By Lisa Kutolowski
There are signs of scarcity everywhere we look these days. Medical supplies are lacking, unemployment is skyrocketing, the economy is tanking. It seems each news headline is just a different way of saying “There isn’t enough and there won’t be enough.” As I consume these stories, I feel their message worm its way into my psyche. I feel my body constrict, my vision narrow, my throat tighten as I grasp for a sense of security—some promise that everything will be okay. In this context, ‘okay’ means something changes in my external circumstances that will assuage my ego in an unstable world—“enough” money in the bank or “enough” food/supplies/toilet paper on hand or “enough” sense of control over my life.
I put “enough” in quotes here because “enoughness” is a slippery thing. What is considered enough changes radically from person to person. It changes from community to community and culture to culture. It even changes within the same person—it changes within me—sometimes hour to hour.
It cannot be denied that we, as embodied creatures, have real needs. But what happens to our bodies, souls, and communities when fear of not having what we need looms larger than what we actually need? When perception overwhelms reality? For me, clear decision making is muddied, any sense of generosity or compassion is stunted, and the temptation to grasp or hoard presses in. The ramifications of this locked-in, fear-driven posture is the inability to assess what I actually need. Instead I experience a sharp and selfish turn inward as I look out for myself at the exclusion of others and cling to resources. It is not hard to see this play out on a large scale in strained times such as these.
The other consequence of this fear is an inability to see. We become blind to the resources, options, and love available to us. When we focus on what we do not have (or what we might lose) we fail to see the abundance in our peripheral vision. I believe a life of prayer and faith is learning how to relax our eyes in order to see clearly the reality of our circumstances, and to hold that reality (no matter how scary or scarce we may perceive it to be) in the infinite love of God. What happens to our bodies, souls, and communities when we are present to ourselves and each other from thisstance? How might leaning into a spirit of generosity and abundance keep life and resources flowing between the human community and the rest of earth’s creatures? How does this change our sense of what we need and what is enough?
To be clear, holding our reality in the infinite love of God will not safeguard us from loss or hardship. We’ve never been promised that. What we are promised is that when loss and hardship come, we are not cut off from life—from God, from Love, and from our deepest self. Our actual reality may be a legitimate cause for fear. However, not all people respond to all situations in the same way, in even the most horrific of circumstances. The great saints and heroes of human history are witnesses to the ability to stay open, loving, and present even while being beaten, tortured, and killed. Surely, there is a path of openness available to us in the midst of perceived, or even real, scarcity. What is this path? What are the tools that can help us tend to our real needs from a place of openness and trust?
Recognize What We Have
I learned a simple, valuable lesson during a personal pilgrimage in France three years ago. It’s a lesson I return to repeatedly. Mid-afternoon on the first day of my journey I found myself in a predicament. I had gotten lost earlier in the day, wasting precious time. I was low on cash and my debit card had declined, the sun was setting, there were miles ahead of me and I didn’tknow where I would be spending the night. I was tired, despondent, and afraid. As I crested the hill I was climbing, I came face to face with a sculpture of Christ on the cross—an image that could be seen from the little town in the valley below. It was there I decided to turn in gratefulness toward what I had instead of dwelling on what I didn’t have. I had a quiche from the last village in my pack. I had thirteen euros. The blazes were showing me the way. I had a tarp and a sleeping bag, and two more hours of daylight. The weather was warm and fair. My body and mind were healthy and whole. That was the list. And it was enough to flip my thinking from scarcity to abundance, and my body from constriction to openness. As fear of all the terrible things that might happen dissolved, I was then able to think clearly about the reality of my circumstance and the options available to me. (Read the full story here.)
I have returned to this practice of gratitude many times since that journey, and many times in the last month. I never finish the list—despite the real challenges of our times, the abundance all around and within me is too great. In my experience, a downward-spiraling scarcity mindset is often locked into one finite resource—money or relationships or health. When I’m able to widen my vision to see the broader picture, my fear is put into perspective.
Notice When We Are Seeking Infinite Security in Finite Resources
We have finite needs and we have infinite needs—each is good and right when sought within its own sphere. We have a deep-seated need for infinite love, security, and wholeness which can only be found in the heart of God. We also have finite creaturely, bodily needs. Feeding oneself and ones’ family well is good. Providing shelter that is warm and safe is good. Life-giving, inspiring, and caring relationships are good. However, as soon as we try to fill the infinite needs of our hearts with food, home, or relationships—either in quantity or quality—we are setting ourselves up for failure. Either we will be frustrated because we can never get enough, or we will be one of the many links in a world of injustice as we hoard or cling to what we do not need, creating realscarcity for those less fortunate than us. Often, we will experience both. It is easy to see this play out on a large and infuriating scale as our economy and its supporting legislation continues to funnel more and more money to the wealthiest Americans. When we see this clearly, it is right to be angry and call foul! It is equally important to note that our hearts are not that different from these billionaires—that we too are tempted to fill our infinite needs with finite resources, perhaps even at the expense of others. Noticing this dynamic at work is a first step towards freedom.
Be in Prayer & Nature as Much (or More!) as Reading the News
As long as we fill our hearts and minds with stories, philosophies, and information coming from a mindset of scarcity, a path of openness and trust will likely allude us. We must regularly immerse ourselves in spaces that radiate the reality of abundance, love, and beauty. Rest in God in silent prayer. Read the Gospel stories. (Today’s reading was about Jesus feeding 5000 people with five loaves of bread and two fish—talk about an abundance narrative!) Contemplate the beauty, wonder, and resilience of creation—a simple houseplant will suffice. These disciplines are not about avoiding reality or “sticking your head in the sand.” Rather, prioritizing them is an act of recognizing that the news cycle only presents a sliver of reality (at best). Nor are these practices about self-care. They are ways of entering into the powerful current of God’s love and action in this world that is beyond self. Only from this place of divine abundance can we take in the news of our world without constricting into fear and grasping.
Give
What do you feel like you don’t have enough of? Money? Time? Food? Affirmation or recognition? If you are able to do so without bitterness or a sense of being “guilted” into it, try giving some of it away. Do so as an experiment, noticing what happens inwardly even as you simply think about giving. Where is there constriction? Where is there softness? If or when you do give, what happens to your perception of scarcity and abundance? I am frequently amazed at how a simple outward gesture can soften my fear-hardened heart.
…
These times are not easy. There is a lot to fear. It is natural to feel anxiety when so much is unraveling, shaky, and uncertain. It makes sense to wonder if there will be enough. However, we need not stay locked into a state of fear and constriction. We can acknowledge that the times are difficult and still remain open to God, to life and to each other. Indeed, this is the only path that will actually lead to a sense of “enough.”