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Renunciation

Good evening. It's nice to be here, sharing the Dharma and practicing with others. It feels like such a privilege to be sharing the Dharma; it's a beautiful thing.

Recently, I moved to a different location, not too far from where I was living before. As part of the move, of course, there is a lot of packing. While I was packing, I did a lot of culling of things that were extra, letting go of things I no longer needed. I let go of a lot more than I expected. And then, when I arrived at the new place and was unpacking, I thought, "Do I really need this? I thought I did in my other space, but in this new space, maybe I don't." So, I did a whole other round of shedding. I have to say, I am discovering how wonderful it is to simplify and let go of so many extra things, just physically having less stuff.

Of course, this brings to mind the Buddhist teaching and practice of renunciation, which we often don't talk about that much. It's kind of in some dusty corner of the Eightfold Path^[1]. It's tucked away under the second factor, Right Intention. It's also one of the paramis^[2].

This idea is to simplify and let go of extra things that are not needed. I even feel a little hesitation to say the word renunciation, because often we might have views that it means being a monastic who stands on one leg for a year. We might have ideas that it requires extreme asceticism. But instead, renunciation is more of a giving up, a cutting down, or a letting go in order to accomplish a more meaningful goal—to enable something that brings greater freedom and greater happiness.

It is not letting go in the way that we might go on a diet, where we have a feeling of, "Oh, it's something I should do," which comes with a sense of deprivation and is often bound up with a whole circle of things that do not lead to freedom. Renunciation is about softening our attachment, releasing and letting go of all kinds of things for the sake of greater freedom, greater ease, and greater love. It's not a question of self-control, as if we're trying to master ourselves in some feat of willpower. It's just recognizing that there are extra things in our lives that can be heavy, bothersome, and burdensome, acting as obstructions on our way to freedom.

There might be resistance to renunciation because we have this idea that it requires extreme sacrifice in a way that makes us think, "Well, I can't do that. I'm not even going to go down that road." It is also not supported in the wider culture. I was reflecting on what I've seen in the media and my life experience, wondering what some demonstrations of renunciation or simplicity look like. I don't know what this says about me, but what first came to mind was the Unabomber. Here is this person who lived by themselves with a really simple life, but this is certainly not somebody we want to emulate or feel inspired by.

In contrast, I thought about the opposite. Some years ago there was a show called Keeping Up with the Kardashians. I didn't know what that meant exactly, but it calls to mind the phrase, "keeping up with the Joneses." The way I understand that is whatever our neighbors have, whatever they are doing, somehow we have to keep up. We have to acquire and have the same things. The cultural milieu in which many of us live does not support this idea of letting go and having less. However, there was the phenomenon of the Marie Kondo effect, where she was really saying, "Simplify, simplify, and surround yourself with things that spark joy." Maybe that's what renunciation is pointing to: having things that support a sense of joy, happiness, and freedom.

There are good reasons we might want to be suspicious of exhortations to let go. There can be a confusion that we have to suppress wanting things, desiring things, or having anything extra. There might be an aversion, a belief that you have to let go of those things because they are bad. It can get tangled up with puritanical ideas of good and bad, or with repression—a kind of clamping down or ignoring, instead of honoring our experience and feeling our way into what might spark joy or greater happiness.

Importantly, there might be a confusion between renouncing objects and renouncing clinging. Renouncing objects can be a part of simplifying, and I have found that having fewer objects has certainly created some great benefit for me. But there is a confusion that we have to renounce all objects. What this is really about is renouncing our clinging to objects, holding on to things that don't bring greater freedom or ease. So it's really about clinging and letting go—these two movements.

I think all of us recognize this movement of holding on and clinging. If we really pay attention, it's not a pleasant movement. Letting go, on the other hand, is like opening our hands. It has more of a sense of onward-leading potential. Another reason there might be resistance to simplifying is that it can be frightening. There might be a sense that clinging is giving us a feeling of taking care of ourselves. We cling to an object, an idea, or whatever it might be for a sense of security. Or maybe we cling to people or identities as a way to feel safe in the world.

We can honor and respect that, too. Renunciation doesn't mean we have to pry things out of our fingers; instead, it is to help create the conditions in which we can naturally let go of the things that are no longer supporting us. If we find that we have resistance to this idea of letting go, we can work with it as a question: "What would it be like? What would it be like to let go, to have less, to soften and simplify our lives?" Or maybe we could take it as an experiment and just try it. Start where it's easy. Instead of it feeling burdensome, like something we should do, we could take it on with curiosity.

Sometimes what we really need to let go of is the clinging and not the objects themselves. Maybe what we are clinging to is the belief that the objects will be a source of lasting happiness. It is the idea of what the objects will bring, not the objects themselves, that we are often clinging to. Can we move through the world with some ease, without this sense that we have to acquire, acquire, acquire, and get more and more?

There is a quote from the Dhammapada^[3]: "The person immersed in gathering blossoms, their heart distracted, death sweeps them away as a great flood a village asleep." In a village asleep, people are not paying attention, and this great flood just comes and takes them away. In the same way, if we are distracted by getting all the blossoms—"Oh, look at this one, this is pretty. Oh, wow, maybe I need this one, too"—we come to the end of our life having been busy just accumulating.

There is another verse in the Dhammapada that goes like this: "As a bee, without harming the blossom, its color, its fragrance, takes the nectar and flies away; so should the wise person walk through a village." I like this idea of a bee buzzing, going from flower to flower. It's natural; bees take the nectar without harming. In this verse, a person walks through a village, which to my mind is talking about monastics on alms rounds. But is there a way we can move through whatever our livelihood is, taking what's needed without harming?

