Written By - Sumita Sarkkar
Imagine, if the universe actually granted you abundance! What would you have? And, most importantly - would you be content with it?
Modern day spirituality has given rise to several buzzwords that people wear on their sleeves with pride. Many experts have also made it a source of income. And one of these words is – abundance.
Somewhere between spirituality and social media, abundance has acquired a fashionable vocabulary of its own. It is spoken of with conviction, displayed like a badge of spiritual sophistication, and invoked with the confidence of someone who believes that the universe is perpetually waiting to fulfil a wish. “I am abundant.” “I attract abundance.” “May the universe grant me abundance.” The declarations are everywhere, as though repetition alone could transform a word into a destiny.
But there is a question we seldom pause to ask: abundance of what?
Abundance, by definition, signifies a great quantity of something. It is not, in itself, a blessing. It is merely a measure of magnitude and generally used as a prefix to something. Water is abundant in a flood, but the same water becomes precious during a drought. One may have an abundance of wealth, but also an abundance of grief, enemies, anxiety, conflict or misfortune. Nature, in its indifference to our preferences, does not attach a moral value to quantity. Neither does language.
And yet, we have somehow come to treat abundance as though it were a self-contained virtue, a magical destination that requires neither qualification nor clarity.
Imagine asking the universe for an abundance of everything. Would we welcome an abundance of illness with the same enthusiasm as an abundance of health? Would we celebrate an abundance of responsibilities, disappointments and sleepless nights? If the requests were granted in its most literal sense, we might discover that our prayer had been answered perfectly, while our expectations had failed spectacularly.
Perhaps the problem lies not with the universe, but with the vagueness of our asking. There is something deeply revealing about the language we use to express our desires. We want more, but rarely examine what deserves to be multiplied.
Perhaps the universe does not need us to perfect our vocabulary. Perhaps we need to become more attentive to our intentions. Whether one understands the universe as a divine intelligence, a cosmic order or simply the unfolding of cause and consequence, clarity remains a human responsibility. No affirmation can substitute for it.
The secret, then, may not be in asking for abundance, but in developing the wisdom to specify what we wish to see flourish in our lives.
May we have an abundance of compassion, not merely admirers; an abundance of courage, not merely opportunities; an abundance of understanding, not merely information; and an abundance of inner stillness, not merely possessions.
For abundance without discernment can become excess, and excess, however attractively packaged, is not enlightenment.
The real question is not whether we have abundance. It is whether we have the wisdom to know what we are inviting into our lives.
What we call spirituality today, often packaged into fashionable buzzwords, was discovered and explored by Indian sages centuries ago, meditating in the jungles, the Himalayas and in other such places in solitude. They sought answers not in slogans or affirmations, but in silence, contemplation and an understanding of the self. Our scriptures and elders have long reminded us that knowing what to desire is just as important as fulfilling a desire.
We do not always need to ask the universe for more. Sometimes, we need to look within and understand what we already have, what we truly need, and what we would be better off without.
The wisdom is not new. What is new is the way we have learnt to package it, market it and sell it back to ourselves.
(The author is a seasoned journalist, life coach, into alternate healing therapies, nutritionist, fitness and adventure sports enthusiast, and long-distance runner)
