This week, our series of reflections from CFM teachers continues with this piece by Ruth Folchman, on learning about attachment and how to let go.
I have been thinking about my relationship to Things. How I appreciate these Things that hold memories and meaning. How my house, my cupboards, my closets are full of Things that I know about: I remember for almost everything when and why I have it. Really! Like the necklace that I had made with some money that I got from my father when he sold part of the farm where I grew up. I chose this beautiful deep green turquoise, appreciating its beauty in part because of the many faults and fractures… so representative of life on that farm, full of beauty and nature and so very imperfect. I wore it constantly for years, a reminder to be grateful for the many gifts of that farm. And then time passed and I stopped wearing it, just moved on to the next Thing.
And then my father died this past Spring, and again I pulled it out, wanted again to be reminded of farm and father. I touched it and my heart-mind softened, opening to memories and the gentle sadness that comes with a loss.
And then, just recently, I lost the necklace… knew exactly where I’d been, out to dinner and it was there, then not. I went again and again to lost and found: Nothing. Still nothing. Again, nope.
So here’s the thing about why I practice: it’s not so I don’t feel, but so I know clearly what I’m feeling. I knew my sadness… know it still. Knew my frustration and anger, my judgment and cynicism, that someone found it and kept it. I could feel myself tightening, becoming small as the days passed.
And then I had a moment of clarity, an awareness that all my intense feelings would not bring that necklace back… would not bring my father back. I could sense my mind and body slowing down as I turned away from the grinding sense of loss and turned towards… what? What was possible? And I thought of those worldly winds of change, the ever-constant flow of gain and loss: Yes! This loss, this is how it is right now. And I could feel my heart-mind soften, as I thought of this person, who I hope has found this beautiful necklace, and I could imagine that they must need it in some way, some wanting place within them driving them to hold onto it. And I could send them a wish that they feel its power and appreciate it in whatever way has meaning for them.
Because these Things that we collect and hold onto represent something, and yet… the map is not the territory… meaning can we trust our capacity to know what we care about and value in mind and heart? Can I trust that my experience in the present moment, when for whatever reason, the past becomes present and memories, images, and feelings arise… can I trust my capacity to open to my heart and mind and know what is here for me? Because if I can trust that, then maybe the Things aren’t so important and I can soften my grip on them. Maybe that’s how we open more fully to what else might be here, arising and offering itself to us?