A Lifetime of Letting Go

Thanks to Rachel Hill for the wonderful inspiration!

As an adult, I came across the book “Material World: A Global Family Portrait”, and was fascinated by it. It’s a photographic journey across the world in which families from different countries put everything they own outside in front of their house. I was amazed by the amounts, large and small, of what people kept in their homes, and which objects were important to them.

I’ve never been much of a collector of things. When I was growing up, my stepmother had a lot of tchotchkes in the home. Each room had a “theme” of collectibles: the kitchen filled with lady bug designs, the Japanese-styled dining and formal room, and the nautical living room. All of the knickknacks creating these themes had to be dusted and otherwise cared for. Heaven help you if you broke them. 

When I left home, I decided I would love people and use things, rather than the other way around. While at the time I was still caught in the mainstream of wanting stylish things at home, I still don’t remember collecting much. As I got older, when living alone I usually kept few belongings, and in the times when I was married, left with even fewer belongings when I got divorced. In my early 30’s, someone once remarked about my place: “It looks like she’s on the lam, ready to move at a moment’s notice”.” Letting go of things was the easy(er) part.

But the real jumpstart to letting go occurred in my 40’s. Not just to letting go of objects, but of an entire lifestyle. I was married, working in an ER as a Physician Assistant, and had begun practicing Buddhism (a long story in itself). After a year or so of practice, a teacher had recommended I volunteer in Hospice. I did, and it changed my life’s course. Working with Hospice patients encouraged me to start asking myself the question I had been avoiding: What would I do if I only had 6 months to live? I realized I would want to live quite differently than how I was living at the time. 

I ended up walking away from the marriage and the job, moving to the Pacific Northwest, and eventually, ordaining in the Zen tradition. Mid-life crisis? Perhaps. But the move was a major step in the right direction, even if it required some tweaking with time. 

I later left the Zen tradition upon becoming more familiar with the Theravadan school of Buddhism, and became a “householder” once again; renting a smaller home. Soon afterwards, life called for further changes, and I later prepared for a move across the country to be closer to my mom and stepfather. So I downsized again. I sold my furniture at bargain prices, and gave away whatever else that would cost more to ship than to replace. After a while, I began to wonder if my friends were tired of hearing, “Hey, would you like this…..”.

When I got to the east coast, I went through my things and still found things I could have lived without. I had moved in with my folks who already had plenty of things in their house, thank you. No need for kitchen gadgets and not much closet or bookshelf space, either. I eventually got my own apartment for a while, and within months moved to a furnished condo. Once again, I sold all my furniture: the bed, bookcase, table and chairs that I had just acquired. 

During this time I was working in an inner city emergency room (again!), and after 13 years of working in the American healthcare system, was completely stressed and burnt out. I suppose I had to relearn the lesson I had received years before when I had moved to the Pacific Northwest. Such is the power of delusion. Something had to give. While I loved the challenges of working in the ER, it was highly stressful, and not a healthy environment for me to be in. Since my mom was doing well health-wise, and the ER job was temporary, I had planned to do some extended travel at the end of my contract.

So I left the job, left the condo, and stuffed nearly all of my belongings into a Honda Fit (oddly enough, they did), and dropped them off at my parents’ place to live out of a suitcase for an extended period of travel. During that time, I never missed any of the things I had left behind. Traveling with a backpack carry-on meant that I rarely picked up anything else during my travels, either. 

As my travel funds dwindled and it came time to go back to work, I made the giant step into letting go of a lifestyle (again). I realized the interest just wasn’t there to return to the rat race of working, even if it meant losing a healthy salary. So instead of returning to work, I took the first withdrawal from my long-term savings fund in order to stay at monasteries and continue the spiritual practice. It was with no small amount of trepidation that I took that first yearly disbursement, but I still knew deep down that it was the right thing to do.

I am extremely fortunate that I’ve had the opportunity to do this. I have enjoyed opportunities that many have not, and I’m increasingly aware of this. Thanks to those opportunities and an aversion to debt, I had saved enough money for a simple lifestyle until my retirement kicks in. Staying at monasteries meant that I also benefited from the goodwill of others, as the monasteries in our tradition are entirely run on donations. I am more thankful than I can put into words for these opportunities. 

I’ve since moved back in with my folks to help them out as they face medical and aging challenges. Helping them out is the right choice for me, and letting go thus far has made the choice much easier. I also continually reevaluate this practice of letting go. It’s not just stuff: sometimes it’s letting go of views, activities and habits that are no longer useful. One of the hardest to let go of has been the self view of “me as a medical practitioner”. There’s been a part of me that worries about being seen as “some lazy bum without a job”. Yet even this is fading away.

