Tag: non-attachment

  • What It Means to Live Life with Open Palms and How This Sets Us Free

    What It Means to Live Life with Open Palms and How This Sets Us Free

    “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything—anger, anxiety, or possessions—we cannot be free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Roughly one year ago, I was having the time of my life.

    Everything seemed to be going well. My stress levels were at an all-time low. I was enjoying myself in a new city. Work was engaging. My meditations were deep and fulfilling.

    And when I looked back on things one year later, I was kind of, well, frustrated.

    Because things haven’t been going that smoothly lately. Don’t get me wrong; they haven’t been terrible. I’m in a loving relationship, and I’ve achieved a couple of significant milestones this year, but some aspects of life have been challenging.

    A couple of months ago I was talking to a meditation teacher who I occasionally consult when I’m having issues with my practice. I was honest about my situation, and my frustration with it.

    So I asked her what I was genuinely thinking; why doesn’t it feel like things are as good as they were twelve months ago?

    And what she told me stunned me. I mean, it really left me thinking.

    “You need to start living life with open palms. You tried to grasp onto the good times you had, and the experience has gone. But any challenges you have now will also go, you just need to hold onto them softly, with open palms.”

    The metaphor was so poignant. It made complete sense. I could feel myself grasping onto the idea of the old scenario and making dozens of assumptions about the new one.

    And those words stuck with me. They truly resonated. In fact, echoed might be a better description, because since then, whenever I’ve started to stress and hold onto my problems too tightly, the image of two open palms would arise and drift around the back of my mind, calling me to pay attention to it.

    There’s a reason why this metaphor is so accurate—the left cerebral hemisphere, which we use for focused attention, is also responsible for the grabbing motion our hand makes. The right hemisphere on the other hand (pun absolutely intended) is used for both open-minded thinking and open exploratory motions. So when someone tells you to hold on or to let go, they’re telling you what to do with your mind, not just your hands.

    So over the last few weeks, I’ve tried to reflect on what this means from a practical perspective, and while teachings like this take years to really digest, I’ve come up with a few ways in which you can start to live life with open palms, right now.

    Appreciate things momentarily.

    At first, I didn’t really understand why this was important. To only appreciate things for a split second seemed to be to under-appreciate or even neglect them. But I soon realized that when I was trying too hard to enjoy something, I ended up quickly telling myself a story about how good it was—and soon enough I wasn’t actually experiencing the object anymore, I was enjoying the idea of it.

    By making a conscious attempt to appreciate things momentarily, I’ve been able to achieve two things. Firstly, I get used to short-term experiences so when pleasure leaves, it’s okay because I know something else will come soon. And secondly, I’m able to focus on the direct experience and not get lost in my judgments about it.

    Remind myself about the transience of things.

    This is relevant to letting the momentary experiences go.

    Whenever I see a pleasure arise, whether it’s a nicely cooked meal, a Netflix show, a hot shower, or just sitting down after a long day, I try to remind myself that it will soon pass and something else will replace is.

    When I’m experiencing less pleasurable states, like physical discomfort, boredom, tiredness, or even pain, I similarly try to watch it come and watch it go, not getting too attached either way.

    Identify with my experience over my narrative.

    Though relatively simple, this idea is incredibly profound.

    My worry over whether or not I was better off than twelve months prior was largely rooted in the story I was telling myself. The story, once I had told it enough times, quickly became my experience.

    If however, I had just been focusing on the sensations I was having in each moment, there would have been no ruminating on the past, and a lot of the problems I was creating for myself simply would’ve ceased to exist.

    Don’t shy away from pleasure.

    One of the ways we protect ourselves from subtle feelings such as a fear of loss or feelings of not being worthy is by not allowing ourselves to fully appreciate positive experiences when we have them. It takes a certain kind of vulnerability to give ourselves over to pleasure, and oftentimes there is an unconscious shield between us and our experience that may manifest itself in slight muscular tension or distracting thoughts.

    I’ve made a conscious effort to focus on getting the most out of joyful moments when they come up and not holding back from completely enjoying them.

    Question my relationship to time.

    A lot of the suffering that comes from our experience arises because we can’t help but compare it to another moment in time. In my own case, it was because I was arbitrarily using the marker of a year to make judgments about how I should’ve been feeling.

    I felt that this year should be as good as or better than last year. Not only is it pointless to make the comparison, but it’s impossible to do so accurately. When we’re told to be present and not focus too heavily on the past or the future, it’s not only practical advice, it’s rational advice; our ideas about time are incredibly skewed and often dictated in large part by our emotional state in that moment.

