THE COSMIC HUMOR is not lost on me as I begin this topic, for I have just begun a several-day fast of warm broth and water. It’s too early in the process to actually be hungry, but it is never too early in the process for the monkey mind to begin obsessing over the prospect of possible
future
hunger.
Upon hearing of the concept of Hungry Ghost, I have found the ideas so accurately descriptive and on the mark as to how, in our human mind, we are so similar to a hungry ghost that can never be satisfied.
Consider the image of artist Edvard Munch’s
The Scream
with the tiny oval mouth that does not open. The ghostly figure is famished, starving with no means of receiving nourishment, satisfaction or fulfillment of any kind.
As a minister for more than twenty-eight years, I have made many a house call visiting recuperating or ill or elderly congregants. Years ago the awareness came to me that in seeing how one lived—what their homes and cars looked like inside and how they interacted with family—told me volumes that perhaps would not have emerged after years of counseling. I have entered homes, from humble dwellings to mansions, packed with massive amounts of “stuff.” I have been invited into rooms that were only narrow pathways in which to traverse the clutter, which included the unopened boxes of toasters, slow cookers, coffeepots and domed hair dryers and on and on.
On a recent visit to New York City to study with the Dalai Lama, I left RCM Hall late one afternoon. Thousands of attendees poured out onto Sixth Avenue, many attempting to hail taxis. Since it was a bright, warm autumn day, I decided to walk over to Fifth Avenue to try my luck at getting a cab there. Well, lo and behold, what was at the corner but Saks Fifth Avenue! Needless to say, I had to go in. I always like to balance my spiritual nirvana with a tiny dose of samsara.
I headed directly to the famous new shoe department I had seen on the TV news. It’s so large it has its own zip code, if you can only imagine. It was a Saturday mob scene. One would have thought Saks was giving away these shoes, instead of charging prices that ranged from expensive to stratospheric.
I sat on a low bench to take a breather and just observe the frenetic scene when a very young woman approached me. She was tall and stately with beautiful legs that she was attempting to emphasize even more with the elegant stilettos she wore. She asked for my help. Should she buy the plain leather pumps for $400 or the gray snakeskin ones for $875? As gently as possible I—who own many pairs of shoes—explained to her that just minutes before I had been with the Dalai Lama at a lecture and couldn’t possibly shift from those teachings and their energy to assist her in choosing between two expensive pairs of shoes. My only advice to this woman of perhaps twenty-two was to ask her to consider how limited would be her opportunities to wear the more expensive of the two pairs of shoes. The black pumps would at least serve her better and longer. She pondered my advice for a moment . . . and then bought the more expensive pair! Ah so.
It is perfectly okay to spend our money as we choose. We just need to remember that stuff, no matter how beautiful or expensive, does not make us happy or define who we really are.
A hungry ghost consciousness is one that can never experience anything as enough—sweets, acknowledgments, possessions, caring, attention—stuff of any description. Recently I saw an article on a wealthy socialite and her closet, which looked like a fine designer shop. She had 350 coats. Now, even if one lived in northern Norway, what could one possibly do with 350 coats? We all need to learn when enough is enough.
Ponder for a moment the mental clutter that must accumulate over ownership of vast numbers of stuff. How does one remember what one owns? It is mentally draining.
Imelda Marcos and her collection of shoes became legendary. If one has the financial means to own 350 coats, or thousands of pairs of shoes, or numerous house, or airplanes, or are able to do whatever one wants with one’s resources, the questions arise: What about their souls? Are their souls satisfied? What are they investing in their souls?
The hungry ghost can never be satisfied but forever attempts satisfaction by accumulating, by grasping, by clinging. Other ways the hungry ghost manifests itself is the inability to release and let go. Accumulating or hoarding eventually makes one miserable, causing oneself to suffer rather than offering pleasure. Such activity offers pain.
There are myriad ways the hungry ghost and her phantom characteristics appear. A hungry ghost is:
• The woman at the holiday gift exchange who always chooses the gift she brought out of fear. She believes that if she left her selection to random choice, it would never be as fine as her own purchase.
• The wealthy matron at a luncheon who wins the table arrangement, but wants the one at the next table because it looks “fuller.”
• The retreatant who, upon receiving blessed beads from the presenter of ancient wisdom, goes from retreatant to retreatant asking to switch beads because she sees that theirs would match her dress better.
• The corporate mogul earning millions of dollars a year who attempts to accumulate even more through deception or fraud.
• The alcoholic who no longer even enjoys a drink, figuring that if one beer goes down easily on a summer night, why not twelve or twenty-four?
• The professional athlete who boasts of having sex with more than a thousand women.
The various addictions that entrap people and their lives all have hungry ghost elements to them: the alcoholic, the drug addict, the sexual addict, the food addict, the love addict, the one addicted to being liked. A common denominator in them all is never feeling satisfied, believing that more of the addictive substance is going to provide the magical lift.
Anne, a friend of mine, experienced several years that were most challenging. Her parents, who were in their nineties, became ill simultaneously, as did her husband, much older than she. Her husband was a most successful financier who lived a “John Wayne, I’m in charge, I can do anything, I can make anything happen” sort of life. A second marriage for both, they lived a lavish lifestyle, jetting between their three multimillion-dollar homes.
Anne’s husband totally controlled the finances, and that was just fine with her. But toward the end of his life she realized that he had left everything in a trust, with Anne receiving only an annual stipend that was less than what they lived on monthly. She felt that she could return to her previous career as a teacher if he died, even though she had been out of circulation for more than twenty years. She thought she should not say anything, and she did not. When in his last hours her husband questioned the trust he had set up years before, she brushed off his concern and said she would be just fine.