As I stay here for the foreseeable future, I know that at some point in time I will move back to the Pacific Northwest, which means another cross country trip. It really helps to keep any purchases to a minimum when I know I’ll just have to give things away or schlep them across the country.  Sadly my ‘year of buying nothing’ petered out after about six months, but I’m still working on non-accumulation. I think I could fit everything I own into my car at this point, but I will still probably end up doing another pre-travel shed when the time comes. 

So here I am, in my mid 50’s, without my own home, with few possessions, and no “real job”. By worldly standards, I could be considered a loser. Yet what I’ve lost is a great deal of stress, and time spent working to accumulate more stuff. I’m OK with that. I’ve gained the time to help my folks, and to work on the spiritual practice.

This lifestyle is not for everyone. I sometimes feel like a monastic without a monastery – a truly “homeless one”, as junior monastics are called. As my friends are buying houses of their own and earning incomes (or not, in these times of Covid), sometimes I think about what it would be like to have a cabin of my own in the woods somewhere. It might still happen. But for now, this process of letting go brings a freedom that is peaceful. I’m still on the journey…

Join Me

Like many, I was horrified to watch the recent murder of George Floyd.

I have always felt that my path to promote peace in the world is to promote peace in oneself. I cannot rid the world of all injustice. And yet…

Silence can be construed as consent, and I do not consent to a world in which people are systemically oppressed, beaten, and killed simply for the color of their skin.

I realize that these things have been going on for some time. ‘Enough is enough’ happened a long time ago. I have been raised in white privilege and have missed a great deal. I know that there’s a lot I don’t know.

So for starters, I just donated to, and became a member of Color Of Change, a Black-led racial justice organization fighting campaigns for political, corporate and media accountability and change in our country.

Sign up with me here

They’ll send you actions you can take to support Black people and allies, invite you to events in your city, and it’s free to join.

I am sure there are some who will find fault with something I say or don’t say in this post. But I will no longer allow fear of saying the wrong thing to keep me from speaking out. I do not wish to consent to violence by silence.

Only that which will bring you honor

Some years ago, I knew someone who was fairly popular in a group I associated with. Being “in” with this person meant being in with the surrounding group. For purposes of ease and anonymity, I’ll call this person “They”. They were genial and charismatic, and appeared friendly to many, including myself. They were patient and intent on their spiritual journey. They had the ear of the leaders of the group and knew a great deal about what went on. They were the “one to know”.

It seems hardwired into our DNA to want to feel included in a group. To be included is to feel safe, to have access to opportunities that being alone doesn’t offer. Childhood conditioning says that being in with the cool kids is the place to be. It’s a hard feeling to outgrow, even when one is far into adulthood.

I spent some time with this group, and slowly realized that being in the “in” crowd meant hearing a lot of gossip. At first, it was gratifying. It felt good to be an “us” vs “other”. They don’t call it “juicy” gossip for no reason. There’s a satisfaction that often comes with gossip. I’m not saying it’s a skillful satisfaction by any means, but it’s an easy road to go down.

In time though, I noticed how these gossip sessions felt, and I found that the energy was not that which I enjoyed. I would walk away feeling aversion, creating stories in my mind about the people discussed. There was a sense of how “I” was better (yikes!). There was also a sinking feeling in my gut that told me that I wasn’t following my own values.

I also had other more skillful groups to compare this one to. Groups which I never heard speaking ill of others, and accordingly, how much better it felt to be around the more skillful groups. Slowly I came to a realization: I’d rather not be included in a group that regularly engaged in gossip. The “cool kids”… no longer seemed all that cool.

The more I saw how gossip had tainted the behavior of this group, the less I wanted to be a part of it, even though all of them had many other good qualities. These were people that I had learned from and even admired. I still look upon the members of this group as whole people who engage in skillful and unskillful behavior, just as I do. We’re all trying to find happiness, and usually we all go about finding it in a misguided or deluded way. This is only part of their behavior, and perhaps only my perception. I wish them all well. And if I only associate with perfect practitioners, it would be quite a lonely practice. I couldn’t even associate with myself. Yet at least at this time, I feel it’s better to avoid placing myself in company of those with which unskillful behavior is likely to follow.

There’s a saying, “If you spot it, you got it”, meaning that the things we find annoying in others are often the things we like (and see) least in ourselves. I know I’ve said things in the past that have not been skillful, and knowing how it has the potential to be painful to me (let alone the other person), makes me hope not to engage in such behavior in the future.

Sometimes there’s also a fine line with mixed intentions. I may relate an event or series of events to a friend to get their opinion. Yet I can’t say that there isn’t at least a small part of me that is hungry for that friend to help me build up my “he said, she said” story. But genuine guidance and reflection from a spiritual friend is always welcome in the long run, and sometimes that means relating details about others that may be negative. Where’s the middle way?

