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The mandala of our mind is inhabited by familiar objects we use daily.
New objects appear which we acquaint ourselves with regularly and familiar objects often fade and are forgotten.
Change characterizes our being and of course the relationship with the things that inhabit our lives. Our relationship with things is often masked by change. Some noticing this have found it difficult to toss out a favorite coat or hat or other item that we can unfailingly choose without a lingering doubt.
Things though inanimate can seem to speak to us in an appealing way solely due to the relationship we have with them. They can seem akin to some of our best friends. Indeed, we may not feel comfortable without a particular coffee cup, rocking chair, or pillow, when at home, for these things may be exactly what being at home means to us.
It is of course the relationship that is interesting. Things have no mind to appreciate us as we do them, yet they may seem to our unreflective mind to. That may of course be part of the appeal for play and pretend is a rather embedded disposition to human consciousness, subconsciously always present, and often quite consciously evoked. It is this pliancy of mind that makes it possible to regard the material world as a friendly world. Where this pliancy that allows play and pretend is scarce our world can seem like an alien land and we alone and intimidated.
Dissatisfaction with our world of objects occurs where a sense of pleasure derived from using them is absent. If this leads to replacing objects, it is likely the replacements will also be rejected. If we allow it to go on, the world will become foreign to us and frightening. But, our world is a world of people as well as things, and we notice each other’s wrong turns better than we can realize our own because of the perspective distance affords. Here, a few well-placed words from a friend spoken with warmth can provide the healing guidance we need in a timely way.
It is quite a curious phenomenon when we consider how we can give ourselves to a relationship with people and things almost as if they were of equal status. We can see ourselves forming attachment to wealth, cars, and homes as readily as the people in our lives; but of course one can reciprocate and one cannot. Yet, we can easily imagine cuddling up with a book before dozing off to sleep with considerable anticipation and joy. Or relaxing on a late afternoon listening to music while wakefulness fades into sleep. Or, waking up to a brand-new day with a cold shower. We do have relationships with things much as we do with people.
When it comes to our objects of worship it is believed by many that they acquire shakti (spiritual power) increasingly through the use we make of them. Ritual objects we purchase, rosaries, for example, become more expensive when they show the signs of ample mantra recitation, and Buddha statues and the host of gods and goddesses too, when seasoned with obvious devotional use, whether from a home or temple, also become pricey, if not priceless. And, most important of all, we feel the character almost by default when we enter sanctified grounds or see antique and hallowed ritual items.
We, however, have no reason to seek fine images and ritual items unless we are collectors.
Our shrine room or meditation room objects will attract us to them, to sit in their presence regardless of being new or old, fine or ordinary, in accordance with the use we make of them. I am quite knowledgeable of fine ritual objects and have owned many, but one of my favorite is an extremely homely Buddha, poorly cast, and painted with gold paint rather than the traditional gold gilded. It was brought over as a gift from a Tibetan monk and by chance a reincarnate lama arrived shortly after for an informal visit. What timing! The monk giving me the gift requested the tulku to consecrate it, which he did right there and then, with all the proper ritual prayers and so forth. The humble monk was beaming with joy.
So, immediately this ordinary gift shop statue was sanctified. The point is that in a sense our Buddha statues and other imagery become sanctified through use. And it will seem reciprocal. The statue, though a material object, can become like “family” and we will feel pulled to spend time with it as our devotion becomes stronger. Spending time with our Buddha can become as valued and as much looked forward to as spending time with our best friend.
If it isn’t we must ask: “Is my Buddha lonely?”
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