“Attachment is the great fabricator of illusions; reality can be attained only by someone who is detached” ~ Simon Weil

“Be attached to nothing and open to everything.” ~ Dr. William Dyer

“We must let go of the life we have planned, so as to accept the one that is waiting for us.” ~ Joseph Campbell

Attachments are really only a problem when you run up against them.

“Duh,“ you might say, but think about it.

So long as we are proceeding (or think we are proceeding) in some fashion towards the things we are attached to, they don’t cause us any pain. Which means, even the most conscious of us may be harboring deep adherence to ideas, events, lifestyles, and outcomes with no real understanding of just how profoundly we are committed to their manifestation.

I have, in my own way, spent a lot of time letting go of the life towards which I thought I was headed. I have wrestled, fought, cried, mourned, and surrendered.  And I am so very clear that I am better for it – my life more purposeful and meaningful, more joyous and sweetly tender.

But now I’m up against an attachment that I have no idea how to let go of, an attachment so strong that I actually feel physically ill at the thought of not achieving it.

It’s not that I haven’t been aware that this attachment existed. In fact, it’s been a driving force, the harbor towards which my compass was set… but I always sort of assumed that, if I did my self-work, helped others in theirs, and was generally useful, time would eventually bring it to pass. And while I fretted over it, I never really owned the idea that it may not, in fact, be in the cards.

And now it’s up… and it’s up BIG TIME.

And I realize how unimportant all those things I’ve already let go of really were; there’s not one of them who’s loss was as unimaginable, nor without which life seemed so inconceivable, or, at least, pointless.

So what do you do when you’re a conscious person, aware that the only way out is through, when your direct experience is that letting go is indeed the pathway to greater bliss and yet, you can’t force your own surrender? Or even surrender into your own surrender?

I don’t know.

(This is where that Spiritual Pepto would come in REALLY handy.)

So far, I’m doing a lot of breathing, and trying to sit still in the discomfort, making every effort not to fill what feels like the Universe’s painful silence with my own noise.

And I’ve decided that, while I can’t imagine letting this go forever, perhaps I can give myself a vacation. Maybe a measured break from thinking about it or trying to attain it will give me some distance, some perspective, some objectivity – a way of looking at this that will reveal the pathway through to the other side.

It’s a “one day at a time” proposition – because, through it all, there is a really amazing, beautiful life to lead, work to do, laughter to share, joy to spread, wisdom to uncover, discover, and recover, other, smaller actions to take…

And “one day at a time,” that is enough.

“Some of our loves and attachments are elemental and beyond our choosing, and for that very reason they come spiced with pain and regret and need and hollowness and a feeling as close to anger as I will ever be able to imagine.” ~ Colm Tóibín

“I do not at all understand the mystery of grace – only that it meets us where we are but does not leave us where it found us.” ~ Anne Lamott

We all have moments in our lives when we feel we are outside the Flow of Life, when it seems that we are disconnected from whatever our version of the Big Picture is.

Relationships end or never begin, jobs fall through, projects fail, things Just. Don’t. Work.

We’ve all been there; it seems as if it’s part of the human condition, and it’s easy to believe at these times that we are out of Grace.

Grace is frequently defined as “divine love and protection bestowed freely on people” or “a state of sanctification.” For me, it matters less where this sense of security, connection, and blessing come from, than the fact that we seem to universally, no matter what our belief system, identify when we feel in or out of it.

But I think our feelings are wrong.

A four year old who is afraid of the water may think that Mommy hates her, is angry with her, or doesn’t care about her when she makes her go to swimming lessons. Based on what this little one knows of the world and the filter of fear she is looking through, this might seem like a reasonable conclusion.

But Mommy is looking at the bigger picture – she knows it’s in her little one’s best interest to move beyond her fear, not only so that she is safe in the water, but also because conquering her fear will shape how she approaches future challenges.

I believe that we are never out of Grace; we simply perceive that we are.

We can’t see the bigger picture; we can’t know what future depends on us gaining knowledge and experience today. All we can do is try to stay present, act out of love rather than fear, and learn the lessons that present themselves.

I may have my head in the clouds, but my feet have always been firmly on the ground, so I’m willing to admit that there is a 50/50 chance that all of this is smoke and mirrors and pretty, pretty pictures. This was of looking at life may very well be a balm or a crutch, but it’s still a question of perception.

We can choose to believe that we are given opportunities to learn and grow and become more than we thought possible, or we can believe that “life sucks and then you die.” It’s a choice…

They say that optimists and pessimists are both right about the same amount of the time; optimists just have more fun.

Which lens will you choose?

“If grace is so wonderful, why do we have such difficulty recognizing and accepting it? Maybe it’s because grace is not gentle or made-to-order. It often comes disguised as loss, or failure, or unwelcome change.” ~ Kathleen Norris

“Inaction, contrary for its reputation as being a refuge, is neither safe nor comfortable” ~ Madeline Kuhn

I have been known at times to divide the entire human race up into Pepto and Non-Pepto people…

When I was a kid, Pepto-Bismol was a family staple.  I was shocked then, as I moved out into the larger world, to discover that some people refuse to down even a teaspoon of its chalky pink goodness.

“No way, “ they say, “It’ll make me throw up.”

And, to this day, I look at them confused, because, in my experience, that’s kinda the point.  Pepto-Bismol either makes you feel better or it makes you barf and THEN you feel better, but at least you’re no longer lying around on the bathroom floor, clutching your stomach, and wishing to die.

ACTION is where it’s AT!

But what do you do when you have spiritual/ emotional indigestion?

There are times when our unhappiness is caused by our refusal to take action on our own behalf…. but at others there is no obvious action to be taken.

