So many big houses.
Why do we want such big houses?
To protect, to surround, to cushion.
To collect, to secure, to establish our kingdom.
Big houses are empty spaces that we fill, from our fear of being out in the open, in bare nakedness, vulnerable to external forces we think are out to get us.
But the forces we fear are not real, only outward manifestations of the illusions we create.
Illusions that mirror the beliefs we cover ourselves with and the stories we tell ourselves, to explain that which we do not understand and, therefore, are afraid of.
We pad ourselves with big homes and big offices, big meals and big televisions, big computer screens and big cell phones, big talk and big toys, big yards and big decks, big garages to keep big stuff in, big hair and big lips, big implants and big eyelashes, big desks and big libraries, big watches and big diamonds, big refrigerators to hold more stuff, big mortgages and big leases, big coffee mugs and big croissants, big water bottles and big drinks, big wardrobes and big purses, big boats and big properties, big bank accounts and big investments…
As if we might run out of stuff… as if we might be abandoned and need our stuff… afraid it might be confiscated… leaving our bare naked humanness revealed for all to see its underbelly, as if we might not be big enough to be seen.
Driven to collect these big spaces, we then fill them up…with commitments and appointments, friends and acquaintances, giant pantries and pets, fans and followers, advisors and agencies, with strategies and activities.
We are compelled to keep these big spaces filled, to prevent our big inventories from diminishing, to keep our kitchens overstocked, our bellies overfilled, our calendars overbooked, our houses overstuffed, our accounts overmanaged…
As if we might run out…of things, of friends, of plans, of food, of love.
And we, the collectors of these big lives, then need to hire others to take care of our big houses and big offices, big yards and big pets, big kitchens and big antiques, big organizations and big schedules, big cars and big boats, big toys and big gyms, big beauty treatments and big wardrobes, big properties and collections.
So, we need to make more money to pay for all the others who take care of, provide, replenish, maintain, and manage all of our stuff for our big lives.
We work more jobs, become more busy, have less time, move too fast, multitask, sleep less, drink more and eat more.
Which makes us more tired, more stressed, more cranky, more pained, more ill, more depressed, more accident prone, more injured, more diseased in our self-imposed expanding and repeating cycle of creating bigger lives.
Picture yourself rising above, high enough to see yourself in your physical world.
Imagine watching yourself rushing here and there, filling your big house, running to do this and that, buying more stuff. See yourself, a mini you, in the routine of your life, the pattern, the hamster wheel, the habits, the obsession with doing, buying, collecting, filling, cleaning, and sorting, then reorganizing… your stuff, your people, your relationships, your calendar of activities, your work and your big vacations. Do you see it?
Yet, we can’t stop the cycle, can’t get off the wheel of our mind, lest we panic, embarrass ourselves, or feel ashamed, less than, not good enough,
not big enough.
For just a moment, imagine what would happen if all of that was gone…all the big houses, all the big stuff, all the rushing and trying and proving and striving.
Who would you be?
Would you be different?
Would you be smaller?
What would you do with all the extra time, the extra energy, the extra space that you no longer need to fill with all that big stuff?
Would you be tempted to fill those spaces again?
Can you imagine your life without all that stuff?
Could you be enticed to simplify?
Could you just be still, just breathe, just feel, just be you?
Could you find ease in all that open space?
Could you find peace?
Could you find freedom in shedding the big life?
Could you find lightness in your being?
Could you find Joy?
Imagine rising high enough so that you can see the areas of wide open space all around you.
The land, the waters, the people, the mountains.
The man meditating on the hillside.
The flowers all over the valleys.
The horses in the pastures.
The children running free in the wide open spaces.
The women bicycling to the outdoor marketplaces.
The couples eating ice cream on the green land, walking hand in hand.
The groups kneeling in gratitude for the green open spaces.
The farmers tending the rolling harvest acres.
The families on the beaches.
The groups in sacred forest bathing.
Are their lives less important than yours?
Smaller than yours?
Is their value and impact in the world lower than yours?
Are they happier than you?
You are the only possession you really own.
You are the caretaker of only one thing…you.
You are the space that you fill.
You are a space bigger than you can ever imagine or fathom.
Yet you don’t see it, because you’re busy filling outside spaces.
A whole and complete world exists within you.
You are a universe.
More amazing, exciting, fascinating, powerful, fulfilling, magical, and self-sustaining than any thing or any space outside of you.
The biggest house you’ve ever known is you.
What are you filling yourself with?