Even this blog post could be an example. My intention is not to point a finger or identify anyone. My intention is to reveal the difficulties I have faced with gossip in order to share with others that difficulty and also to offer reflections on what I have found helpful.

The Buddha offered guidance on things to consider before admonishing someone, which certainly would hold true for relating information to someone else:

“It is spoken at the right time. It is spoken in truth. It is spoken affectionately. It is spoken beneficially. It is spoken with a mind of good will.” (AN 5.158, Thanissaro Bhikkhu’s translation)

Guru Nanak said “Speak only that which will bring you honor”.

Perhaps the key is to remember to check in with the heart and with one’s intentions before one opens one’s mouth. Perhaps easier said than done, but as the saying goes, that’s why they call it a practice.

Be well and peaceful, dear readers. If you’ve found ways of keeping your speech skillful, please feel free to share in the comments.

 

 

 

 

The Truth of Harry Potter

I’ve spent the last week down with the flu. It was all that you’d expect from the flu: coughing, aching, fever, nausea, vomiting, etc., etc.. Since I live with my parents who are elderly with medical issues, I spent much of my time holed away in my room avoiding contact that could make anyone else sick.

I’d like to say that I spent all of that time in copious meditation and death contemplation, but I can’t. I did some, but I also spent a lot of it watching movies on my computer.

Like the entire Harry Potter series.

As my mind cleared, however, I realized there are a few points that could be considered Dharma or Dhamma in the Harry Potter films, or just food for thought if one isn’t Buddhist.

Let’s pick the first movie. Spoiler alert for that one person left on the planet that hasn’t seen them yet and wants to. At the beginning of the movie, Harry and his friends become convinced that Professor Snape is the villain who wants to steal the philosopher’s stone. Each action taken convinces them of this perception more and more, despite the assurances by other professors that this is not the case. Harry’s broomstick is cursed? Snape is seen chanting incantations, so clearly it must be him. Snape get’s a gash on his leg? Further evidence. Each piece of the puzzle is put in place akilter because the trio has already decided on what the truth is. Any further evidence is seen in the light of what they perceive. No one can tell them otherwise until they discover the truth for themselves at the end of the movie.

The viewer is brought along with them by emotion and our own perceptions. We become convinced of the “rightness” of the characters and along with them, conceive what is “true” through our own glasses of perception. At the end of the movie, the characters discover that Professor Snape was protecting the stone and them, all along. The glasses are taken off and we see the truth.

Sure, it’s a kid’s movie that may be beating us over the head with what seems to be obvious, but how often do we do this in real life? Nearly anything we perceive has the potential to be grossly wrong. Yet we color what we see through delusion-colored glasses, often putting two and two together to make five. We hold onto that perception so tightly that we can’t let go. Until we find out for ourselves that it was all wrong (if we’re lucky).

How many things which we take for certain….aren’t?

Everything.

Professor Snape gets a bad wrap throughout all the movies, and characters and viewers alike consider him to be a persona non grata of sorts. Granted, he’s not exactly a warm, fuzzy, likable character, so it’s easy to do. But in the last movie, we see a clearer picture of Snape than we did before. We see his propensity towards the darker arts, yet we also see his love for Lilly and some of the trials he suffered at the hands of those we’ve thought of as heroes. We see how even though he joined Voldemort’s side early on,  he made the decision to become a guardian to Harry and to help Dumbledore in the fight against Voldemort. We see a more complete picture of him than just the simple “truth” that we assumed from the beginning of the movies.

“There are three sides to every story: your side, my side, and the truth. And no one is lying.” Robert Evans

So it is with all of us. We all have multiple layers of perception, of truth, of skillful and unskilful behavior. We know this intellectually, but I found in Harry Potter a reminder. That how we think of a person is shaped by our own perceptions of “truth”.  It’s easy to conceive an entire picture of someone based on our own perceptions of them, either good or bad, but how much of it is truth? Can we really know?

Be well and peaceful.

 

 

 

Yeh Mera Pahale Baar Yahaan Pe Nahiin Hai, Or, This Is Not My First Time Here

I was recently encouraged to write an entry on some scams I’ve encountered in my travels in India. Having been there several times now, I’ve met with a few.

First of all, I don’t want to portray a negative image of India. While it has it’s problems, it has great people, beauty, history, and culture. If I didn’t love it so much, I would have stopped going after my first time there. I’ve been back twice, and it keeps drawing me back.

 I would like to point out that I have met multitudes of genuine, friendly, honest, and caring people in India. Many of them have taken this lone traveler under their wing, fed me, looked after me, and sometimes even invited me into their home. Like anywhere else, one encounters both honest and not-so-honest actions. But India does have a reputation for it’s share of touts, or people out to make a buck off of unsuspecting tourists.

