The Purge

I was cleaning out some old files this morning when I came across a paper copy of an email a friend of mine sent me 15 years ago.  It made me smile so I took a picture of it and popped it off to my buddy - I hope it makes him smile, too, as he ponders my question: how would the list he compiled then differ from one he would put together today?

I saved a copy electronically then pitched the note.  I think this would irritate my friend who wonders at my relentless purging of the traces of my life.  It makes me wonder as well.  I don't think I was always like this.  Just 6 or 7 years ago I had a big basement and big attic and a big garage, all of them full of Stuff.  And sort of normal piles of Stuff, not the truly excessive piles of Stuff that many people hang onto.  We all know the feeling of looking into a garage that is literally stacked to the ceiling with mountains of Stuff, most of it having languished in moldy, cobwebby obscurity for years and years, likely never to swing into its intended action ever again.

So what happened?  Much of my transformation was the very practical result of our big move.  It's one thing to let an old lawn chair rest quietly in a corner of a garage, another altogether to pay someone to move it 2500 miles to a small house with no garage and no attic and no basement.

I flatter myself tremendously but I think that some of this is the very weird result of my spiritual development.  In all of my thousands of hours spent in prayer and meditation I've yet to come across any thoughts as to what to do with old lawn chairs.  Just doesn't come up.  I do get the sense that the goal - in part at least - is to give up as much of my attachment to the physical world and all of its people, places, and things that I can.  Can't take it with you, no one here gets out alive, etc etc.

I'm also under the impression that some of my traveling has influenced my thinking.  I've had a bunch of trips recently to countries that pursue spirituality in a different fashion than was presented to me in my upbringing, and this has made me think Great Spiritual Thoughts in a different fashion.  I know that spirituality is spirituality, but I think we can come at it from a variety of angles.  I've seen cultures in India, Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand and how they approach life and whatever comes next.  Even in New Zealand, with its Maori culture, spirituality was a different animal than what I'm used to.  

I'm sure my memory is somewhat clouded but I remember in my youth being a lot more afraid of hell than certain of heaven.  Hell sounded pretty bad and heaven sounded like a place where the Savior was.  I mean, nothing against the Savior or anything but if one side of the equation is an eternity of incredible pain and suffering and the other side is a place where the savior is then I'm feeling kind of gypped.  Can a brother get a bag of candy or a really comfortable Barca-lounger or something?  Wandering around on a nice day wearing a white toga sounds great but not that great.