When are you leaving?

Okay, okay, I'll see myself out!

“You’re still here? Shouldn’t you be in the Maldives by now?”

It’s become a bit of a constant refrain over the last few weeks.

Let’s rewind to several months ago when I decided to quit my job to pursue a spiritual path. As my notice period was two months (from the end of the month), the earliest I could leave would have been January 1st.

In the end, it takes a little bit to unwind a life. Sure, it’s only been seven years in Berlin, but I have acquired so many things. My flat will remain for a sub-leaser, but all the junk (besides furniture) must go. I also had other decisions to make.

Getting Rid of My Junk

Luckily, it is almost gone. And most of it even found a suitable home. Someone who will treat it with love and respect. Or at least someone who will use it. The goals for getting rid of things, mostly, were:

1. The recipient is taking it not because they want it but because they need it.

2. The recipient will actually use the item.

3. The recipient is helped by the item (physically, mentally, emotionally, practically).

4. The item suits the recipient (the clothing fits them, they mention an interest in something similar, etc.).

I would say I was mostly successful with most of my items. Certainly, some things people took in the spirit of consumption, and I considered whether it was my place to tell them they couldn’t have them. In the end, I mostly did not.

In some cases, I gently suggested perhaps leaving an item for someone else if it will just be filling out a bookcase. In one situation, I actively told someone, “That is not in the spirit of what I am offering here,” when they suggested trading two worse items of theirs for an item I am leaving for the next tenant. Sometimes, I let some clothes go, even if they didn’t fit the person or if the new owner was committing an active crime against fashion or good sense.

Some very special things went to special people who will actually use them often and expressed deep gratitude for receiving them. That makes the whole process worthwhile to me:

1. I found new owners for a vest, an iconic sweater, and other unique clothing pieces I love. They have joined me on many adventures until they became my old favorites, relegated to the closet. I hope their new owners will love and care for them as I did.

2. My record collection and turntable went to a DJ who didn’t have any records but who will use them often and actually play them out (and has already!). That’s much better than me playing a record once a month.

3. Several spiritual books have meant a great deal to me on my personal journey, and I was able to give them to people who are finding their own paths in the world.

The real joy of this part of the process has been seeing Dana’s potential. Dana is the Pali word for generosity. In Buddhism, it means generously giving of ourselves, our belongings, our wealth, and our compassion.

Recently, a phrase I have been saying has been, “One hand cleans the other,” and that’s how I see it in many ways. I need to continue on my Way. I have to get rid of things one way or the other. For me to give them to people who need them, who will use them, who will love them, that’s a huge bonus. It’s like 1+1=3. Like there are cheat codes in the game of life. Helping you find a copy of Snowcrash you’ve been looking for helps me get rid of a book I haven’t finished reading in 8 years. And along the way, joy and gratitude are created from nothing.

It feels like unwinding the wheel of karma. I can release myself from my attachments from wanting the item initially and help them go to someone who will use them.

Well, not from nothing; you are giving away all your stuff, right? Yes, indeed, but I don’t need it. And now it has created a well of goodness. When we realize that we don’t need anything, we can help the karma of the universe keep flowing. The life that we have had waiting on the shelf for us never to touch becomes the actual life of someone who is waiting for it to be available to them. If only we could hold on a little bit less tightly to our ideas about what our life is supposed to be, we could help everyone.

The second we let go of our preconceived notions of what life should be, we open ourselves to the wonder of what life actually can be.

That’s the real tragedy of the current issue of wealth inequality. I don’t think it’s American or Christian (or any religion except wanton Capitalist) to hoard as much as we can for ourselves just because we can, but please check any spiritual text and let me know. If even 1% of the wealthiest people at the top realized that they were fighting over the things they would never touch, they could make themselves a lasting legacy by giving it away instead.

Or go the opposite way, I guess.

If only we could see that we already have it all, we could help everyone who never had the chance we did. I am so, so lucky. For so many reasons, I grew up in a country free of war, I was relatively comfortable financially my whole life, I got lucky in the job market, I was able to get an education, and the list goes on and on.

Developing a simple gratitude practice has improved my perception of my life quality. A gratitude practice can be as simple as asking yourself, “What am I grateful for?” when walking the dog. Whatever comes up is valid. I find it good to be grateful for things big and small, positive and negative. Making space to be grateful for the challenging things in our lives that helped us become who we are can be a valuable opportunity to change our perspective on our current challenges.

What challenges today will I be grateful for tomorrow, next week, next month, next year?

Ultimately, our lives come down to our own perception of said lives. Modern society manipulates our desires to its own ends: to buy, to want, and to gamble. Our brains are not beyond manipulation. Our desires serve capitalism. If we didn’t want so much, we would surely be happy with what we have. That’s my experiment, anyway.

And so far, it’s been a success. I gave away a bunch of shit I never used. Some people even gave me donations to help me on my way. And best of all, people enjoyed it and were grateful. Wins all around.

So, when are you leaving?

