The Gift of Sustainability

In my experience, sustainability isn’t only about the mechanics of such behaviors as using my own bag at the grocery store, or turning off the lights in a room not being used.  For me, it begins with a spiritual question:  what will sustain me? More succinctly, what will sustain the heart?  For me, that is the central question, and when that question gets answered, the mechanics of sustainability work themselves out.

For instance, this past holiday season, my boyfriend and I started a conversation of “So…what do you want for the holidays?”  We both are in tight financial positions right now, and we both knew that we could not afford to spend much on gift giving.  So, we took the question to heart.  What do we want? What do I want? As we searched our minds and our hearts, I blurted out my answer, “I have everything I need.” It is true.  I have beautiful friends, a loving partner, a sweet dog-friend, a roof that doesn’t leak, a basement that doesn’t take in water, a warm bed, a strong mind and body, food in the cupboards, and a spiritual practice.  What else do I need?  And anything else that I want, well, it would come from within.  Peace. Joy.  Lessening suffering.  That’s what I want.  And those things aren’t bought, sold or wrapped.

As my boyfriend and I discussed all that we have, and experienced the gratitude that comes with such a discussion, we both came to the same idea:  Why not give the amount we had decided to use for presents for each other to those people who are in need?  As soon as we came upon the idea, my heart said yes.  We took the money allocated to holiday presents for one another and gave it to Living Compassion’s African Vulnerable Children’s Fund.

Inevitably, family and friends asked us, “Well what presents did you get each other for the holidays?” When we would explain what we had done, we got some interesting input from people.  We heard that we were “boring” or “goody-goody” or “unromantic”.  I guess they were hoping that we’d give answers about gifts of jewelry, or expensive electronics, or books and cd’s.   It’s difficult to explain to those folks that every day, there is at least one moment when I think about the gift we gave and I smile to myself.  I feel my heart beat louder and I feel love.  In many ways, it is quite romantic.

For the holidays, I got a lot.  For one thing, I was able to find physical expression for my heart’s desire.  My boyfriend and I gave each other a sign of our commitment to a way of living. I gave within my means, and don’t have the debt incurred from giving some big expensive thing that may impress others, but would not sustain my heart.

So the floodgates of possibility and giving have opened for the two of us.  We talk about how we can save here and there so that we can give even more next year. We also have opened a pathway to the heart.  I find myself wanting to act on messages from the heart more. I catch myself wondering: could I clean this counter top without using so many paper towels? Could I use a cloth instead of paper towels?  Could we recycle more? The city doesn’t recycle plastic, so could we find a place that will? Can I help that person?  Can I share my gifts?

And each question I ask about what’s possible comes back to that one central question:  what will sustain the heart?  Treading lightly upon the earth, not contributing to the suffering of the earth and its inhabitants, giving, sharing, and helping when I can.  For me, it’s about the gift of sustainability for all, including the hear