Snowfall Is Quiet

It’s not uncommon for people in my country to visit a pharmacy around this time to stock up on remedies for an upset stomach in anticipation of Christmas celebrations. Perhaps this is what made me think one more time about a topic that is very close to my heart—renunciation. There is much that could be said and I hope to keep returning to it. Today, I will focus on renunciation particularly in regard to the desire for sensual pleasure, some of the ways it is understood in Buddhism, and I will also mention one of my practices that I find beautiful.

Renunciation has been revealing itself over the years pretty naturally in my life, at times in delightful ways, and at other times in surprising ways. Occasionally, it took me a while to find acceptance with its unfolding and a bit of courage to live openly in a way that feels genuine to my heart.

In my view, the practice of renunciation is certainly not limited to serious practitioners, nuns and monks, or even Buddhists. There are many ways to integrate it into one’s life. I have no doubt that it can bring ease and contentment to anyone willing to give it a try. After all, renunciation is about understanding, living gently with nature and all its beings, and discovering inner happiness to which fleeting sensual experiences can’t really compare.

It is this fleetingness and conditioned nature, often dependent on the presence of external forms, that makes craving for sensual pleasure problematic. Every sensual experience will inevitably disappear. Then we want something else, something new, something exciting. Always running away or chasing after, we are never truly fulfilled. The cycle continues endlessly. Feeding this all only makes things worse. Powerful habitual patterns are reinforced, and we end up unable to look deeper. The sense of “me” and “mine”, a common source of conflicts, grows. So, however enjoyable it may be, sensual pleasure is a very limited, short-term, and unstable source of happiness with lots of gotchas. The Buddha’s main concern was the unconditioned freedom and peace rooted in his profound experiential understanding of the workings of the mind and heart.

So, even though renunciation may seem like hardship to some, at the end of the day it’s really not about struggle. What follows is my own gentler version of a simile from the Pāli Canon that explains this so intuitively. Let’s imagine that you’ve just got bitten by a mosquito. Although scratching the wound can bring temporary relief or even feel pleasurable, it hinders the healing process and causes pain in the long run. Feeding the craving for sensual pleasure is like scratching. Moreover, once the wound has healed, would you want a mosquito to come back to bite you again and again, just so you can continually enjoy the satisfying feeling of scratching? I bet that the answer is no, and I bet none of us would even need to think about it! Every cell of our bodies and minds knows what healthy skin is like and we naturally enjoy it more than scratching a bite wound even though it doesn’t feel so intense, right? In the same way, when renunciation is practiced well, the heart and mind eventually gains clarity and is able to discern between healthy and unhealthy. Thanks to this embodied understanding and the sense of contentment, the need for constant stimulation naturally falls away.

An image of falling snow often comes to my mind in connection to renunciation. There’s lightness and brightness. Its coolness calms the heart. No matter how busy the streets are, snow always falls at its own pace, silent and peaceful. Just as a soft blanket of snow protects trees from the bitter cold, renunciation goes with the sense of warmth protecting one’s heart from freezing and hardening. This warmth is much more balanced and stable than the heat of sensual craving. It’s like enjoying a quiet winter evening in the presence of a candle, perhaps reading a book and wearing cozy warm socks.

It’s not that the practice of renunciation is always easy. Habits are strong and we often don’t realize how many things we are addicted to, especially those of us living in prosperous countries where we can get dozens of candies in every store. In such an environment, there are not many opportunities to attune to what’s actually going on when we get or don’t get what we want. So, it can be challenging and uncomfortable at first to resist the urge to immediately satisfy all our desires. However, with consistent effort and investigation, it’s only a matter of time before we uncover what lies beneath the surface. I believe that appreciating, reminding, and eventually recognizing the beauty of renunciation for ourselves is essential for the integration of renunciation into our daily lives in a natural and healthy manner.

One of my practices, which I find to be very beautiful, is to practice renunciation as an offering. Throughout the day, I don’t take a thing or an experience. Instead, I put it in my imaginary pocket, meaning that I remember it in my own little funny way. Before bedtime, I pull it out of the pocket and in my mind, place it on the altar as an offering. I really enjoy the spiritual beauty of an offering act and I also like to give thanks for everything that I’ve received from innumerable beings and nature, making this life possible. So I usually don’t want to miss a chance to offer something and rarely come empty-handed.

Dedicated practitioners and nuns or monks in some traditions don’t eat after lunch and live in celibacy. All this can be seen as an offering. Some people may enjoy two cookies and decide not to take the third. We can offer a glass of wine we didn’t drink, all the time we didn’t spend watching a violent movie, an empty sitcom, scrolling social media feeds for no reason, or listening to the same news over and over. This all definitely counts. We can carefully review our shopping lists and intentionally remove one item. Very important! I have no doubts that many people from wealthy nations can always find something to offer every day.

If this speaks to you, or perhaps if you already try to live gently but just didn’t find time to reflect on it regularly, chances are that you could enjoy such a practice too. It might be helpful to set a goal to offer one thing every day for a certain period of time and periodically contemplate what it is like. If you decide to try it out, thank you! Please remember well all the things or experiences you didn’t take today and celebrate when offering them! It’s a noble act. If you don’t have a religion or an altar, that’s really not a problem. Let’s offer to this wonderful planet. The practice of renunciation is not just a tool. It is an offering itself. I believe that for those of us who don’t suffer from lack, intentionally directing our lives towards not taking is one of the most important things we can do for the Earth and the whole of humankind in these times.

Poem: undisturbed
by shopping fever…
snowfall is quiet