I’ve read that we are not supposed to be attached to things in our life. We’re not even supposed to be that attached to people in our life. Detachment is key. Believing that everything and everyone is just “borrowed” to you. Items we collect should not be the source of joy, we need to figure out how to just carry that joy within ourselves. The way monks do. With zilch possessions.
The first time I read Think Like a Monk by Jay Shetty, when I got to that part of the book, it totally made sense to me. Maybe because within my own constitution I can be cold and unfeeling at times. My older sister used to say I got that from our Mom. Which kind of paints an unflattering picture of me, especially considering that I’m a mother to four children. It’s not that I don’t give them hugs and kisses or show affection. That’s actually one of my favourite parts of having little ones is the millions of hugs and kisses in a day. But in certain situations, probably not involving my kids, I am able to put up this invisible wall between myself and whatever the object or subject is. It’s immediate and it’s solid.
It just makes sense to me that the more attached we are to things and people, the harder you make your life. Enjoy what and who is there while you have them, but know that at some point you will have to let go and say goodbye. I tried to explain this concept to my partner, using his dad as an example. They are very very close. Like talk on the phone three times a day close. They are each other’s best friend. I said to him, doesn’t it make sense to stay detached from your dad so that when the time comes where one of you are not of this earth, the goodbye won’t ruin your life? He looked at me like I had two heads. Detachment doesn’t equate unfeeling.
It’s a bit harder to wrap your head around it when you use a really close loved one’s death as an example. That’s kind of the most extreme of situations I guess. In terms of possessions, I also want to be detached. My decor is the opposite of minimalism. I have so many “things” and each trip to the thrift store only brings me more. And I have no intention of stopping anytime soon. Old pictures, old frames, antiques or even just retro items. My kids say the house is like a museum. Some might say it’s cluttered. I love it.
What I have to keep in mind though is, even though I hold these things dear, I can’t take them with me when I go. My time on earth is borrowed and my personal belongings are also borrowed. I don’t want to become so attached to them that removing them from me or me from them causes me to feel sad in any way. They’re just things. I don’t have this concept down pat yet, but this prompt was a really good reminder.
bloom.planted.north 
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