again next year because of the sense of elation and accomplishment it brought. Children don’t demand comfort until we teach them to. Youngsters at an ice skating rink are willing to fall down and get up hundreds of times