Picture: Vor dem Café (Berlin bei Nacht) by Lesser Ury
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Do you really need it? Will you honour it?
These are the questions that I’ve been indirectly asking myself these cold autumn days while walking into the warmth of art shops. I love art, and I can’t help but notice, in myself, that consumerist society has taught us to treat everything as if it were to buy and keep – or throw. Buying something means that you’re going to make use of it in the near or distant future. For example, I’ve been a book stasher for most of my University years, and of all those attractive books, I might have positively read 30%. In the last few years, I’ve questioned many of my compulsive behaviours and slowly developed a higher degree of awareness. The other day, I went to a frame and print shop in Edinburgh, Scotland, and was very attracted by some art postcards, checked the price, and considered buying. Afterwards, I started doing what I would normally do in museums or galleries: I observed the painting without mental labels; first the whole picture, then the details. Therefore, I chose to not buy any of those beautiful cards. However, and here’s the trickiest part of contemporary lifestyle, I saved their details on my smartphone – as if the paintings were going to die if I didn’t! – for future use or appreciation. I understand that I could use those details to share the paintings with friends or on social media, thus adding value to these people. However, I believe we have to be very aware of the energy behind our actions. Only through presence, and therefore awareness, do we achieve a powerful level of freedom in our choices. We can shift our unconscious intention – usually stemming from the constant dissatisfaction of the compulsive side of our mind – into a more selfless or creative one. The desire to possess, accumulate, keep, or save for ourselves emanates from an illusory state of lack: our egoic identity deludes itself into believing that it needs more stuff in order to survive.
I obviously didn’t need to possess those prints and attach them to the wall to appreciate them. Probably, I didn’t even need to save their details on my web browser. In the present moment, the only moment where we can actually enact any sort of behavior, I have the chance to merge with them, to enjoy them in contemplation, naturally recognizing that I don’t need to possess any beauty in order to commune with it.
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Herons