Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice: Part 4

One Bite at a Time 

"How do you eat an elephant?"

One bite at a time.

(I guess a vegan alternative might be, "How do you climb Mount Everest?" "One step at a time.")

Anyone who has had to move house knows this. Anyone who has completed a Ph.D. knows this. Some jobs just seem too big and overwhelming.  The only way to tackle them is one small task at a time.

Because we can take one step. One bite. Then one more. Then one more.

Some of my clients have whole boxes of stuff they cannot deal with. Years of unanswered mail, unread magazines, containers of screws and push-pins and paperclips and weird things, piles of detritus all sit in boxes or bags dumped somewhere out of sight and then forgotten. Once boxed, they never get processed. This means they never leave the system. They sit in the space, blocking freer movement.

Image credits Creator:bmarinic

Like unprocessed traumas or relationships that ended with poor or unsatisfying closure, these piles of unprocessed possessions block up space that might otherwise be available for something we value more. They don't just take up physical space, they take up mental and emotional space too.  Every time we see that box or bag we are reminded of our inability to deal with whatever it is.

What I often observe in myself when I have to sit down with a pile of hard-to-process stuff is that I get overwhelmed. Even when I sit down with a clear head and resolve and a can-do attitude, the very first item I grab can land me in quick-sand.  

"Oh yes!" I think to myself. "There was a reason I never put this away."
It is waiting for an answer from someone.
I simply didn't know if it was important, and if so, where it should be stored.
I didn't know how to let it go.

There is something about the stuff that bogs me down and is keeping it all in limbo.

(Ugh. I get a stomach ache just thinking about this stuff.)

Because I get stuck, I quit, and the pile sits there and grows.  And I ignore it because pushing through those unanswerable questions is just too hard. It isn't any fun.  It rarely feels rewarding.

However, I don't experience overwhelm with a client's stuff. It feels good to sit with a client and ask clarifying questions that help them know what to do. It feels good perhaps because I am offering something I wished I could have had myself.  In fact, helping clients find solutions to their roadblocks often helps me have more insights into getting through my own.

One bite at a time. 

I am helping a client dig out from physical and emotional traumas and multiple deaths in her immediate family. She has been overwhelmed for many years and is finally getting the help she has always deserved. She had several boxes worth of swept-aside mail and paperwork when we started. 

One bite at a time, we got through all but one big box. Much of the mail has emotional ties that make it harder for her to process.  Letters of condolence. Hospital bills. A death certificate. 

We turn over a paper and under it is a picture of her brother who died, and we stop. She talks and she cries. She talks some more. I let her process the feelings as much as she needs. Only when she is ready do we pick up the next thing.

This client was so overwhelmed that we made a commitment to start each session with one hour of paperwork. She was freshest in the morning.  Plus there was a known stopping time.  We didn't have to finish all of the paperwork; we just had to stick at it for one hour. Then we'd close the box, tidy up any loose bits (follow-through) and move on to easier things.  You can bet this was WORK. You can bet that her sitting with all those feelings and my witnessing with compassion and patience all that grief was a spiritual practice.

It took several sessions, but we got through all of it.  ALL OF IT.  The box is empty now.

Her home is finally the safe, clean haven she has deserved for several years.  It took patience. It took persistence. And it took faith that it could be done.

My parents' house was full of stacks of things. Mom called them "horrible heaps". One of my jobs, when I was cleaning for my parents, was to straighten up those stacks.  I just thought it was a normal thing to have stacks of paperwork everywhere in the house. I was too young to wonder what these things were or if it was necessary to have them all over the place. They were things that grown-ups had. Everywhere. All the time.  

But I know now that not all grown-ups have piles of stuff everywhere.  Lots of grownups figure out how to deal with that part adulting and manage it well. And for those who struggle with it, there are folks like me, who need to earn a living too, and who love to help.

Because cleaning up and helping each other get through burdens and hard places is absolutely a spiritual practice.

For the other entries in this series, see below.

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 1

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 2

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 3

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 2

Releasing

A spiritual practice is an activity undertaken on a regular basis for the purpose of inducing spiritual insights and encouraging spiritual growth.

So ... clutter clearing ... as a spiritual practice?

It can be.

Think about it:

Clutter clearing invites us to release things.

I have seen three things that block us from releasing things back into the universe: 

1. A sense of responsibility for the item.

2. The fear that one might need or use the item in the future. And
3. obligation or sentimental attachment to the item.

1) A sense of responsibility

Some clients have trouble releasing items because they want to know what will happen once they are out of their keeping. There is a sense of responsibility to see that the items "get into a good home" or are otherwise properly cared for. (This is admirable, but too often is harming the client's ability to get free.)  