    The ways by which I’ve been trying to live life with open palms are nothing groundbreaking. They’re tried and tested ideas that most of us have already had some exposure to. What is difficult, however, is our ability to remember these in any given moment, when they should be most useful.

    We can do this by anchoring ourselves to the ideas, whether through a mantra, a memorable metaphor, or simply just repeated exposure, as you’re doing right now reading this article.

    How have you tried to live life with open palms? Let us know in the comments. We’d love to hear from you!

  • How Non-Attachment Can Benefit Your Relationship

    How Non-Attachment Can Benefit Your Relationship

    “You only lose what you cling to.” ~Buddha

    I remember one of my first mindfulness classes that pertained to impermanence. I went home in a bit of a slump.

    Nothing is permanent; everything ends; “This too shall pass.” It was quite a shock to the system.

    After getting over what, on a surface level, seemed to be incredibly dire, I realized that this could be incredibly liberating.

    Enter the principle of non-attachment, a notion that has the potential to aid in the evolving nature of day-to-day life.

    Rather than clinging to things—relationships, jobs, material goods—hoping that they will last forever, or being fearful that the uncomfortable parts of our lives will never change, we learn to deal with the moments as they arise.

    There is power in knowing that our moments can, and will, inevitably shift.

    Knowing the good won’t last forever gives us permission to embrace the moment fully without clinging or depending on it.

    Acknowledging that the bad won’t last forever gives us strength to move forward instead of being caught up in helplessness and insight to make shifts and changes if need be.

    Impermanence is a blessing in disguise. And non-attachment is the only way to truly forgive and love another person.

    Sounds counterintuitive, doesn’t it? How can non-attachment possibly lead to a happy, fulfilled relationship?

    Here’s how.

    In my last relationship, I prided myself on being honest and open. I didn’t want to play games, because that’s not the sort of person I am, nor the sort of man I wanted to attract into my life.

    I wanted a guarantee that he would stick around and that our relationship was progressing. I wanted to know that he wasn’t going to just disappear from my life, a dialogue from my past that prickled at my defense mechanisms and inevitably pushed him away, too.

    This made me fearful and scared, and I shut down intermittently. This invisible pressure burdened both of us.

    The hard truth is that there are no guarantees.

    Of course, there were other factors in our relationship. The point here is that there was also an unhealthy attachment present; I became dependent on him, and I clung.

    I was like a child who was holding onto a baby animal, who was so scared of it running away that I held it tightly, suffocating it.

    Non-attachment means that you are able to live your life outside of the other person; it ultimately takes pressure off and allows you to be without depending on anything or anyone to feed your soul.

    Clinging onto things—relationships, jobs, materials goods—simply does not make sense considering their evolving nature.

    These things add to your life, but they are not your life. You’re all that’s guaranteed, and even you grow and change, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

    This doesn’t mean that past lessons or past behaviors can’t or won’t guide your present actions or that future goals aren’t important. Instead, it means that you can live out your moments naturally and organically, with appreciation and/or awareness, because you aren’t leaning on something that might change or shift.

    Non-attachment in relationships is not indifference or apathy to another person. It’s an absence of fear. Fear and clinginess come from a sense of impending loss.

    However, if we go into a relationship or exist in a relationship already knowing that things may change or shift (for better or worse), we rid ourselves of pressure and burdening expectations. We can approach the relationship and issues with an open heart and simply see what unfolds naturally.

    Relinquishing (some) control is scary, but not impossible.

    This is not to be confused with blind acceptance of things that aren’t satisfying.

    Existing in the unattached present moment acknowledges what is actually happening now and gives us the power and capacity to shift or change a situation, which is also applicable to a relationship that isn’t what you want, need, or deserve.

    I know many couples who are staying together, even if it hasn’t been working for years and years, because it was “so good long ago.”

    I’m an advocate for working through things, but ultimately, the present is all that is relevant.

    As far as relationships go, I was once told that some people you simply get for a season, some people appear in your life intermittently, and some people stay around for longer and forever, if you’re lucky.

    The catch is that you ultimately don’t know which category the person you’re dating or in a relationship with is or will be in, and red flags aside, there is no way to know.

    However, being unattached, open, and aware is a key ingredient to experiencing a relationship organically and observing what may unfold.

  • The Key to Loving Yourself, Other People, and Life

    The Key to Loving Yourself, Other People, and Life

    Love

    “Has it ever occurred to you that you can only love when you are alone?” ~Anthony De Mello

    I was sitting in my therapist’s waiting room when I looked over at an assortment of books sitting on the coffee table. One caught my attention right away: The Way to Love, by Anthony de Mello.

