Finding your infinite…
Shoonaya
How ancient Jain insights on internal and external possession liberate our attention from digital consumerism and endless notifications.
Dr. Shrenik Shah
Professor of Jain Epistemology & Practical Ethics
In the second century CE, the revered Jain philosopher Acharya Umasvati penned what remains one of the most concise and psychologically penetrating definitions of possession in world literature. In the Tattvartha Sutra, he wrote: 'Murchha parigrahah': attachment or infatuation is possession. In just two words, Umasvati dismantled the superficial assumption that possession is merely a matter of physical property deeds, gold coins, or grain stores.
To the Jain masters, a person might own vast estates but remain inwardly free if their mind does not cling to them with obsessive identification. Conversely, a wandering monk possessing only an alms bowl and a water broom might be profoundly trapped in parigraha if he harbors anxiety over someone scratching his wooden bowl. The determining factor is never the physical quantity of external items, but the internal grip of the consciousness.
Murchha implies a state of stupor, deluded infatuation, or hypnotic fixation. When we are caught in murchha, the object of our attention ceases to be a functional tool and becomes an extension of our fragile identity. The fear of losing it, the craving to multiply it, and the envy of others who possess more of it consume our vital prana.
“Attachment, infatuation, and the obsessive sense of 'mine' constitute parigraha. The soul that casts this aside tastes the unblemished nectar of sovereign self-nature.”
Jain psychology takes this analysis further by categorizing parigraha into two distinct realms: Bahiranga (outer) and Antaranga (inner). While outer possessions include land, dwellings, wealth, vehicles, and livestock, the inner possessions number fourteen and represent the true psychological prison.
These fourteen internal knots include the foundational wrong view (Mithyatva), three genders of craving, six minor affective faults (laughter, indulgence, dissatisfaction, sorrow, fear, disgust), and the four principal passions (Kashayas): anger (Krodha), pride (Mana), deceit (Maya), and greed (Lobha).
When observed through this ancient lens, our modern smartphone addiction is revealed not as a technological problem, but as an acute manifestation of Antaranga parigraha. The compulsive urge to check notifications is driven by fear of missing out (Bhaya), the desire for social validation feeds pride (Mana), curated social media profiles cultivate deceit (Maya), and the endless hoarding of articles, bookmarks, and video queues represents pure psychological greed (Lobha).
Consider the common modern habit of keeping fifty browser tabs open across multiple devices. We convince ourselves that these tabs represent useful information we will consult 'later.' In reality, each tab acts as an open cognitive loop in our working memory, demanding a subtle background allotment of neural energy.
Our ancestors possessed physical libraries that had clear material boundaries. Today, we carry the Library of Alexandria in our pockets, yet we suffer from profound intellectual and spiritual indigestion. We gather podcasts we never hear, download books we never read, and bookmark essays we never contemplate. We have substituted the hoarding of physical objects for the hoarding of unassimilated digital signals.
This ceaseless acquisition creates a state of sensory restlessness that makes sitting in quiet meditation nearly impossible. The mind, accustomed to rapid-fire dopamine bursts and constant novelty, perceives silence as a vacuum to be filled rather than a sanctuary to be cherished.
The Jain tradition does not demand that every householder renounce all possessions overnight. Instead, it offers a pragmatic, evolutionary path through the vow of Parigraha Parimana: the deliberate, voluntary setting of boundaries upon one's possessions and consumption.
A seeker commits to specific numerical caps: 'I will own no more than ten shirts; I will retain only three pairs of shoes; I will not buy new books until the current ones are read.' In the digital realm, this translates directly to digital hygiene: establishing an absolute cap on device screen time, deleting non-essential apps, declaring device-free sabbath days, and ruthlessly pruning digital subscriptions.
When you consciously decline to consume, acquire, or hoard, an extraordinary lightness enters the psyche. You discover that your true worth was never dependent on what you acquired or displayed. In the spacious freedom of aparigraha, the authentic radiance of the soul (Shuddha Atman) begins to shine forth.
Perform an unmerciful digital purge: Close every browser tab, archive unread newsletters, and remove distracting social apps from your home screen.
Establish a Sundown Boundary: Place all phones, tablets, and laptops in a designated charging basket outside the bedroom at least one hour before sleep.
Observe an Attention Fast: Choose one half-day per week (such as Sunday morning) where no digital screens are touched, spending the time in nature, silent walking, or face-to-face dialogue.
Practice mental release: When an opinionated controversy arises online or in conversation, silently pause and let go of the urge to comment or possess the final word.
About the Author
Dr. Shah has lectured internationally on the intersection of Jain ascetic ethics, cognitive behavioral therapy, and digital minimalism.
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