Raga and the Baseball
Robin Cohen
Kleshas – Raga
A couple of months ago, I was in a physical therapy office doing exercise, when I heard another client talking loudly about a prized possession – her signed baseball. And she continued to speak of this baseball for any and all who were in the room. She told the story of her acquisition of the baseball many times, making certain that everyone present had the opportunity to hear it.
And she made such statements as, “I have ___________________'s signature right here. Can you believe it?”
And, “Every single person on the team signed this. They all touched this ball.”
After a time I tuned out what was transpiring with regard to the ball. And then a loud shout brought me back.
“It’s gone! Somebody stole it! It was right here, and now it’s gone! I thought the people here were honest.” She had turned from friend to non-friend in an instant.
She went on and on. People were staring. Exercise came to a virtual halt.
The woman began walking around, looking under the tables where people were sitting, lifting women’s purses, walking into private offices. It was as though she had earned the right to invade the personal space of others.
Most of us in the office got involved. Women looked in their purses “just in case.” I did this, though I realized the absurdity of doing so.
Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. I was drained. I just wanted the woman to stop talking. And then she sat down (It reminded me of a protest strike) and settled in. It appeared she wouldn’t be leaving until the prized ball was found and returned.
After a time one of the physical therapists wandered out from his behind the scenes office. He looked around and asked what was wrong.
A lengthy explanation from the ball’s owner followed.
A look of amazement flitted across the physical therapist’s face, but he managed to return to neutral in a couple of seconds. Making an about face, he walked back to his office, returning seconds later with baseball in hand.
“Don’t you remember me saying I would put this in my office for safekeeping while you were away from the table?”
“No,” the ball’s owner replied. “I guess I didn’t hear you.”
The woman joyously bounced up to get her baseball. All was right with the world.
Or was it?
This woman was attached to an inanimate object!
The object, a baseball, had been signed by several former ballplayers, proof that they had touched said ball, making the inanimate object even more special to the woman. Had she been able to part with this object, she could have sold it to someone who, like herself, was enamored with signatures. She’d have been paid far more for the baseball because of the inky lines adorning it.
The woman had invaded the thoughts of everyone in the room.
Each of us, in her eyes, had become suspect of having stolen her possession.
What did the woman neglect to understand?
That although the ball had been signed by famous players, it was worth more money than an unsigned ball simply because people were willing to pay more for it.
That the famous people who signed the ball cared nothing for the woman who owned it. They knew nothing of her existence when they affixed their signatures to the ball.
That a signature is not a person. It represents a person, and is evidence that a particular person was close enough to an object to sign it.
That she had selfishly overtaken an entire room because of her attachment to an object.
That she had demeaned herself by becoming suspicious of every single person in the room.
That rather than seeing the fault as her own, she had put the blame on everyone else.
That someone had tried to help her, yet her lack of attention caused the existence of the entire situation.
Raga is the third obstacle, or klesha. It means “attachment.” And here is a situation in which raga brought out undesirable qualities in a person. What the woman failed to understand is that a signed baseball is nothing more than a signed baseball. Some people, ballplayers specifically, at one point in time gathered round a ball to take holding a pen to use for signing their names onto the ball. I’d guess that five minutes after they signed they forgot about having done so. And yet the ball made its way into the world and wound up with a woman who became quite attached. And her attachment caused distress for several people on one afternoon when they were together in a room. Would her attachment cause further stress?
Objects are often an unnecessary distraction in our lives. And our lives can be made far simpler when we are able to release these objects. (I once gave away something I possessed for 90 days in a row – a sadhana. It felt terrific)!
Each of us should begin to release those things that have a grip on us, and make note of the unencumbered feelings that result. One small step at a time, we can work to release raga from our lives.