    “This looks like something I should read right about now.” I giggled a little with that thought.

    I was, after all, sitting in a psychotherapist’s waiting room because he was the only thing keeping me from a nervous breakdown. My marriage was falling apart and I felt so utterly lost. Perhaps a book about love would help me navigate this painful period of my life.

    I finished my session and hurried home to my iPad. Within seconds, the book came alive on my screen. I perused the chapters at first but stopped dead in my tracks on page 137:

    Has it ever occurred to you that you can only love when you are alone? What does it mean to love? It means to see a person, a thing, a situation, as it really is and not as you imagine it to be, and to give it the response it deserves. You cannot love what you do not even see.

    “This makes no sense at all! How can I love only when I’m alone?” I put the book down.

    I had no idea what De Mello was saying, but that first sentence stayed in my mind and heart.

    Then came some alone time. A lot of it.

    For the next two years, I lived in solitude. My days were filled with meditation, long hikes in nature, writing, introspection, and at times, a deep loneliness.

    I accepted all that life was bringing me. I embraced the hours upon hours of silence and no human contact. In fact, this solitude was self-imposed.

    The disintegration of my marriage had brought some ingrained subconscious patterns to light.

    In the past, whenever life sent something painful my way, I would take refuge in my outer world—friends, bars, alcohol, sex, traveling. They all served as distractions because I was deeply afraid of looking inward. My inner world seemed too complex and dark to even touch.

    Yet, distracting myself with things on the outside hadn’t protected me from pain. In fact, I finally realized the opposite was true: life always mirrors your internal environment back to you.

    If you want to keep your pain, anger, and darkness hidden, life will bring you painful, angry, dark events.

    It’s really that simple. 

    With that realization, I decided to resist the temptations that often follow a break-up, hence my self-imposed solitude.

    I didn’t move to the jungle. I still saw family and some friends. But I made a conscious decision to spend the majority of my days alone, in silence.

    And then one day I got it. I understood what De Mello said in that book. I was living it.

    Solitude had taught me how to love, and with an intensity I never thought possible.

    I learned to love from the inside out. And that love took three forms.

    Love of Myself

    Self-love came first. I had always used people or things outside myself to sustain my dismally fragile self-esteem. Being alone forces you to look inward and see what lies in your inner world.

    Make no mistake: this can be a difficult and painful process.

    But seeing and accepting your inner world is the only way to love the glorious being that dwells beneath all the mental layers.

    This may take some time, and it may bring a swirl of emotions to the surface. That’s okay. Just let them be.

    Let it all see the light of day, without judgment. No matter what lies in your inner world, always remember to put your hand on your heart and tell yourself “I love you.”

    We’re all trying the best we can at any given moment. Cut yourself some slack and let go of the “could have, should have…”

    See your inner world. Accept everything that lies within, without judgment. Through it all, put your hand on your chest and tell yourself “I love you.” That’s it.

    I realize that seeing and accepting our inner world may not be easy at first. For me, the trick was daily meditation.

    This quieted my mind significantly. Since it’s the mind or ego that judges, once the internal chatter calmed down, it became easier to use my awareness to see the beauty of my heart.

    For you it can be different. Perhaps your mind quiets down with exercise or a walk in the park. Just remember: a quiet mind is the foundation for self-love.

    Self-love then becomes an internal light that you shine in all directions as you walk through life. And that is how you end up loving others.

    Love of Others

    Even with all that alone time, I still managed to fall in love again. This time it was different. Because I loved myself, the love I could give another was purer, stronger, and completely unconditional. I loved without attachment. 

    I also felt a different love for my family and friends. I began to love people for who they were. I loved them in freedom.

    Loving people without attachment was a monumental milestone for me. It was the process of self-love that had enabled me to reach this milestone.

    In learning to love myself, I realized I used people as emotional crutches in order to sustain my sense of worth.

    Once I recognized this pattern and sat with the temporary guilt it elicited, I began to feel lighter. The lighter I felt, the more I loved myself. And the more I loved myself, the more I loved others.

    I no longer needed them. I was now standing on my own, without crutches. In this newly found independence, there were no conditions. My happiness no longer depended on what others did or said.

    Without crutches, your hands are free to extend to others. And that’s really what it means to love without attachment.

    Love of Life

    Solitude showed me the beauty of the present moment. I realized how life was glorious, intense, and alive!

