Surrender and Attachments

"There is a difference between watching the mind and controlling the mind. Watching the mind with a gentle, open attitude allows the mind to settle down and come to rest. Trying to control the mind, or trying to control the way one's spiritual practice will unfold, just stirs up more agitation and suffering."

-Bhante Henepola Gunaratana, "Eight Mindful Steps to Happiness"

Learning how to watch the mind when all my life I have been taught to control my thoughts, my words and my feelings is a powerfully challenging experience. I am certain the Buddhists would tell me it's because I am trying too hard . . . but it's remarkable how hard it is to just BE, when my life has always been about DO-ing.

I have over the past several years been brought to humbling awareness of my fierce need to control – myself, my thoughts, my feelings, my environment. Until very recently I spent an immense amount of energy fighting against being out of control in the most amazing ways, creating an abundance of misery for myself (and frequently for those I love).

My current path is one of surrender. Frequently that means reminding myself (over and over) to let go, even (or perhaps especially) when I am terrified to do so. Increasingly, however, I notice that it is not a super-human effort to let go, instead finding myself almost surprised to experience an ease, or equanimity, as I witness my life unfold. This is perhaps most surprising to me because of the immensity of life transition I find myself in. Perhaps it is because I recognize that it is the path I am being called to, and so I am walking it, even though I can’t see where it is going. That in-and-of-itself is simultaneously terrifying and well . . . not. It just IS.

In between my moments of equanimity, mind you, I continue to be chagrined by how much my thoughts and behaviour are driven by deep fear. Somehow I keep thinking I should be more evolved than to be so driven by fear. Of course, as a recent article I read pointed out, I create my own suffering by judging my suffering (or in this case, by judging my experience of fear.)

Buddhists talk about releasing attachments (be they to joy or to sadness) for happiness in this lifetime, and I recognize in this wisdom the core of my life-long angst. From a young age I have grasped, with tight fists, to whatever I have, or want, or feel I need, should have . . . terrified of the idea of loss. This pattern of attachment has meant that I have held on to many things, including relationships, long after they have ceased to be healthy for me. Of course, this has often led to much discomfort for both myself and for the people around me.

One of the less obvious ways that attachment shows up is in the stories we are attached to - about ourselves, about others, about 'the way things are.’ It is amazing how powerfully we can stay unconsciously attached to a story that stopped serving us many years ago. It is especially humbling for me when I finally become fully aware of I have contributed to holding onto a story by unconsciously re-creating in my life over and over again.

For example, my story, for a long time, was that I had to do everything myself and essentially, things would fall apart if I didn't take care of them. Funny enough, this often appeared to be true . . . until I finally became aware that on an unconscious level I was helping to engineer that story. When others tried to help, I got in their way such that they couldn’t really help me. You know - 'supervising, doing it for them, etc., or I simply set people up by not clearly articulating my need/desire for help (not that I would have admitted that in the moment) or best yet - I simply did it myself, without asking for help, telling myself, "what's the point - no one will help anyway."

Once I began to recognize the story for what it is - a story, and my part in creating and maintaining it, I am able to choose how I want to be with it. As a starting point, I am able to witness myself acting it out, and just notice it, or find the humour in it, or pause in the process and choose a different behaviour. Whatever I choose, by recognizing the story, I am then able to begin to release it.

As I walk this path of surrender, it continues to mean letting go in ways big and small, again and again and again. Next month, it will mean letting go, physically, of much of what I own in the world. I have been mentally/emotionally letting go of those possessions, bit by bit, for months as I have moved towards this decision to sell off or give away the belongings I have kept in storage for almost two years. What finally tipped the decision for me was connecting with the stories I have nurtured around those belongings; stories of who I ‘should be’ by ‘this age’ and what I ‘should have,’ and the home ‘I deserve,’ and ‘what it says about me’ if I have furniture that matches or if I don’t.

And so I find, as I let go of the stories, that I am far more ready to let go of the stuff. When I realize that the beautiful, almost new chocolate brown couch is just that – a couch, no matter how new or beautiful, and not a representation of a life I ‘could have’ . . . then I am ready to be released from the weight of carrying it around with me.

