Do you remember the great toilet paper shortage of 2020? I know you don’t want to, but do you? Through a series of unprecedented events, our system was overtaken by fear of lack. The perceived deficit caused people to hoard, and the hoarding created an actual deficit. It seemed like there was no toilet paper to buy in America.

The toilet paper and grocery shortage we experienced is the perfect illustration of what happens when the relationship between need and consumption goes out of balance. It’s also a way to help us understand the value of the yama (moral restraint; one of the eight limbs of yoga) called aparigraha (non-hoarding/ non-possessiveness). I brought back the chart for those of us trying to learn the limbs:

How much stuff do we need?

When I was first introduced to the concept of aparigraha, the meaning seemed pretty clear. One translation of Patanjali’s Yoga Sutras (Finger and Newton’s for the scholars in the room) defines this yama:

Aparigraha is the absence of greed and possessiveness. It is created when we understand that we can have things, but we don’t own them. If we can consciously step back from our desire for attachment to our stuff, the desired object or outcome holds no power over the ego, and the things that we want and have can’t own us (Sutras 2.30).

In the Sutras 2.39, we learn what happens if we can live out this yama:

Aparigraha sthairye janmakathamta sambodah.

“When one is grounded in aparigraha, there arises a deep understanding of one's identity and purpose as one ceases to be attached to possessions and outcomes.”

Patanjali was pointing at getting free from our stuff as an avenue to get spiritually free. Reflecting on our consumption-driven culture makes the need for practicing this yama apparent. If we buy lots of unnecessary yoga gear that financially zaps us and clutters our living spaces, then that’s a very physical manifestation of being trapped by our attachment to possessions.

We’ve all met (and perhaps at times we are or have been) that person who seems to be totally fueled by buying things. They want the latest expensive thing, they aren’t happy until they have it, and as soon as they get it, they move on to lusting after the next object. They can never reach contentment because they always want more.

Aparigraha is about more than just our stuff, however.

Beyond our physical possessions

You'll find that the limbs of yoga take on more depth as you continue to practice and study. Different parts of what you read and experience will jump out at you as you take time to learn.

You might have noticed that little bit at the end of the Sutras translation about nonattachment to possessions and outcomes. What do the Sutras mean by that?

“Outcomes” immediately makes me think of what is, at least in my opinion, one of the most important sections of the Bhagavad Gita, particularly for those of us interested in karma yoga. The god, Krishna, says to Arjuna:

“You have a right to work, but never to the fruit of work. You should never engage in action for the sake of reward, nor should you long for inaction (BG 2.47).”

When I take this passage from the Bhagavad Gita and the passages on aparigraha from the Sutras, I arrive at an understanding that we can hoard or be possessive of non-physical things too.

Hoarding of identities and ideas

Do you ever catch yourself looking at situations through the eyes of a person you used to be? Me too. It took lots of practicing yoga to even realize I was doing it. These hats we wear can get stuck on our heads sometimes.

When I started writing, I used to feel a compulsion to save all my “best” ideas. Ideas can do nothing in storage. I had to learn to trust that more ideas would come. How often have you stored away a hope, a dream, or an idea only to have it never see the light of day?

Don’t hide that light under a bushel

If you’ve been reading these messages, you know I have a strong conviction that everyone has gifts. I have come to understand that we can also hoard and be possessive over our gifts.

Now, I’m not for a second saying that we should give everything away all the time. We need to pay our bills and care for ourselves and our families, for instance, and most of us do that through some talent or skill. It’s also true that some of us are just trying to make it, whether that’s financially, physically, or emotionally. I see you. There will come times and opportunities to share that will not diminish your capacity to care for yourself.

I do believe that if one has a gift and that can help ease the suffering of someone else, and one also has the means/capacity/bandwidth to share that gift, then it is that person’s duty to use those skills to help.

Everyone likes a pat on the back, but for this giving to be the most freeing, we have to let go of our desire for praise. (That probably sounds preachy. I just want to acknowledge that this is hard! I'm working on this in my own practice of giving.) If it comes, then it’s wonderful, and we bask in that love. If it doesn’t come, we are still content because we have done our best. We've let go of our attachment to the fruits of our actions. We've exercised our non-hoarding and non-possessiveness muscles.

Rare seeds

I ordered some rare seeds for my garden last year. The packets were sometimes $3 or $4, and each one contained only a few seeds. I had two choices. First, I could hoard my seeds. In this way, I might preserve the genetics, but the seeds could also lose viability over time. My other option was to plant them.

I let go of my attachment to the seeds so that I could plant them. As the rare plants grew, I had to let go of my attachment to the outcome. Anything could happen. Deer could (and did) eat some plants before they reached maturity. A storm or a disease could wipe out a season’s work in no time at all. I had to appreciate each day with the plant as though it might be the last.

A few plants didn’t survive until the end of the season, but more than enough did. One rare sunflower seed yielded hundreds of seeds. There is enough to eat, enough to share, and enough to put in the ground next year. Letting go of my impulse to hoard the seeds multiplied them.

When you release something, you make room for something else. When you give, your life becomes richer. Have you seen this in your experience?