The spiritual practice asked of these clients is TRUST. Can we trust that the universe (God/Providence) will get the item to its proper place? Can we let go of feeling responsible for the item's future (without any shame or self-doubt?)  Can we let go of worry about the item, setting it and ourselves free, and trusting that all will be well? 

2) The fear that one might need the item in the future.
Some clients have trouble releasing items because they are uncertain whether they might need the item in the future. There is an unwillingness to let go of even long-unused items in case they want it later.

The spiritual practice asked of these clients is also TRUST. Can we trust that the universe will provide what we need when we need it? In this abundant culture, with flea markets and Amazon and community swaps and Freecycling, can we believe that we could probably find just the thing we need in the future, should the need arise? 

"Then Jesus asked them, 'When I sent you out without a purse, bag or sandals, did you lack for anything?'  'Nothing,' they answered.  Luke 22:35

3) obligation or sentimental attachment to the item.
There is nothing wrong with having a sentimental attachment to our possessions. It isn't so good if the attachment begins to dominate what is best for us. Sometimes we have items we do not enjoy but feel unable to release due to their origins.  Perhaps something was a gift from a loved one or belonged to an ancestor, and letting it go feels uncomfortable, even though we don't actually want it.

The spiritual practice in relation to sentiment and obligation is "saucha."  Saucha is a word from Sanskrit which means a purity of focus or clarity of vision. Saucha pulls us back to our core self. When we are grounded in our core, we can discern most clearly what serves us spiritually.   Items of sentiment and obligation can be the most sticky and difficult to release. Yet in our deepest core, we know that we don't need to remain attached to anything physical for our wellbeing.

Rarely do we have to endure the loss of all our most treasured possessions.  Only those in massive fires or earthquakes, or refugees from war and famine, may suffer the loss everything they own.  However, it is a healthy practice to be willing to release everything that burdens us or stands in the way of our best life.

When it comes to items we hold due to obligation we must ask ourselves, "Would I want someone I love to carry around something they no longer need or use simply because they fear to hurt my feelings?" If our answer is "No," we must trust our friends and loved ones to be as wise. Let it go! (I don't want anyone to feel obliged to hold on to some unneeded item just to protect my fragile ego. God willing, my ego is far more resilient than that.)

The preceding are just a few examples of how clutter clearing invites us to do spiritual work. Try it, and you may find that the regular examining and releasing of physical items can help you feel clearer and lighter in non-physical ways too.

To be continued.

For the other entries in this series, see below.

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 1

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 3

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 1

Too Much Stuff

I have been clutter-clearing since I was a teenager, probably since I was born.

I have been a professional clutter-clearer since 2002.

My mentor clutter clearer told me that 90% of my job would be counseling.

She told me that my clients' biggest challenge would be shame---shame over having so much stuff, shame over the stuff being "out of control", and shame over the apparent inability to deal with it.

She was right.

I don't think the shame is deserved---not at all. In fact, I think it is part of the problem.

But in a culture increasingly ready to call someone a "hoarder", it takes extra courage to ask for help. I admire my clients for that. It takes courage to face a problem for which we are ashamed (unjustly). It takes a certain spiritual maturity to be ready to sort the old from the new, the broken from the whole, the no-longer-needed from the necessary.

Our north-american culture has an overabundance of STUFF.  We get gifts and give gifts all the time. Then we feel obliged to keep them. And everywhere we go, someone is trying to sell us something new, or cute, or something that will magically fix our life, and we fall for it.  Again and again.

When we open our mailbox, stuff pours out. Most often it is advertising---special offers and discounts on things we might need, or feel we might need, or read, or use...some day....

Our culture inundates us with stuff. And who has the time to sort and decide about it all? So we set it aside "for later," into another pile of stuff we intend to get to "when we have time."

The bigger the space we have, the more likely it is to fill up with stuff that we intend to get to. It happens faster than we can imagine.

Yet every client I have helped is NORMAL. Because we all have this struggle in our culture, and only a few of us have the time, AND energy, AND mindset to keep continuously processing all that stuff OUT again.

I have needed help with my stuff, so I do not judge. I am an expert due to a lifetime of necessity. Most recently I had to downsize from a three-bedroom home to about 100 sq. ft. (To move in with my college sweetheart who had a fully furnished 400 sq. ft. unit in Manhattan.) It was HARD. It hurt! But it was worth it. I survived. In fact, I'm thriving.

