Modern Ascetic part II

Practice serves as my pathway to nurturing less exploitative relationships. We are in a constant state of practice, and over time, these habits mold our very essence. Take, for instance, the practice of buying less; it cultivates my essentialist mindset, rendering me more resilient and propelling me toward a more meaningful future. I firmly believe that my practice of restraint from acquiring unnecessary possessions is shaping me into the person I aspire to be.

But, what does my practice of “buying” actually achieve for me? Initially, it offers a fleeting sense of gratification, yet it also drains my financial resources, perpetuating my dependence on a substantial income.

While I recognize that individual purchasing choices cannot single-handedly resolve systemic global challenges, I acknowledge my place within “the system.” By modifying my relational patterns, I create a potential ripple effect, paving the way for others to contemplate changing their own patterns. How can I expect Jeff Bezos to decline a yacht when I can’t even resist a laminator? The environmental consequences may differ, but the psycho-spiritual thirst for “more” remains constant.

So, what is my practice concerning “buying”? I’ve oscillated between impulsive buying and more deliberate consumption. “Buying less” is a straightforward approach often advocated by sustainability enthusiasts and minimalists, and for many, it is likely effective. Yet, for me, it seems more of a reactionary response to excessive consumption. It doesn’t appear to answer the question: what do I truly want or need to purchase? Rather, it becomes a reflex response, a battle of restraint, or perhaps even a form of financial stagnation where I hoard my money. If done without thoughtful consideration, abruptly curtailing my spending may result in an eventual rebound, where I buy even more than before, or I may secretly envy those who continue thoughtless shopping, all while I berate them and grumble about their choices.

So, what alternative practice can replace this behavior?

I’m drawn to the concept of the modern ascetic, as described by John von Büffel. In contrast to the traditional ascetic, the modern ascetic isn’t solely focused on having less but strives to desire only what is essential. As he puts it:

“The ascetic of the future does not renounce; He detaches himself from the unimportant; His ‘renunciation’ is a liberation.”

Indeed, this philosophy resonates with me. It establishes a deeper connection with the more-than-human world. At times, it might mean indulging in things that others deem unimportant. Yet only I can truly discern what holds importance. To practice detachment from the unimportant, I must first discern what is genuinely significant to me. It can encompass both what I desire and what I require. Distinguishing what I need is relatively straightforward—healthy food, meaningful relationships, a place to call home, and all that sustains my physical well-being (research underscores the importance of good relationships for health, much like the harm of smoking). However, determining whether what I want holds genuine significance is a far more complex task. The practice, then, revolves around mastering the art of distinguishing my true priorities. When I apply this practice to the laminator, it becomes abundantly clear that it falls into the category of the unimportant.