On the Abuse of the Senses
As I write this post, contractors are banging and sawing on the west side of my house. I started out the day working right next to the banging. As a creature of habit I was reluctant to move my laptop and my body away from where I normally work. Then I remembered the Ayurvedic wisdom that one of the main causes of disease is the misuse or abuse of the senses. So, I collected my stuff and moved as far away in my house from the noise as I could. And I immediately felt better.
We’re conditioned from the time we’re born to put up will all kinds of unpleasantness. Needles, beatings, exams, canned spinach, kisses from relatives with bad breath, air pollution, hateful authority figures, sickness, taxes, and death, and so on. Somewhere along the way, we start to think that pain and suffering are unavoidable. In the 8os, the saying “life’s a bitch and then you die” was ubiquitous. Whole religions—including scientism—are built around that notion. But suffering and self-flagellation and the belief that we’re all a bunch of guilty sinners—how are those beliefs helping anyone other than the people trying to make money off our feelings of brokenness? Why would we choose to suffer when we can opt out?
In the example I started the post with, I was a blind fool to stay in a space where the banging made my body lurch and my head hurt, and I was my own savior when I realized that I was free and then got up and moved to a better place. That was a simple choice. Health is all about realizing that we have choices and then making the better choice again and again.
Moving away from noise is a clear example. But what about listening to the news? Are we required to watch footage of war and school shootings? Are we required to suffer to prove our solidarity with those who are suffering? If so, how are we helping anyone? We are certainly not helping ourselves. If I read the stories and watch the videos, I traumatize myself, and to what end? I already know that war is horrible. I’m not learning anything new, and I’m certainly not saving lives.
Rather than judging and condemning the war outside of me, my energy will be better spent trying to quell the discord inside of me. If there is war within me, if I cannot honestly say that I love and forgive everyone, then I am contributing to war in the world around me. It doesn’t matter what else we say or do. And none of us is exempt from self-examination. Some of the most self-righteous and judgmental people I know are yoga teachers. They’re not engaging in overt violence, but neither are they contributing to a happier world. Their own lives are uninspiring and dry. I don’t want cold distant “peace.” I want juiciness.
The antidote to all this dry and dispiriting judgmental war-porn imbibing b.s. is to take care of ourselves. Instead of abusing the senses, we can nurture them. Ayurveda shows us how in a hundred different ways. It’s hard to hate others when you’re massaging your naked body with warm herbed sesame oil. It’s hard to judge others when you’re nourishing the body with warm, moist, delicious, perfectly spiced food made with love. It’s hard to care whether or not anyone thinks you’re a guilty sinner when you are soaking in an epsom salt bath scented with lavender essential oil. In this world of fear-mongering, the most radical and loving thing we can do is to take care of ourselves. When we take care of ourselves, we are taking care of all of humanity, all of nature, and creating a more beautiful and peaceful world, one choice at a time. Because we are a microcosm of ALL that.
So as I turn from the banging on my own western wall, I put headphones on and play beautiful music; I sip golden tea; and I write something meaningful to me. Because what we make of this life is as good as it gets. Life is not a bitch. And it’s not a dress rehearsal or a test.
Life is a gift.
