Ownership

Since birth, we’ve been conditioned to aspire to own things. These objects include material and immaterial things; even living beings. From necessity items (e.g. soap) to luxury goods (e.g. handbag) to intangible attainments (e.g. fame) to human relationships (e.g. companionship) – we have been led to believe that everything in the world can be owned. Our conditioned belief is rooted in territorial rights. Throughout history, colonies of settlers used force to establish exclusive possession over tracts of land. This idea of ‘territorialism’ outlived its colonial days; subsequently expanding to nearly all aspects of life. Today, our adherence to the concept of ownership is so deep-rooted that we regard every object, person and non-living being as a bar-coded water drop in an ocean of resources.

Ownership is the exclusive right to determine the destiny of a being. The right is manifested by the power to assign access, usage, consumption or transfer of the being. If you own a being, only you can determine its fate. This territorial concept of ownership is evident in every facet of life.

By preventing athletes from signing contracts with different parties, a council of sports administrators demonstrates ownership over its players. By insisting that his wife seek his permission prior to meeting someone, a husband demonstrates ownership over his spouse. By refusing to allow a neighbour to use her lawn, a resident demonstrates ownership over her property. The forceful exertion of ownership rights has a detrimental effect on one’s pursuit of conscious growth.

The sports administrator is buffeted by feelings of anxiety and rage – the same negative emotions that the disgruntled, handcuffed athletes emit to their environment. The recalcitrant husband is forced to deal with his wife’s silent disappointment by either compensating her in another form or by oppressing her even further. Whichever route he chooses, he ends up drowning in feelings of negativity. The selfish resident experiences anger when her subsequent request to remodel her garden is rejected by other community members…who were aghast by the neighbour’s tale of denial. In all these cases, the principal characters lose their mental and emotional balance and hurtle into a vicious spiral of negativity. The descent into Gloomdom makes it impossible for them to banish judgements; to practise attachment without detachment or to witness every moment with a passion. Therefore, the focus on ownership detracts from conscious growth.

What is the alternative to ownership? Non-possessiveness. This concept doesn’t mean that we have to share everything readily. After all, there may be people who have malicious intentions behind using their hoard. Non-possessiveness is a feeling of detachment from the beings in one’s sphere of ownership. Take the example of a ball. You have owned it since childhood. If you interpret your role in the life of the object as that of a caretaker, you’d say, “Hi Ball! I’m your guardian. My job is to look after you; to keep you safe and clean. Beyond that, however, you’re on your own to shape your destiny.” By uttering these words, you’re reiterating your responsibilities towards the ball. At the same time, you’re disavowing your attachment towards it. Due to this mindset, you feel fondly towards the object. However, should a situation arise that you’d have to part with it – you’d do so joyfully.

A non-possessive state of being is crucial in cultivating a mindset that experiences attachment with detachment. This state of flow enables us to accept things gratefully and to let go gracefully. When we reach this inner space, we instantly redirect our inner energy from desires to the One. Thereafter, we feel ourselves floating towards the origin of the universe. This meditative state – achieved without engaging in actual meditation practices – is a state of sublime, supreme harmony.

In this state of being, we realize the universal truth. We own nothing. Nothing owns us. We are all part of One and the Same.