“Most of our troubles are due to our passionate desire for and attachment to things that we misapprehend as enduring entities.” ~Dalai Lama
When I was a little girl, I had a deep attachment to a ragged yellow dog I affectionately named Mushy and a tattered yellow blanket I think I saved untilI I was married. Their constant place in my life gave me a sense of comfort. The mere possession of them was enough. In a world that’s noisy, quick and contradictory, ownership in things offer safety and control.
The problem is that the more things we are attached to, the more we worry about them. From the fear that the toaster is left on when you leave the house to the moths in the closet making holes in your favorite sweater, attachment to things come with a price. And that doesn’t go away as we mature.
My parents own a beautiful black car. They love driving it. Washing it. Admiring its shine. It’s speed. It’s digital display. They go to great lengths to park it in a spot away from all other cars and possible danger. We recently ate lunch together and luckily, my parents got a spot right outside the big restaurant windows allowing them to keep constant vigil of their beloved possession. Anyone in the vicinity of our table, if they were even remotely listening, would get continuous updates as to the status of the car, who parked behind or in front of the car, how close that driver came to endangering the car with their poor driving abilities and, as an added bonus, my parent’s opinion of that person based on their driving skills and the proximity of their car to that of my parent’s. Our relaxing lunch was in direct competition with their watchful eye. I couldn’t help but wonder if their attachment was all that healthy.
Seth Segall, in “Letting Go: What it means. How to do it.” explains that the Buddhist define attachment as a static and inflexible clinging. We can cling to things, relationships, ideas and expectations. When there is a rigidity in our attachments, or cravings, unhappiness often ensues. Segall describes cravings as “intense desires that are fixated on a particular object or experience. There is a tightness, rigidity, stereotypy, or “must-ness” about them—like the addict craving a fix; the overeater, a binge; the miser, more wealth. Satisfying a craving leads to transitory pleasure, but as the pleasure fades, more craving ensues. Cravings have a way of taking over our lives and enslaving us.”
So how do we let go of the worn stuffed animals, the shiny black cars, a package of cookies when we are lonely or the grand expectations that life should be a certain way? How do we acknowledge that setting fires in the kitchen, burning dinners, yelling at our children and serving potato salad out of plastic containers are all part of our imperfect adventure? We practice. We practice mindfulness, “we sit in meditation, practicing letting go. Breath by breath. Moment by moment. Again and again. We observe the places where we get caught, where we get stuck, the places where we get tight, the places where we separate ourselves from the moment with thoughts about how the moment ought to be. And we breathe. And we let go, loosen and unfold.”1
Adina Kelman
www.alifeinbalance.co
1 http://www.elephantjournal.com/2011/07/letting-go-what-it-means-how-to-do-it/