But still, clutter-clearing as a spiritual practice?

Oh yes.

Read on....

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 2

Clutter Clearing as a Spiritual Practice - Part 3

Beauty in Breakdown - a sermon

Beauty in the Breakdown

Rev. Alison Longstaff, March 16, 2014

Bath Church of the New Jerusalem

2 Samuel 7:1-7, 11b -13, and Mark 13:1-8; HS 8165:2

(these readings are found at the end of the sermon)

In Swedenborgian theology, we believe that the Bible contains the story of each person’s spiritual journey from first awakening through to full enlightenment and integration. 

Among other things it tells the story of every stage of our relationship with God in great detail.  I truly love this way of understanding the Bible.  The more I study the Scriptures through this lens, the more beauty and compassion I find in its pages. 

You may already know all this, being in George Dole’s congregation, but let me review it anyway.  It begins in Eden, a garden with a tree of life and a big river, and all sorts of good fruits to eat.  We begin in a garden—a garden with only one way out and no going back once we leave—like the womb, like the innocence of early childhood.  There follows a lot of grief and bloodshed, magic and miracles, mistakes and renewals in the middle of the story, and then it ends in the Holy City, the New Jerusalem.  What a ride!

Now, the Hebrew Testament describes our spiritual birth and childhood years. It then progresses through our adolescent years, with our struggle to find identity and a spiritual presence.  Then it moves to the more settled years of young adulthood, still with struggles and battles, but with a “landed” identity.  Then there is a time of relative peace, (“relative” is in italics) under King David.  Finally we reach a pinnacle in King Solomon—whose wisdom was renowned around the world.  King Solomon who had wealth and fame and many, many wives.

I don’t know about you, but in my upbringing, it was King Solomon’s reign that was the pinnacle of the Hebrew Testament.  He had ALL the answers: “The wisdom of Solomon.”  Solomon was IT.  Solomon had arrived.  In fact, after his story, it is all rather down-hill, and nobody addressed that part in my childhood.  I guess the assumption was that we would get to the Solomon phase spiritually and not let things all slide after that.

But if the Biblical arc is the story of each person’s spiritual journey from first awakening through to full enlightenment and integration, how can Solomon’s reign truly be the pinnacle?  If so, our spiritual story is that we peak early, and then gradually become corrupted, broken, and lost. And everything after that is an attempt to regain what was lost and patch up what was broken. Well, that’s depressing!  Maybe we need to take a deeper look.  What else might Solomon’s story be illustrating in the human psyche? 

In our reading from 2 Samuel, we hear a conversation between God and King David.  David is living in a stone and wood house, and declares to God that he wants to build a stone and wood house for God too.  And what is God’s answer?  Do you remember?  God says, “I have not dwelt in a house from the day I brought the Israelites up out of Egypt to this day. I have been moving from place to place with a tent as my dwelling. Wherever I have moved with all the Israelites, did I ever say to any of their rulers whom I commanded to shepherd my people Israel, ‘Why have you not built me a house of cedar?'”

God’s response is essentially, “No thank you.  This whole tent thing has really worked for me.”  God doesn't want a stone and wood house.  He does tell David that Solomon will build him a temple, but he never says he wants it, simply that that is what Solomon will do.

Think about it.  When God’s house is a tent, it is right down among the people.  It travels to where it is needed most.  It is designed to be taken down, moved, and set up again.  It is flexible.  Soft.  Not rigid.  It goes to the people where they are.  There is no security of place, perhaps, but in exchange for that security, it moves, lives, and meets the people where they are.  It is humble.

Once a temple is built, the place of worship is well, literally set in stone.  From that moment on, the practice of Israelitish worship changed profoundly.  The priesthood no longer went to the people; the people had to come to the priesthood.  Worshipers, no matter how far away they lived nor how poor they were, were expected to travel to the temple location in southernmost Canaan to worship “properly.”  The center of worship no longer moved around among the people according to God’s leadership, it was locked down to one place, and under the priesthood’s leadership. 

Because of this, worship inevitably became about the place and the building itself, not about the living, moving God.  The temple itself and its rituals became what was sacred.  In fact, when the temple was eventually torn down, the people no longer knew who they were, nor how to follow God without the temple.  This is a common spiritual story, yes?  When we are sure we have IT—when we think we have “arrived”—we stop learning. Religious certainty brings arrogance, self-centeredness, spiritual laziness, and a disconnection from reliance on the living God.