Well, really soon, actually. Without the things here, now there’s not so much else to do. I have been in a bit of a malaise recently, to be honest. I have had a bunch of chores to do before I leave and an assortment of friends to meet as well. I’ve slipped back into a bad habit of staying up late and waking up late.

I have no real time pressure to leave immediately, but it would help get me moving. It is surprisingly easy to blow through a whole day by walking the dog, having a coffee, doing one chore, and meeting a friend. And I have done that for roughly twenty-five days running now. We are moving in the right direction, just not at a very brisque clip. There was a bit of waiting for appointments or meetings, but then a million different tiny chores piled up.

I should be motivated and excited by this next chapter.

Well, I certainly wasn’t for the first several weeks of January.

Honestly, it’s been the best years of my life here in Berlin, and I made a real life here for myself. It’s a bit sad to see it wind down. Once I go out that door, I’m not coming back. Not for 5 months at least. And that means no more improv comedy, meeting friends, bouldering, or seeing movies. It might also mean no more Berlin, maybe ever.

As much as I am looking forward to an adventure, I haven’t been relishing the beginning of it this month. I am quite comfortable here, and once I leave, I will not be comfortable again for a long time. In some ways, comfort is the enemy of change. That is more than a platitude currently, but that is changing… soon.

So, where’s your first stop?

As much as anyone can plan any freewheeling adventure, I made a plan. As with most well-made plans, I made it haphazardly and entirely on a whim. I suppose it was also partially inspired by the (not great) film The Way. In the movie, Martin Sheen walks the Camino de Santiago after his son dies while trying to complete it.

While I do not recommend the movie, it encouraged me to consider walking the Camino when I get down to Spain. The one thing I have on the calendar for next year is a festival I must attend (I am volunteering) in Portugal by June. When I saw the Camino routes spread all over Europe (even to my home in Berlin), I realized I could walk the whole way. Luckily, it will take the exact time I have before the festival to get to Portugal (more or less, depending on my speed).

So, later this week, I will walk out my door and keep walking until I arrive in Porto. It’s not the fastest way, but it is my way.

3 hours in a plane or 4 months on foot, potato potato.

I have been trying to leave for several weeks now. There has been an internal tug-of-war between planning for the road appropriately and surrendering to the process. A few days ago, I had my whole bag packed, but… it was too packed. In my desire to be fully prepared, I was trying to control too much and literally taking on too much (food, in this case).

Seven years ago, I hiked the John Muir Trail in California. A hike I undertook under similar circumstances (I quit my job and decided to hike more or less on a whim). The JMT requires some more specific preparation than this new trek will require. I don’t need to carry a week of food with me. I’ll be in Europe, not the High Sierra Mountain Range. The JMT is one of the most isolated trails in the world, where you can go 300km between resupply points and never cross a paved road. The Camino is often 10km or less between resupplies. While it is nice to have some food and other supplies on hand, it’s not necessary.

Faced with the prospect of being on the road for 4-5 months, I wanted to be “as ready as possible.” So, I bought a bunch of food and collected every item I thought I could possibly need for my trip. I was also concerned about my dog’s overnight safety in these temperatures. So I also bought him a sleeping bag and pad. Then I realized my sleeping bag and pad were probably not warm enough. And then, before you know it, my bag was 30+ kilograms and unwieldy. Since then, every day, I’ve been trying to strip away more and more that I don’t need. I expect this process will continue throughout my adventure.

Now, I want to try to control less and start embodying the practice I want to take with me on the trail. As taught by the Zen Master Seung Sahn, “Only don’t know.” We never know what challenges await us. We never know what tomorrow brings. I had prepared so many things I thought I needed for my adventure because I was trying to predict what would happen. Instead of judging what is presented to us in life and having expectations about what will happen or forecasting into the future, we should come back again and again to “Don’t know.”

This “Dont-know-mind” is our original nature, beyond dualistic ideas about the self and the object, beyond our cognitive process, beyond words themselves. Come back again and again to the present moment and rest in open awareness of what is happening right now.

This practice is precisely what led me to quit my job and decide to walk to Portugal in the first place. I didn’t need to know what the future held because I trusted in the unknown. When we can trust not knowing, we can actually find a deep knowing. It seems counterintuitive, but it isn’t.

When we stop trying to control the tides of the ocean, we can trust the waves and the wind to bring us safely to our destination on the other shore.

There is a place beyond words and beyond understanding; don’t run away from it. When you rest in it, not knowing is knowing. Good is bad. Right is wrong. I am you. The space between objects shrinks to nothing. To grasp it, let go. To control it, surrender. To succeed, fail. To know, don’t.

Will I leave tomorrow for Portugal? Don’t know.

Will I face challenges on the way there? Don’t know.

What will I have for dinner in a week? Don’t know.

What will I do when I run out of money? Don’t know.

Where will I sleep? Don’t know.

Resting in not knowing is trusting.

Can we trust in whatever the future holds?

Ask me again in 6 months. Don’t know.