Attachment

I do not claim to be Buddhist, though I've read and appreciated a fair amount of spiritual literature over the years based on Buddhist concepts. The principle that always causes me a pang of discomfort is the hard truth of impermanence and the idea that human suffering comes from our attachment to those things that are fleeting - people, places, things.

My bicycle was stolen last week. My hot, red, sleek road bike that sliced through the air like a kite. I was firmly attached to that bike and was furious when it was taken. I realized over the ensuing 24 hours is that it wasn't the bike itself I was attached to (though it was a really nice bike!), but all that it represented: my one and only century (100 miler), grueling Cycle Oregon weekends with daily rides of 60-80 miles, tough slogs up Rocky Butte, gorgeous rides along Marine Drive or out to Sauvie's Island...This bike represented me as a fit, strong and adventurous woman. With the wind in my hair, I felt free and I felt strong, even though these days I mostly just rode the three miles to work. I was attached to the bike and to my self-image as a cyclist, however dated that might be. And so, I took a deep breath, expressed my feelings to anyone who would listen and prayed to let go (while making a police report).

Part of what brought me back to reality was a conversation I had the next day with a man who sat in my office sobbing because his wife had been diagnosed with an aggressive cancer. I'm upset over a few pieces of metal and 2 tires; this man's beloved might die. Am I "wrong" for being attached to what my bike represented? No. I'm human, with a sometimes overactive ego and a tendency to personalize inanimate objects. Is this person in error for being attached to his idea of a life with his wife? I don't think so - we humans are designed to connect. While I can logically understand that my attachments cause me pain, I also know that impermanence is all well and good until it's your wife, your job, your sense of self that is threatened.

I can use the principle of non-attachment as a guide, a reminder. Emotional pain is real, and all things change. Nothing stays the same. Nothing, be it a bicycle, a relationship or my image in the mirror.

I'm reading the new Jack Kornfield book, "No Time Like the Present - Finding Freedom, Love and Joy Right Where You Are." I put that to the test when the bike was taken. Really God, right where I am at this very moment find joy and love when I am angry and upset? Yes, really. Kornfield suggests that when we feel "stuck in a tiny part of the big picture, contracted, or caught up," we "take a breath and visualize [ourselves]stepping back" (p.12).  Another way to say,"pause when agitated or doubtful." Bill Wilson, Jack Kornfield - same thing.

Old ideas of possession, of circumstances staying the same because I want them to, of those I love being here forever, are hard to change, because they're my old ideas. And that's precisely why my spiritual quest didn't stop with putting down the drink. I continue to be confronted with choices of how to put the principles of the program into action. The Big Book says that we will come to a point where we view our troubles as an opportunity to capitalize on God's omnipotence. I'm not quite there, not automatically anyway. Progress not perfection. Detach with love. Slow down and recognize what truly matters, and accept that change is part of this amazing and confounding life.

Where does attachment trip you up? How do you practice letting go, even in the midst of an upset?