We can also let go of our views and opinions. You have probably noticed in others—and maybe in ourselves, too, if we're honest—that we often carry our anger or our grudges in our views and opinions. If we are really tangled up in them and holding them tight, there is often unfinished business associated with them. This undermines the heart and keeps us filled with judgments about how things should or shouldn't be. Of course, we have discernment. We notice how things are helpful or not helpful, beneficial or unskillful. We can still have perspectives, views, and values, but it is the clinging, grasping, and believing them wholeheartedly that causes the anger, grudges, or fear underneath to leak out onto others and onto us.

Can we let go of our views and opinions in the ways they might be harmful, without taking up the idea that we should never have a view or opinion? We use them to guide our behaviors and how we show up in the world, but we can hold them more lightly.

We can also let go of trying to possess others. To the extent that we try to control our partners, our children, our parents, or whomever, we all know that people don't like it, and it doesn't work. We know this because we've all tried it, and we don't like to be controlled ourselves. If we see somewhere that we might be holding on, can we let go? Can we renounce, as best we can, the ways we try to control, possess, or own others, whether in obvious or subtle ways? We can love them, care for them, listen to them, make space for them, and be present for them. This feels so much better both for us and for them.

When we think of renunciation, we often think of objects, but there are other ways we can soften our clinging to things that are not helpful. We can think of renunciation as a movement of the heart. It is a movement towards greater happiness, greater freedom, and having our lives filled with things that spark joy.

There is a passage in the Dhammapada that says, "If by giving up a lesser happiness, one could experience a greater happiness, a wise person would renounce the lesser and behold the greater." Renunciation isn't about letting go so that we feel miserable. We let go because it is a way to find greater happiness and ease. This letting go should bring a certain type of joy or unburdening. It is a movement towards sources of lasting happiness and spaciousness.

Renunciation importantly undermines this movement of needing more and more. It strikes at the powerful assumption that happiness comes through having or storing. This assumption promises a way out of dissatisfaction and unease, but instead, it ends up supporting a nagging insecurity that somehow we are fundamentally lacking. The more that we accumulate or wish for more, the more it fuels this belief. Renunciation is an invitation to feel into what's available when we aren't always trying to get more. It's a chance to see that we actually do have so much of what we need. Maybe we don't have everything, but we often have so much more than we think we do.

As a consequence of letting go, not only can we find sources of greater happiness, but we can also find greater confidence. Without realizing it, our lack of confidence might be tied to an inability to feel okay unless we are acquiring more. If we can just pause the idea of having more, we can feel that, yes, we are actually okay.

Some experiences where I've felt this are while backpacking. You don't want to carry a whole lot; you just carry what fits on your back. To feel the joy and simplicity of walking and being with so few things is beautiful. In our meditation retreats, there is a reason why the retreat rooms are very simple without a lot in them. Both of these experiences—backpacking in nature and spending months on retreats with just a few things—help me realize that I can get by with less. It increases my confidence. Now, when I visit friends and family, I don't have the sense that I need to pack so much just to make sure that I feel safe. Renunciation is a way that increases our confidence. We realize, "I can get by even though I don't have exactly what I think I need. It's okay."

There can also be this sense of spaciousness, which often feels like a precious commodity. Our lives are crammed full, literally or figuratively—crammed full of objects, busyness, and things we need to do. There is a part of us that yearns for spaciousness. Renunciation is a movement towards this, having a wider view rather than a cramped one.

Renunciation is an opportunity to find clarity: What is it that I really need? What is a real support for greater freedom? What will help create the conditions that support my meditation practice and support the various factors of the Eightfold Path? We gain clarity on what things really support our practice and what things are just desires. Desires will always arise; if you just wait a half hour or a couple of hours, another one will come up. This could be something to experiment with and question: "What would it be like if I didn't give in to all these desires?" We can take it on as an exploration without the feeling that it is burdensome. We can renounce the "shoulds."

Renunciation can also be a support for sensitivity. When we indulge all our desires all the time, it can dull our senses to what is valuable or the beauty that is found in simplicity. We might miss some of the very simple pleasures available to us if we are always chasing after our desires.

One support for cultivating renunciation is to foster a feeling of abundance. A way to do that is to be generous. Practicing generosity often has the effect of making you feel a sense of abundance. So, renunciation is related to generosity, and you might start with what feels like a generous thing to do.

Another way to practice renunciation is to ask ourselves, "Do I really need this?" We might discover that our needs are relatively simple, especially if we pay attention to our desires and wants, which are endless.

For me, sometimes I will go to Amazon and think, "I clearly need this new thing," and I will put it into the shopping cart. What I appreciate is that you don't have to check out immediately. I make it a practice never to buy things on the same day I put them in the cart. It's amazing how many things end up there. Sometimes I come back later and realize I have to remove them because I don't actually need them. Putting things in the cart is an interim step that is satisfying in some ways, but often I don't actually click the final buttons required to acquire the items. This is one way to explore the question, "Do I really need this?"

When you have the sense that there is not enough and you need more, you can gently and kind-heartedly ask yourself, "When has it been enough?" Feel into when you have experienced a sense of contentment, ease, or spaciousness. You might even ask yourself, "When will it be enough?"

In this way, renunciation can be a movement of the heart towards more clarity, greater happiness, spaciousness, and confidence. It is a path that truly supports our movement towards greater freedom and ease. Of course, it also supports how we live on this planet and with others, decreasing the amount of harm that we might do. The practice of renunciation simplifies our lives, but it is also a way we support others indirectly in ways we may never know. May this practice of renunciation be for the benefit not only of ourselves but for countless others, as we consume less and discover the sparks of joy that are possible with less. Thank you.