Belongings

Yoga reflections, possessive redirections

At the end of my yoga class this week, I approached the ikea-design pigeon hole to retrieve my burgundy Sambas* from their nesting place. Amidst the array of much more yogi looking shoes (salomon trails, crocs, docs, birkenclogs) I went to grab my sneaks with pride. As I clutched for their lemon yellow stripes, my eyes were drawn away from the cubby hole and down to the word spray-painted on the floor:

“BELONGINGS”

Something about the way it was Banksy’d onto the laminate revealed this word in a novel light. Instead of one word, I saw it as two.

Etymologically-speaking ‘belonging’ is an interesting one. As a noun it is defined as ‘the owned property of'; as a verb: ‘to hold an affinity for a place or a person.’ To be longing, means to be yearning, pining, wanting. How can we hold something physical, and yet in doing so also hold the state of seeking more?

It got me thinking about possession. We don’t actually own anything, do we? We merely look after things. Our bank balances don’t come with us to the grave, they just get passed on to someone else (namely, the tax man). Sorry, this all got rather morbid rather quickly, didn’t it?

Clearly, the yoga class worked. You’re reading the output of a post-vinyasa high. Is this Nirvana? Have I lost the plot? Am I Eckhart Tolle’s long-lost spiritual twin in blonde, basic, Lululemon disguise? No. But recently, I regularly feel like I’ve taken a pill, left the Matrix, then returned to our world’s simulation as a totally new video game player. Life has unlimited levels if you look for them.

I’m a great deal more present than I ever used to be (and a hell of a lot poorer). Yet, I feel rich, often richer, in ways outside of my physical possessions. Don’t get me wrong there’s a lot I yearn for. This city is a lot more fun when you’re wealthy. In fact, it’s often miserable when you have to keep saying no to things. I’m dying to get my hair cut, or my nails done— why is it just SO expensive!? I’d love to go for a spontaneous dinner or a last-minute theatre show. But, in London you haemorrhage money just by breathing. We are only ever one TFL-induced panic attack and a coffee shop stop away from burning another thirty pounds. Yet stripping back my spending has made me notice the minimal possessions I truly need. Why do we do need all these things really? To distract us from the overpriced chaos we toil so hard to keep creating?

Celebrity culture and ‘TikTok made me buy it’ isn’t responsible for our need to be-longing. Nor is fast fashion or streaming services building their on demand world. Yes, they have not helped the problem, in fact, they have exacerbated it. We are annoyingly, addictively wired this way. Monkey-see, monkey buy. It is our fault though — partly our brain chemistry; mostly our unwillingness to question our ways. Desire is a fundamental part of our humanity; satiating it our method of self-gratification.

The social creatures that we are, we have evolved and survived through longing. That’s why all these huge digital-dopamine conglomerates work. It’s also why we are so obsessed with finding romantic love; why long-standing friendship can make us feel so warm and alive; why it hurts when the people we love aren’t around anymore; and why we always light up when asked about our hopes and dreams.

Of course, the solution is not to sell all your worldly goods, live on a mountain top and become a monk (although in January my income was 78% Vinted sales, so I guess I’m one step of the way there). Really it’s this: when you go to buy that next item on your wish list, ask yourself — do you want the belonging or do you want to belong? What is it you really yearn for? Love? Community? Self-belief? The ability to be vulnerable? The freedom to express yourself creatively? Yearn for something higher in yourself and others, then try spend your pennies on that somehow. But, I promise you — it’ll cost you.

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*Unpaid partnership with Adidas, other trainer manufacturers are also available.