The Needy: A Selfie

My mother never let me open a Christmas present without first reading one of the famously published Neediest Cases.  That's probably how I developed what Buddhists call habitual tendency to think of this annual moment as Neediest time. And that's probably how I suddenly got focused on the whole idea of neediness. And straightaway of course got focused on me.

What a gadzooks this has been. I always thought a big part of Buddhist practice was keeping my mind on a diet, so I would reduce my life to its Zen: essentials only. I have tried. Egads, have I tried. I have let go of one spending opportunity after another: a movie, a membership, an airplane trip, a pair of shoes I really really wanted. I have passed up, passed by and passed on (tiz the season for Goodwill). Sometime back I turned into thrifty with a hint of miser--except when other people honestly need a little help. I am no Scrooge.

 I thought I was fit enough by now to be extra vigilant in this post turkey season. I was secretly jolly about my lack of folly. I thought I could definitely handle the uphill slog, the cold swim against a storm tide. After all, everybody knows gobble day launches all out gobbling up, i.e. the spending season. Get out the tree ornament, wrapping paper and compassion time is get out the wallet time. And just in case there's an ET around, hints and cues for what Buddhists call real letting go bomb from every direction. You just never know how needy you are until December. Got chestnuts roasting on an open fire?

As I said, I was sure long exposure let me build immunity to these inflections and no longer be among the needy. My practice ha been to--ahem, pardon me, Buddhists --not detach from my money. Perfect that nobody was expecting Christmas gifts from me, except perhaps one four-year-old. Good that I didn't feel I had to rush to replace the two juice/water glasses other people broke. I was not getting suckered into the jaws of shopnado. Not me. So that me has been shocked, shocked to discover my wallet is hemorrhaging and my credit card is feverish. 

It took me a week to write this, dumbfounded as I am by how infected by neediness a determined not needy person can be. I needed shampoo, conditioner, sensitive dry skin face cream, sensitive gums toothpaste, laundry detergent, clock batteries, a garage door remote battery, wood floor cleaner, mop to replace the missing, and food to eat at the same time I needed to buy my godson's newborn a gift and replace a lost pair of reach-for gray wools socks. I needed a new bath rug to replace the five-year-old one that was badly frayed, torn and stained--if I didn't want to fall on the marble floor. I needed a haircut. I needed new pads inside the yellow leather sneakers slightly too big without them. I needed toilet paper and Kleenex.  I needed to replace the old metal towel ring that finally fell off. I needed more jars to seal my quince jam in. I needed tins for my annual bout of spiced walnut and pumpkin seed production--gifts for the year to come. I needed gas in my car and coffee in my pot. I needed to pay for the dinner I ate out meeting an old friend. I needed to mail a birthday package of homemade goodies to a young friend. I needed a new water filter in my Brita pitcher. I needed more food to eat. I needed a little dry cleaning. I needed... needed ...okay, wanted at least one set of towels that wasn't thin, scratchy and water-resistant after ten years of constant use. 

If you need an end to this story, you need to know there won't be one. Recent research, mine, (see above) reveals needs are endless. That is the gadzooks. Evidently, those of us not among the neediest cases are nevertheless still among the needy.














~Sandy Garson "Wordsmithing to attest how the Dharma saved me from myself!"
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