This inner shift happens every time we let rituals and habits and external customs replace or serve as a substitute for conscious, loving, attentive faith.  It is when law takes over from gospel. It is when formulaic answers take over from thoughtful reflection.  It reflects the times and ways we get attached to our traditions and “the way things have always been” and the familiar comforting faces, and we stop hearing how God might be calling us to welcome the stranger and be open to new spiritual life. 

Physically and metaphorically, stones provide security and power.  Stones make great foundations.  (And they are great for hurling at other folks, though perhaps that is not what we are meant to do with them.)  Stones are just what we need to keep from being washed away in a flood or blown away in a wind-storm.  But stones are not flexible.  They are not easily moved.  And they make lousy tents.  They are like bones—essential for support, but never meant to replace flexible, living muscles.

What follows almost immediately upon completion of the Temple in the Biblical story arc is division, corruption, breakdown and collapse, disintegration and death.  The final stories in the Old Testament are all about the loss of integrity in the Davidic line, the steady, systematic destruction of the great kingdom of Israel, and the eventual exile of what was left of the Israelitish nation into Babylon.  Bit by bit, Israel loses its center until finally the temple itself is destroyed.  We are left with stories of exile, and pages and pages of prophetic wailing.

 

Psalm 137 “By the rivers of Babylon, There we sat down, yea, we wept when we remembered Zion.” 

“Zion” is a metaphor for Jerusalem, for the temple, and the whole land of Israel.  In our personal lives Zion represents the center of all in which we have built our trust.  The center of our hopes and dreams.  The center of our universe.  Our spiritual and emotional foundation.  When we place our trust in something that is not spiritual, it is inevitable that it will let us down.

The building, the grandeur, and the eventual fall of the temple hold a metaphor about our spiritual journey.  It is the story of the destruction of inflexible, non-inclusive spiritual attitudes in the human race, and in each human heart.  God allows us to build these inflexible doctrines and beliefs in our hearts if we insist.  We do love security! But God cannot allow us to continue in such rigidity, or all that is truly spiritual in us will die.  Though the Hebrew Testament ends here, it is not the end of the story.  It is time for a paradigm shift.  In our spiritual hearts, the stone temples we have built must fall in order to set the stage for “Jesus” to come.  God incarnate, living, breathing, and walking beside us with a voice and a heartbeat wants to enter our story.  For the living God to come, the old and the rigid must be broken down.

God never commands us to build a “temple.”  God prefers to live in our hearts in a tent.  It is we who crave the certainty, the stability, and the … well, laziness we can relax into once we set our beliefs in stone—once we make church about membership standards or what people should believe—about buildings and rules, about in and out, about the right people and the wrong people.  We do this.  Humans do this with religion. It is so comfortable!  And individually, we all tend to cycle through phases of this in our own journey as well.  That is why this story is in the Bible.  We don’t have to do this, but most of us do do this at some time or another. 

We find this metaphor even within our human bodies.   Born soft and full of cartilage, with skull bones that float over the surface of our brains, we begin to harden from the moment of birth.  We ossify.  Much of this is necessary, or we would be too vulnerable and our bones would be too soft to support our weight when we stand. But we continue to stiffen and become increasingly rigid if we do not steadily work at our fitness and flexibility.  Unless we make an effort, we will relentlessly devolve into spiritual and physical gristle and bone.

Keeping our physical muscles fully flexible means we must constantly work to break down the adhesions and small strips of scar tissue that inevitably build up within them.  The breakdown of those hardening tissues can be pretty uncomfortable at times.  But the breakdown is necessary if we are to continue to choose a full and flexible life.  (Can you tell I do yoga?) This is true spiritually too.  Individually and as a congregation, it can sometimes be uncomfortable—it can even hurt a little—to do the stretching and moving we need to do to stay vibrantly alive as a spiritual community.  What were once dreams too easily settle into old patterns and habits.  Those old habits and patterns will get in the way of our growth if we do not regularly reexamine, renew, and revitalize our traditions and practices, attitudes and ideas.

In the face of any pain, the human tendency is to clench and to resist, not relax.  We often hold our breath. Letting go is the last thing we feel inclined to do.  But whenever we can breathe more deeply and let go just a little, we find relief and growth.  A few more fibers ease up.  A joint creaks open another fraction.  In fact we find increasing ease of movement and joy in living when we repeatedly expose ourselves to any intentional growth discipline. Despite the occasional discomfort, it is SO good for us to keep moving, be it through a yoga class or spiritual growth group, through running or Bible Study, swimming or psychotherapy.