When her husband did pass, his attorneys waited only two weeks to approach her and say she needed to get the primary family home ready to go on the market. This was two weeks after her husband died of a lingering, two-year illness, and eight months after the death of her beloved mother. Compassion was absent from the communications.
It was shortly after this occurrence that she learned of a highly recommended psychic who looked at the photo of a deceased loved one and delivered a message to the living person. Anne brought pictures of both her mother and her husband. Instantly the message came from her mother, “Anne, you have to learn when enough is enough.” Anne welled up with tears. These words, this phrase, were the exact words her mother had often spoken to her.
This psychic did not know Anne or her mother. They had never spoken before. Anne does not have a hungry ghost personality. She is giving, gracious and generous, definitely not hungry ghost traits. And yet there was a place of fear expanding in her mind. Would she be okay? Would she have enough resources to carry her into the future and beyond? Subtle, hungry ghost thoughts were rising. Fortunately for Anne, she is aware enough not to water those seed thoughts. Yet her mother’s message from beyond the grave was, “You have to learn when enough is enough.” Anne was quite moved by this message, because it helped her come to the realization that she would always have more than enough to meet her every need, as well as delivering to her the most valuable lesson that those who love you will always love you.
Consider where in your life you have perhaps been living like a hungry ghost, never satisfied, always one with an insatiable appetite. Where are the excesses in your life? It may not be accumulating things, but your excesses may be worry, control, power or wanting to be liked or acknowledged.
When visiting congregants in their homes, I have truly seen it all, from simple Zen perfection to unimaginable clutter. Metaphysical teacher and author Terry Cole-Whittaker has a saying that I just love: “Stuff loves people.” That always comes to mind when I see a home overflowing with stuff. It really makes no difference if it’s expensive, fine stuff or recycled dime store stuff. It is simply too much stuff, too much clutter.
Diane, a friend of mine whom I adore, went through a horrendous divorce where she lost who she thought was her soul mate. She did, however, get to keep all the vast amount of stuff from their 6,000-square-foot home. When she moved into a 2,400-square-foot condominium, all of the accumulated, coordinated, designer-decorated, elegant, expensive stuff came along.
Her new residence looked like a very crowded, high-end furniture store. It was packed to the brim—the walls, the floor, everywhere. There were even sculptures under tables because there was no place else to put them. Diane has always been meticulously neat. Even though her packed house was clean, it was extremely difficult to get from room to room. Nothing could be appreciated because there was so much of everything.
While I was her houseguest for a few days, we talked about what was going on. Diane, a professor, knew this situation was not healthy. But, as she explained, “I’m just not ready to let anything go yet.” She added that when she healed from her divorce, she would.
When we saw each other more than a year later at Christmastime, she told me she had taken many items to a designer resale shop and had a sale at her condo. Also, she packed up one-third of what was left and put it in storage for now, and she would have another purging and sale in the spring.
Diane had wrestled long and hard with the dissolution of her marriage and the dismantling of her very comfortable lifestyle represented by her beautiful things, but now she has at long last found the inner beauty of her soul. She has found peace and is so much happier. She is no longer a hungry ghost.
It is apparent that in society today we can all look within and examine just when “enough is enough.” To do so brings great release and personal freedom. One can then live without being under the strain of constant accumulation and management. Then you have the chance to clear your mind of all the mental baggage and clutter. To know right now that you are already complete, whole and free is enormously liberating.
Outer clutter in one’s life clutters the mind. It is almost impossible to be very effective at mindfulness meditation in the midst of great clutter. Here is a grand technique I heard some folks talking about doing. It sounded great.
First, you need to obtain five or six large, secure boxes with lids. Label each box according to the room you are in. Let’s say you are in your bedroom with the appropriately labeled box. In the room you could have:
1. Picture frames and unframed pictures.
2. Mementos.
3. Sweaters.
4. Unworn or seldom-worn jewelry.
5. Clothes that do not fit.
6. Knickknacks and books.
Set aside several hours and systematically go through all the stuff in the bedroom with the intention of de-cluttering. Look at every single item and ask yourself: Is this piece beneficial to me? Do I need it now in my life? If the answer is yes, put it back in its place. If the answer is no, put it in the “bedroom” box and write what the item is on an index card you can keep in an accessible spot. Go through the entire room, remembering the goal is to de-clutter.
When finished you’ll have your index card(s) that delineate all the contents. Store the box or boxes, go to the next room and repeat the process until you complete your entire home. After one year, decide if you really want or need what’s in those boxes. Keep what you want and sell or give the rest away, circulating your stuff and blessing those who will want it and use it.
I am not suggesting that we divest ourselves of everything we possess externally and internally and go live in a monastery (although at times this idea is tremendously appealing to me, just so long as my husband and our two dogs and one cat can come, too).
I am suggesting that we mentally and soulfully shift from over-consumerism to mindful consumerism, that we realize more is not better, it’s just more, that we realize the fulfillment and satisfaction that we desire already exists within our essence, our core. We become full spirits rather than the old, ghoulish hungry ghost.
We then begin to alleviate our suffering through Right View, Right Thought, Right Effort and Right Mindfulness. In studying Buddhism, it has always been important, as in all my spiritual pursuits, to make the connection between the teaching and the practical, day-to-day living of life.
For these extraordinary teachings to have meaning in your life, you must faithfully apply them to your day-by-day, even moment-by-moment, living. Then the shift happens.
The hungry ghost mentality devours its host. The victim of the hungry ghost must find satisfaction, fulfillment and meaning, not in the hoarding and the clutter, but in removing the obscurations that are blocking the awareness of the divine in us—first from the mind and then in the outer environment.
When we have realized our inner Buddha nature and know that part of ourselves, then we can feel safe enough to begin to let go of our stuff. We then gradually learn a valuable lesson: There is always enough!