Thursday, April 23, 2015

The Spiritual Path of...

Collecting

My room is like an antique shop, full of junk and weird stuff. There's a big sword in there. And a taxidermy bird, and a couple of bird cages. And a lot of newspaper cuttings...”
Florence Welch (of Florence and the Machine)

Operating a eBay store is quite a novel experience. The stuff I list and ship is not mine, but belongs to my son and his partner at What's On 2nd, a funky little shop downtown. One of the things I shipped this week was a four-foot-tall solid brass lamp with crystal bangles they said was from the “Early Bordello” period. It looked like it, believe me. I am often blown away by what people buy and what they collect. Yesterday, for instance, I listed a series of old automobile and motorcycle license plates from the 1920's-1950's. They were rusty, bent, had ragged holes, and, to my mind, looked absolutely worthless. Yet, within an hour someone had spent $80.00 for one and sent a note asking about more.

I gave myself airs, thinking how above this I am...until I looked around the room and saw all the tubs of fabric, spools of thread, jars of fabric dyes, plastic stacks of buttons and beads, and all the other trappings that go with sewing. If I lived to be two hundred, I could never use all this material! I have to adjust my focus and realize that this too is a “collection.”

Collecting stuff is not uncommon in nature. Hamsters and squirrels collect things for their nests, but purposefully—to cool or warm it for little ones. The male satin bower bird collects anything blue—bits of plastic, stones, feathers—because the more blue he weaves into his nest, the more females he attracts. Crows and ravens are notorious for collecting things; stealing them, really. They even play coy games that involve hiding their loot in the presence of other members of their clan. Sound familiar?

I believe we collect because it gives us pleasure and creates a sense of home. We know, in the rational part of our minds, that a room full of junk does not provide security, but somehow, it uniquely reflects us. It is an identifier of who we are. As crazy as it sounds, we are soul-connected to “our stuff,” even if that stuff is old, rusty motorcycle tags. To say it's in our genes to hunt and gather goes all the way back to original human beings. It connects us with those forebears at an older, deeper, non-thinking part of the brain—the one we share with the bower birds, and hamsters and ravens.

                                                                              In the Spirit,


                                                                                   Jane

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