Saturday, June 23, 2012

Place, Space, Materiality and Health

Everything is material.  Everything is energy.  Everything has Qi. A closet, a room, a house are layers of embedded self.  Our "stuff" is charged with energy.  Likewise, most of our other stuff crammed into closets, buried in corners never to see the light of day, are energetically static, becoming a drain on our personal energy, and the collective energy of the space. A room, a house, objects are living, breathing things.  They bring life or they don't.  What animates them is my relationship to them.

Besides for hygiene purposes, we regularly bathe to clear our inner and outter energy fields.  Usually, we relax in a bath or shower, breathe deeper (moving the internal energies) and cleanse that which has energetically stuck to us on a given day.  Why would it be any different in a world where there is Oneness, even in regards to inanimate objects?  That which we surround ourselves and live with needs to be cared for in a similar way in which we care for our bodies.

Our materiality needs to be met, attended to.  Things that remain broken and uncared for reflect our own defunct state.  Things that are in order support a life, allowing it to work well.

What makes us so attached to the things we own, the things we don't really want or need?  Why don't we want to take care of what we have, what possessions we surround ourselves with?  What makes us hold onto more than we can handle, more than what we can attend to?

What does it mean to attend to an object, to exchange energy with something that is material (usually inanimate)?  Giving attention to an object is an exchange of energy; it acknowledges the space it takes up and therefore the space at large.  We create a place with our attention to that which we live with.  Looking at a picture, admiring it or disliking it, moving one's memory in regards to it is "owning" it and reaffirming one's relationship to it. Running a cloth or duster over objects is recognizing them, recognizing their need to have attention.  In the act of care, we acknowledge our relationship to it.  Similarly, our act of neglect recognizes our lack of relationship to the object.

What is the first thing I wake up to?  An altar created with prized objects that affirm their worth, my worth, that changes periodically depending on where I am in myself?  Or do I wake to a pile of dusty books? unfolded laundry? spent flowers in a tired vase? Papers stacked on a side table I don't want to deal with? Is the first thing I see upon waking energizing, hopeful, an impression that beckons my life to this new day ---or is it another  unattended "thing" to be ignored for the millionth time, unseen, unloved, uncared for?  This connection to inanimate objects are real and vibrant relationships that manifest all types of energy through my life and effect me and my health every day and every night.

How do I take care?  Where don't I?  How is that related to my present day reality? Does the pattern of attention (or in-attention) follow me from room to room?  Where is the place of choice?  Having choice as to what is in my life and what is not in my life. Is the collection of objects or clothes or shoes a decision not to make a choice?  Accruing materiality.  Crowding inner and outter space.  Denying Place. Not facing the energy gotten and given by such things, not acknowledging the depletion, sometimes depression these things (by no fault of their own) exert.  A type of negativity is rendered  because of my refusal to validate the relationship I have with them. How many decades has it been since I pulled that book off the shelf?  How many years ago did I last wear that dress?

Forget the psychology of objects, and "owning".  Remember the energetic dynamics that play on and impact one's life with these things and the subsequent layers of memory, influence and connection created. Engage with the concept of being a "good householder".  One's health depends upon it.

2 comments:

  1. I agree, this idea of attending to my immediate surroundings has a reflexive action on the whole state of my attention. The outer order reflects the inner order; and I need fluid, harmonious impressions in order to help feed my work. I think well-tended gardens are an excellent reflection of this principle, because they help make it more obvious to us. We grow gardens for vegetables and herbs, but the impression they make on us may make a subtle, but perhaps an equal, contribution to our health. What do you think?

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  2. what you say is akin to the idea I mention above of bathing ourselves. I think we require as evolving beings, many types of impressions. Is there anything more stunningly moving than the chaos of deep forest? With all its fallen, rotting tree trunks and general "messiness"? I'm not advocating being a neat-freak or cultivate everything in sight. As you put it, there is a light, non-intrusive awareness that subtly brings attention to many unseen layers in myself when I attend to object and place. There is a validating of my being, my worth when attention is given to objects I surround myself with. This lends to my well being, my health.

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