A Donut Pendant

 

The day is fair and slightly overcast at the Taiwanese Festival at Harbourfront. Various people sell their wares in the outside patios. I learn about someone who teaches guitar and posts humorous stories on Facebook as well as providing guitar lessons on You Tube. I find someone who sells personalized cards for various retailers. I see trinkets of many kinds, jewelry to be bargained for, and a series of installments with pictures representing life in Taiwan.  Between the sounds of Taiwanese rock and traditional Japanese folk/drinking music, I am able to soak in the sounds and smells of outdoor festival life. I see people connecting together, laughing together, and trying to show others what they know and have to survive. I buy a small pendant that is shaped like a chocolate glazed donut.

I don’t know what a donut pendant represents to me until I come home, and realize that it connects to me on several levels. For one, the donut is a kind of symbol of craving, innocently couched in this tiny necklace ornament. For another, the donut subverts the notion of what is precious and what is expendable. A donut, one might say, is not meant to be a keepsake, or a hand-me-down, or even a precious jewel. It is usually something one craves when they want sugar or a nice flavor.  But having a donut pendant reminds me that all these precious elements are products of desire. Were they not to be desired or shared, there would be no festival, or perhaps no reason for people to congregate and be together. It also reminds me that everyday cravings are also a source of shared community between people. They become the transitional objects through which people create shared meaning or meetings together. Wherever there is food, drink, or things for sale, there will be people to congregate and learn more about tastes or objects that are different from their acquired customs. Among other things, this opens a door to a compassionate connection with other beings.

Is there anything wrong with material things or wanting material or sensual things? I think it’s important not to rely on material cravings for a feeling of well-being. However, today’s visit to the festival reminded me that materials can be useful forms if they are seen in the context of how they point to mind.  How so? I think there are several connections I can make. Reflecting on the diversity of the objects around me today reminds me that phenomena are always changing, from sounds to smells, from feelings to thoughts, from tastes to forms. One moment, I see a pavilion selling t-shirts, and the next moment, I find a tent selling a new cell-phone plan. But they also point to the multi-functionality of causes and conditions. So many people and resources go into this temporary meeting of people. It takes care and thought to make the events work and coordinate the activities. And even among the products and services, one is faced with a reflection of the complex ideas that emerge in mind. It is truly an amazing experience if I touch on all these appearances without fixating on one or another.

Finally, going to this event reminds me of the complex mystery of mind. What am I here to do? To connect, to contact, or to buy something? Maybe all of these are true, or none at all. When I buy something, have I really gained something? Who gained what? When I spend money, where does the money go, and did I have it in the first place? Materials are simply going from one pocket to another, then returning back again to begin the cycle anew. If I reflect on this longer, I can see that there is nothing to feel anxious about, because the things we own are just part of a flowing cycle. Even the things I hold precious one day will start to lose their luster later, and then they become the possession of someone else who might need them more in that moment. Reflecting in this way, can mind not feel mind’s gratitude toward mind? Can it be better appreciated in this way?