    The little moments became memorable. Seeing a bird fly or a flower bloom was a miracle. Because I no longer focused my attention on mental drama, I could experience the fullness of life.

    Experiencing this fullness meant that I trusted life. I knew that what came to me was there for my evolution.

    Loving life meant that I loved everything that came my way.

    Can you learn to love without being physically alone? Yes. Fortunately, solitude can be experienced without running off to a deserted island!

    You can experience solitude in your heart. That is essentially what De Mello was referring to in his quote. In my experience, solitude is a synonym of non-attachment.

    Experiencing solitude in your heart means that you do not depend on anyone or anything in order to bring you happiness or love. You live with the knowing that what you may desire from another is always available to you.

    What you may desire from the outside world is already within.

    This knowing is then naturally reflected in your outer world. You can live solitude in your heart while surrounded by people.

    And it is this solitude that ultimately allows you to genuinely love. Love yourself. Love others. Love life.

    Love image via Shutterstock

  • Nothing Is Permanent: Letting Go of Attachment to People

    Nothing Is Permanent: Letting Go of Attachment to People

    “Impermanence is not something to be afraid of. It’s the evolution, a never-ending horizon.” ~Deepak Chopra

    I have been reading a lot lately on attachment and impermanence. It’s a big topic, one that is often hard to wrap your head and heart around. How can I live a life without attachment? Doesn’t that mean that I am not being a loving or caring person? I mean really, no attachment—it just seems cold.

    This all started for me when the love of my life told me, “I love you, I am just not in love with you.” Ouch.

    To say I was hurt would be a gross understatement. How could someone who I felt such strong love for not reciprocate the same feelings? This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. We were together, attached forever, remember? Wrong.

    While I didn’t like it and I didn’t want to, I had to accept what I’d heard. Sure, I fought it for a while, told myself little fairy tales that she would change her mind and come back. The call never came, my love letter did not arrive in the mail, the “here I am on your doorstep” never occurred.

    It was over, and it was time for me to move forward, but how?

    I would like to say that I held my head high and just moved forward with dignity and grace.

    I would like to say I had a secret potion to “get over” the love of my life. I wish I could tell you of a magic book I read or twelve steps to follow to heal a broken heart. Those things I cannot offer, but I can offer you hope.

    Days after we parted ways I had an overwhelming urge to walk in nature. All I wanted to do was walk by myself, and that’s exactly what I quietly did. Day after day, rain or shine, I took my little heartache out for a walk in the forest until it was exhausted.

    A funny thing started to happen after a few weeks of walking. I started to notice the trees, how beautiful they were, tall, strong, and magnificent.

    I started to hear the sound of the birds, the leaves blowing, the babbling of the creek, and the crackle of the earth under my feet. I started to step outside of my head and heartache, and I started to notice the things around me. It was beautiful, fresh, and amazing.

    As my heart started to take in the grace of my surroundings each day on my walks, I felt little pieces of my broken heart start to heal. My self-talk of “why me” drifted away with each step.

    I began to stop thinking about my loss of love and started to think about how lucky I was to have experienced love. I opened myself to gratitude rather than attachment and loss.

    I had attachment to a person, an ideal, a hope. In many ways I had attached my personal happiness to this person.

    In my mind the love of my life was attached and permanent, to me and for me. As I have now learned nothing in life is permanent. If we can appreciate this reality, we can open ourselves to cherish “now” moments.

    Love is not about attachment or permanence. Love is about spending time with another person, sharing moments, experiences, and each other.

    The moment we make it about “keeping” another for our own gain, our own need, it becomes about our ego, fears, and insecurities. A mindful, compassionate, kind being only wishes happiness and love for others. Sometimes happiness and love for others is moving on and letting go.

    Months have gone by and I still walk in the forest. My heart does not ache as I walk, though.

    I think of the many wonderful memories. I feel full of gratitude thinking of the magnitude of wonderful times, the laughter, and the love. I cherish those memories and I think I am pretty lucky that I was able to share those wonderful experiences of love with another person.

    The trees, the forest, they remind me of the simplicity of our beautiful life. While each day is different and ever changing, I still see the splendor and magnificence. Each tree holds its own life; it is an individual amongst many others, just as we are as humans.

    When I walk in the forest today I am reminded that I can appreciate the beauty of each tree, just as I can appreciate the beauty of love I share with each person.

    With a deep breath and a full heart, I know just as my relationship is to the trees, so is my relationship with others. Free of the idea of attachment and permanence, we are able to see the simple beauty of this moment, now.