Wanting Nothing

There was a period for several years before I found the monastery when more and more insistently I found that I wanted nothing. I don’t mean that I couldn’t think of anything that I wanted, but that I actively wanted not to have anything. I didn’t want to be burdened by possessions because I felt that having things weighed me down and kept me from God. Things demand attention and maintenance and I wanted to be rid of that to make more room for God in my life.

Mistakenly, as I now know, I thought everything would be taken from me when I entered the monastery. I thought my life would become simpler, that by not owning anything personally, the detachment that I sought would be handed to me on a plate and I wouldn’t have to think about possessions anymore.

It doesn’t work like that. First of all, if you live in the monastery, you are given the necessities like shelter, food, warmth and clothes. Once you realize you will have these things, you start to have opinions about them and you start to feel that your room is your little kingdom. At least, that’s how I felt. Secondly, although if you buy something like a book, you’ve bought it out of the communal money pot, it doesn’t feel any less that it’s my book. Thirdly (this was the biggest blow to the dispossession dream), you discover that, as a member of the monastery, you bear a moral responsibility for how the community makes and spends its income. Thus, the problem of having things was doubled, not diminished. Ever since I came here, I have had to bother not only about my personal relationship with possessions, but the communal dimension as well.

Initially, I was also thrown by the fact that we lived rather comfortably in the monastery. Then I realized that things aren’t being run for my benefit. I may have wanted to struggle with living more spartanly, but some sisters need a special diet or have conditions that mean they feel the cold, so places have to be warmer than maybe I would choose. This was a good lesson for me in that I let go of the pride of wanting to be a martyr and instead became grateful that all these things were available to me.

At a deeper level, I have also started to understand that wanting to have nothing was not really about the possessions themselves. Just letting go and being grateful meant I didn’t angst about their absence or presence. I find now that I can take pleasure in things, but my happiness isn’t dependent on them. A new chair might be nice, but it’s not essential. If I get the new chair, I can enjoy it, but if it’s removed, then it doesn’t disturb me. I’ve discovered that I only want the necessities of life, because the non-necessities are not essential to my inner peace.

 

 Karen Rose, OSB                                                                         April 5, 2019