Of course, all of this clarity doesn’t mean I won’t have a good cry (or 3 or 4) when I see all my possessions walk away with other people, but it does mean I have absolute confidence that I will be ok, however things turn out. It does mean that, increasingly, I trust that the universe will take care of me, and I don’t have to work quite so hard manage it all.

As I reflect on this prospect of finally letting go of my things, I feel my ego reaching out for that feeling of satisfaction – of the ‘look what I did – I got rid of all of my stuff,’ and I let go of that too. I return to my awareness of the connection between attachment and suffering - and I notice, with gentle humour, that I have been playing with the idea of selling/purging everything for almost 2 years. I recognize that over this time my attachment to the story that I "must let go of my attachments" that has made this journey so much more painful than it ever needed to be. Oh well - now I am choosing to let go because I am ready - not because I 'should,' and not surprisingly, I am not suffering for it.

What If?

How often do we torture ourselves with "what if" questions? How often do we look back at a situation and ask "what if I just . . . . (done, said, thought, been . . . different)???"

But what are the bigger "what if" questions?

What if my actions, and the events in my life aren't really who I am?

What if my thoughts aren’t really mine? What if they are a creation of the world I live in? The society values that helped shape me? The parents that brought me up? The experiences I’ve had and the messages I’ve heard and internalized without sufficient filters?

What if I’m not wrong – just because no one agrees with me . . . or What if I’m not right just because everyone does? More profoundly, what if it really doesn’t matter if I’m wrong or right? What if being right isn’t a measure of any part of my worth, including my sanity?

What if truly I am a manifestation of the divine? What if I really do have a message to carry to the world and I have a responsibility to step up to that plate? What if it doesn’t matter whether I do or not – I can still be a whole and worthy and loveable person if I do nothing?

What if I really am special? What if I’m not?

What if . . I am as special as everyone else????

What if my path in this life is to walk alone? What if it’s not? How different does my vision look? How different are my choices?

What if I can’t know what my path is until I accept that I can’t know?

What if the very process of asking the questions is the purpose, the path . . . and here I am on it.

The Power of Words

How does one start a blog?

Should my first entry be a deep philosophical questions . . . or something lighter and of general interest about my life?

How important is what I have to say here anyway? I am just another blogger, writer, person-at-a-keyboard among millions of others tapping away in much the same way. And yet, I am struck by the power that others’ writing has had for me . . . of the moments in which a message has become the right message because it came at the right time, in the right words and from the right source (at that moment) to get through . . . to land and to leave an imprint.

So . . . what impact will my words have? What responsibility do I have for the trail that I leave here? Although the saying, “Actions speak louder than words” is commonly accepted wisdom, I have learned that words ARE actions – powerful ones. “Words are not innocent. The language we use shapes the realities we live in and the realities we create” (Kotzé and Roux (2002).

As I think about the language that I use, I know that the words I choose are both a direct reflection, and the creators, of how I feel about myself and the world in the moment I am choosing them. When I use language that reflects personal responsibility, hope and spiritual connection, I feel grounded, connected and positive. When I use language that is cynical, angry and hopeless . . . I generate and grow those feelings within me and manifest them into my environment. As a coach, consultant and educator, I recognize that my words and actions are powerful, and can have significant impact, whether I intend them to or not.

So what do I do with that responsibility?

Ghandi charges us to “Be the change you want to see in the world.” What is the change I want to see in the world?

I want to see a world that is inspired. I understand that this means I need to be an inspiration. I want to live in a world of authenticity and deep compassion. I have no choice, then, but to be authentic and live with deep compassion. I want a world that honours and celebrates the inherent worth and dignity of every being, and the interconnected web of life, of which we are all a part. I am compelled to live those values, else I cannot demand them of the world.

So this is my journey . . . to be the change I want to see in the world. To live, fully authentically, from a place of compassion and reverence and stewardship for the earth and all the beings on it. And just as my actions send powerful messages, so too do the words that I choose, so I must choose my words mindfully, as I share my journey, so that they too are authentic, inspiring and compassionate.