I’ve never seen a city like this before. Far from the romantic images of an East-West port city in transition through the 20th century, 21st century Hong Kong smacks of globalization.
Visually, it is something to behold. Hong Kong is unlike anywhere I’ve ever been. Framed by volcano-shaped mountains, the city consumes a few islands and over 6,000 glass-metal-concrete spires shoot skyward in a sea of skyscrapers. Pitched against the March mountains and the blue-green harbor, it’s a combination of human and natural engineering that left me inspired with mouth agape for days on end.
I’ve enjoyed my time here, welcomed by a number of generous hosts and even catching up with an old friend on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon.
But there is a certain heaviness here. In so many ways, there is no question that the city sparkles. But what’s underneath her clothes? A heavy and haunted history. Born from that, one sees/feels/hears the emptiness underneath the glamorous designer wares and latest plastic sheen.
The other day I sat out lounging on the deck outside the International Financial Centre, cooling over an ice tea. After walking past what seemed like the 18th Salvatore Ferragamo store I’ve seen since I arrived in town, I sat and watched the other patrons. A perfect deck, elevated and harbor-viewed and my friend and I even scored some classic fully-pillowed couch. Perfect day. Choice spot.
But as I sat there, I started to feel as if I was on a see-saw – pitched in the middle of two swaying sides. The seemingly opposed sides became crystal in my minds eyes.
On one, I could feel the spirit of materialism that has raised me up since I was a child. Whether its a couple hundred thousand commercials or my senses that developed to understand smells, sights and sounds, I’ve learned all about material things. I’ve learned to appreciate all kinds of things too: a new baseball glove, cheap wine, fine cigars, GI Joes, fresh basil, a well-cut shirt. I’ve learned to appreciate giving and getting. Things that are free and things that you pay for. And here I was sitting on a nice deck, sipping an over-priced drink with an old friend and feeling that life was just about as perfect as it could be at that moment.
I took all that in. The fact is that we are material beings. We rely on the things of the earth to provide us not only with entertainment or a good feeling, but much more practically giving us the nourishment, shelter and safety we need to live. At the same time, I’m more than well aware that material goods do not provide lasting happiness or security. They serve a purpose, but that purpose isn’t fulfillment. We can be satisfied with a meal, but we will be hungry again. We can enjoy a cigarette, but we will nic again. We can be happy with new pair of Italian leather shoes, but unhappy when we step in dog shit walking down the Roman street. (This first became clear to me studying the Buddha though many sages recognize the suffering that arises from desire for things – which naturally arises as a product of a overly-materialistic society).
But thinking of Buddha got me thinking of Gandhi’s autobiography. I was so compelled by his will to let go of much in order to strengthen his focus on truth and nonviolence. These two things, far from things you can “have” were worth more to him than accumulating anything other than a pair of chappals, some clothes he made by himself* and wearing a hairstyle that he cut by himself** (though as a British-trained barrister, he could have lived posh as). Surely his high thinking and practice served a remarkable purpose for India and the world. Would it have been possible if he had been distracted by recurring desires to purchase the latest iProduct?
But can you live alone on the truth? Can you live alone on a good hug?
The truth with seesaws is that they show us two sides in comparison to each other. We ultimately see which one weighs more (or to which one we assign greater or lesser value). Between materialism and non-attachment there must be balance. We are material beings, yet we have a degree of conscience unparalleled on earth.
So how to balance? In Hong Kong, the seesaw tilts one way more than the other. How about your seesaw? How does it balance?***
*Reminded me of a shirt my friend Ngan wears. It says: “The best things aren’t things”. Of course, it’s a on a shirt, probably costing more because it of what it says Perhaps its also of more attachment for her because it’s a clever and perhaps “good” shirt.
** In a somewhat poignant side note. Gandhi’s watch, glasses and chappals recently went up for auction in New York. The proceedings caused such a stir that the items were eventually removed form the auction block. Seems they couldn’t decide who should “have” them. I can almost hear Gandhiji sigh heavily and patiently.
***As it goes sometimes, I read some supremely incisive words during my time on the seesaw. This came from the Gospel of Mark. “Listen carefully to what I am saying – be wary of the shrewd advice that tells you how to get ahead in the world on your own. Giving, not getting, is the way. Generosity begets generosity. Stinginess impoverishes.” (4:24-25)
Monday, March 23, 2009
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