The breaking down of our attachments can really hurt.  But it is necessary.  And according to the Bible, it is breaking ground for something better.

You see, the arc of the Bible ends in the Holy City.  It is a city with twelve gates, all open wide, where everyone can enter and no one need leave.  And look! the tree of life is right there in the center, and so is the River, and there are all sorts of wonderful fruits to eat….  It is as if we never really left Eden at all.  Or maybe Eden was the foretaste or promise of what awaits us at the end of our journey. Maybe God has had a plan all along. 

Are you struggling with dying dreams and stiffening hopes?  Just let go.  Breathe.  Trust. God may be breaking down your dying tissues so that you can live again.  Remember, the Temple must come down for Jesus to be born.  And the loss of Jesus leads to the Holy City.  So just let go. You don’t need to know what is being broken down nor what is coming next.  Just keep breathing.  Keep showing up, and keep letting go.  There really is beauty in the breakdown.

Revised from a sermon preached Aug 22, 2010

Musical interlude was the following:

Daniel Nahmod: “I Don’t Need To Know”

When things go wrong, it's natural to wonder  

What celestial rule did I break?  

When things go right, it’s logical to ponder  

What credit can I take?  

But the truth is so much easier  

I don't need a master plan  

I can live here in the moment  

'Cause my life is in good hands  

  

(chorus)  

I don't need to know where the wind blows 

'Cause God knows 

I don't need to know what the future holds 

'Cause God knows 

I need never know how pain ends 

How my heart mends 

I can just let go 

'Cause God knows   

But still I find I'm crying out for answers  

Guess I'm still craving control  

And still I find I'm afraid of taking chances  

As if I could damage my soul  

But at this moment, I remember  

It comes so clear to me  

That the minute I surrender  

I'm as safe as I could be  

  (chorus)

The Readings 

2 Samuel 7:1-7, 11b -13

When King David was settled in his palace and the Lord had given him rest from all the surrounding enemies, ² the king summoned Nathan the prophet. “Look,” David said, “I am living in a beautiful cedar palace, but the Ark of God is out there in a tent!”

³ Nathan replied to the king, “Go ahead and do whatever you have in mind, for the Lord is with you.”

⁴ But that same night the Lord said to Nathan,

⁵ “Go and tell my servant David, ‘This is what the Lord has declared: Are you the one to build a house for me to live in? ⁶ I have never lived in a house, from the day I brought the Israelites out of Egypt until this very day. I have always moved from one place to another with a tent and a Tabernacle as my dwelling. ⁷ Yet no matter where I have gone with the Israelites, I have never once complained to Israel’s tribal leaders, the shepherds of my people Israel. I have never asked them, “Why haven’t you built me a beautiful cedar house?”’

“‘Furthermore, the Lord declares that he will make a house for you—a dynasty of kings! ¹² For when you die and are buried with your ancestors, I will raise up one of your descendants, your own offspring, and I will make his kingdom strong. ¹³ He is the one who will build a house—a temple—for my name. And I will secure his royal throne forever.

Mark 13: 1-8

13 As Jesus was leaving the Temple that day, one of his disciples said, “Teacher, look at these magnificent buildings! Look at the impressive stones in the walls.”

² Jesus replied, “Yes, look at these great buildings. But they will be completely demolished. Not one stone will be left on top of another!”

³ Later, Jesus sat on the Mount of Olives across the valley from the Temple. Peter, James, John, and Andrew came to him privately and asked him, ⁴ “Tell us, when will all this happen? What sign will show us that these things are about to be fulfilled?”

⁵ Jesus replied, “Don’t let anyone mislead you, ⁶ for many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am the Messiah.’ They will deceive many. ⁷ And you will hear of wars and threats of wars, but don’t panic. Yes, these things must take place, but the end won’t follow immediately. ⁸ Nation will go to war against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in many parts of the world, as well as famines. But this is only the first of the birth pains, with more to come.

Heavenly Secrets 8165:2 Each person's power is limited, and when temptation stretches you to the absolute limit of your power, and you cannot stand up to anything further, you let go and begin to fall. Only then, when you have let go and started to fall, can the Lord catch you, lift you up, and deliver you from your despair. Frequently a person is then brought into a clear state of hope and comfort, and even into a state of bliss. Swedenborg,