What then?

(I can hear my Buddhist friends reminding me that the real cause of our unhappiness is attachment to specific outcomes – and yes, I acknowledge that this is true, but non attachment is the work of a life time, and, sometimes, the thick of a good ol’ fashion soul flu is the least likely place to begin practicing.)

So what do we do when we are clear that action must be taken, choices must be made, change must occur, but we aren’t in a position to act?

One of my favorite authors of all time, Anne Lamott, frequently writes about her own struggles with exactly this issue.

“I have a lot of faith. But I am also afraid a lot, and have no real certainty about anything. I remembered something Father Tom had told me–that the opposite of faith is not doubt, but certainty. Certainty is missing the point entirely. Faith includes noticing the mess, the emptiness and discomfort, and letting it be there until some light returns.” (Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith)

Ultimately, there is always a shift, a dawning of enlightenment, that comes which allows us to see the moment in a new way or from a different angle, but until that time comes, the most we can do is nurture ourselves as best we can – eat well, put ourselves to bed, exercise, be gentle with and forgive ourselves.

Because as much as we might wish for movement of any kind, it is ultimately in our best interest to stay exactly where we are – on the metaphoric bathroom floor – until we have clarity or at least a real impulse to move.

There is no spiritual Pepto that will hurry these moments of divine distress.  What we can do is sit in our stuff, be with it, learn from it, and, to paraphrase my friend Anne in her book Traveling Mercies, wait for the next right circle of light to appear.

“Sitting quietly, doing nothing, spring comes, and the grass grows by itself” ~ Zen Proverb

“The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium.” ~ Norbet Platt

So… I got off track in my blogging last week.

All my energy was caught up in being Juliet, and then in our Groupon Deal… and I just didn’t seem to have ANY creative vibes left.  There were several nights I came home, stared at the computer screen for half an hour, and then turned it off in favor of gaping at reruns of Criminal Minds or House and drooling like a semi-finalist at the inbreeding contest.

It wasn’t pretty.

But the funny thing is how much I missed this “coming to the page” time.

Writing these little snippets feels a lot like sending messages in bottles – I never really know if what I write sinks unread or if they land on distant shores to be taken up and perused to who-knows-what effect.  I guess I just hope they end up where they are meant to be…

It really is a total surrender.  I write what needs to be written that day, and let it go at that.

Which in and of itself is a huge non-control-freak think for me… and the fact that it’s so comfy to do so is an insight of its own.

But, as it turns out, there are other benefits I couldn’t have predicted to having committed to showing up here on a regular basis.  I’m motivated to stay more present to the moment and to see things from a larger perspective.  I have a reason to sift through the events of my day for the message, or the lesson, or the ah-ha moment that wants to be shared.  I get to tell my truth about the work we do here in a way that is not simply business-like and clinical, but personal and experiential.  I get to speak for the humanity in myself and that I see in other people.

And in doing so, I have created greater meaning for myself.

“It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by.  How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment?  For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone.  That is where the writer scores over his fellows:  he catches the changes of his mind on the hop.” ~Vita Sackville-West

“Over the centuries we have transformed the ancient myths and folk tales and made them into the fabric of our lives. Consciously and unconsciously we weave the narratives of myth and folk tale into our daily existence.” ~ Jack Zipes

Every culture has its mythology, a strong underlying story that shapes the identity, at some level, of every one of its citizens.

In the United States, we pride ourselves on being cowboys. Even when the rest of the world sneers and uses the term as a derogatory statement of our recklessness, there is always a part of us that is proud the bear the name.

We identify with being wily, rugged individualists – survivors, who are not afraid to take “God’s Law” into our own hands when the laws of man fail.

I see the effects of this mythology every day on the table… strained necks, aching shoulders, sore backs, congested heart and throat chakras.

“Strong, silent type, “ I say to both men and women alike, and I can feel their smiles. Without seeing their faces, I know that they are pleased to be recognized.

The white-hatted cowboy, the American hero, rides into town by himself one day and finds himself in the middle of wrongdoing. With very few words, he sets about righting the injustice, not because it affects him – he could ride right back out of town again – but because there is something in him that hates corruption. In the end, disregarding physical risk and often great personal cost, he saves the day.

And when it is all over, brushing off the thanks and rewards of a grateful township, he rides off into the sunset with nothing more than the tip of his hat.

It’s a powerful story – and one that causes us great pain as individuals…. because it doesn’t take into account some higher certainties:

*Speaking our truth in the world is not a bad thing, even when it means admitting pain, or fear, or loneliness.

*Working with other people, trusting them to carry their own weight and to contribute to getting the job done is not a sign of weakness.

*Asking for and expecting an even exchange of energy from those we help or are in relationship with does not make us selfish.

*It takes as much, if not more, courage to allow ourselves to be vulnerable and interdependent in the face of crisis, as it does to maintain our “rugged individuality.”

Our family, community, and national mythologies, in concert with our personal experiences, provide us with our individual identity, code of ethics, and rules of behavior, not to mention life long motivation. But they are only useful if we are conscious of the stories we are reenacting and the ramifications they have upon our mind, body, and soul.

At the end of the day, the sunset is beautiful- and there’s no doubt that we will all, eventually, ride off into it by ourselves – but, along the way, couldn’t we be more honest about our feelings, braver about asking for and accepting help, softer with our hearts?

“Let’s face it. In most of life we really are interdependent. We need each other. Staunch independence is an illusion, but heavy dependence isn’t healthy, either. The only position of long-term strength is interdependence: win/win.” ~ Greg Anderson

“Interdependence is and ought to be as much the ideal of man as self-sufficiency. Man is a social being.” ~ Mahatma Gandhi