Found an old travel article about the super-rich “pushing the boundaries of luxury.” In one example, a man threw a birthday party for his wife and 30 of her friends. Twenty vintage cars were imported to the South of France, a public road was closed so they could all rally through the vineyards and, at a pit stop, snack on something prepared by her favourite chef flown in from Los Angeles. Afterwards a luxury yacht for a weeklong cruise. Price tag: 2.5 million. Other examples: a private island with villa and servants for $165,000/day, a presidential hotel suite at $18,500/night, or a four-hour private jet rides for 7 at $11,000. Anything so that rich people don’t have “to deal with the petty annoyances the rest of us must content with.”
Easy to poke fun at … but what of my wanting, having, and holding? How many meditation bells do I need to own, when all that’s needed is one clang at a time? How often do I need to re-tell the stories of childhood hardships, only to stir up hurt and resentment? Why lament ‘old age’ because of arthritis in the knee, when the rest is working remarkably well? How many clever words, when “yes” and “no” and “thank you” would suffice?
Zen teacher Dogen (Japan, 1200-1253) points to clinging and desire and their cousins frustration and disappointment. And how releasing the former can free us from the latter. The first awakening is to have few desires, he writes, the second to know when enough is enough.
I want, I want , I want….
and what is it your heart wants most?
Peter, I so appreciate this post. I was just noticing of late how little I desire to speak words that seem so unnecessary just to fill the air space of some conceived politeness. So beautiful when something breaks and after a moment of disappointment joy and gratitude take over. One less thing to cling to.