Also bear in mind that even the poorest traveler to India has access to much more money than most of the people trying to get them to part with it. Scads. And many of these scams amount to the sum of only a few dollars. Yes, it’s a pain in the assets. When visiting for longer periods of time, it does get old sometimes, and makes one wary that everyone is out to make money from them. It also discourages many tourists from returning, which in the long run won’t be helpful for vendors. But one has to ask themselves if it’s really worth getting upset over. There are no easy answers. Caution, a big-picture view, patience, compassion, and a sense of humor go a long way.

So that being said, here is a short list of scams I’ve seen, and some I’ve even fallen for:

“Shoe! Shoe” – On my first trip to India I saw a woman in Delhi who was wearing a pair of sandals that appeared ready to disintegrate. She said she didn’t want money. Just a new pair of shoes. She then led me to a shop and pointed out a pair of shoes that cost 500 rupees, or $8 USD (twice the price as what they usually cost). I fell for it, and bought her the pair of shoes. Later I saw her walking around begging with the same raggedy shoes, and was told that she most likely split the proceeds with the vendor (who kept the shoes to sell again).

Taken for a ride – Quite a common thing is to be told by a rickshaw wallah that they will take you to a major attraction for a nice low price. And they will, eventually. On the way, they’ll take you to a rug shop, a carving shop, a sari shop, a jewelry shop…basically  the shops of all their friends, where they’ll earn a percentage of anything you buy. Even if you tell them you are not interested, they’ll say “Just to look”. Walk away and find another driver.

This also happens with hotels. The drivers will tell you that your hotel is full or was just closed down due to a fire, bankruptcy, bubonic plague, or whatever. Or they’ll pretend they can’t find your hotel. They will try to take you to a “much better hotel” run by their uncle. Don’t do it. They’ll overcharge you and get the profits.

“The meter is broken” – Another rickshaw or taxi driver trick. You’re much better off using the meter, but I’ve rarely seen them used outside of southern India or in Kolkata for people who live there and know better. Usually drivers prefer to give you an inflated price, and sometimes even raise it while you’re riding along. If you’ve just arrived at an airport or train station in India, find the prepaid taxi stand. It’s your best bet. Or learn to either bargain aggressively or be overcharged.

“Change for the worse” – Torn currency is not accepted by most vendors, but if there’s an unsuspecting tourist, they will often unload it on them as change. Be alert.

“There’s no such thing as a free blessing” – If someone wearing orange or in costume (one guy in Rishikesh dresses up as Hanuman) comes up to you and wants to bless you, most likely he or she will want a monetary blessing in return, and tourists are expected to pay much more.

The great jewelry scam – in Rajasthan and other places, I hear it is common to get tourists to buy jewelry to take back to their country, in order to sell it back to “associates”  of the vendor. Sadly, the associates don’t exist, and the unsuspecting tourist has just bought a bunch of fake jewelry that they’re now stuck with.

“First time in India?” – If you hear this from a rickshaw/taxi driver or a store owner, guard your wallet. It’s a good indication you’re about to get scammed.

“Ek selfie, please” – Not a scam, at least for the most part. Usually the people who ask this consider it an honor, or at least a novelty, to have you in their pictures. Be prepared to be asked this on a regular basis. That being said, I have heard of young men asking women for selfies and then posting the pics on social media, stating that this was their “girlfriend”.

There are, I’m sure, many other scams. These are the one’s I’ve encountered, or in the case of the jewelry, heard about. If you are thinking of going to India, by all means, go. Just be aware. Many others have written about scams in India. One of my favorite sites for travelers is IndiaMike.com, which has a wealth of information.

So go. Travel responsibly, and remember not to sweat the small stuff.

And until next time, be well and peaceful.

Bye Bye Buy…sort of

I thought I’d do a reckoning of my no-buying for a year. I’m afraid I’ve slipped a bit, but I am continuing my efforts to stick with it.

My purchase list so far:

Painting supplies – a tube of watercolor paint, a sketchbook, a masking pen (which din’t work), and a calligraphy pen as a replacement for the masking pen (which worked marginally better). As I am looking into selling my art professionally, I don’t feel too bad about the purchases in this category, but I did neglect to include art supplies as an exception. So there it is.

A Hindi-English Dictionary. I know some Hindi, and it is my dream to someday become fluent in it, along with some other languages in that tree. I could have bought it as a digital version, but for reference, sometimes an actual paper book is much more useful.

A skillet. Sort of an impulse buy. We have some old cast aluminum cookware at home, but cooking eggs on it is a sticky mess. That being said, I could have avoided this purchase and worked with what was in the kitchen already.

A picture frame. Totally could have bought this used, but I wanted to put a picture of some nuns on my altar, and felt the picture deserved a new frame. Would they care? Probably not.

And I blew out both knees of my only pair of jeans, so I replaced them (the pair of jeans, not the knees).

Not a long list, and all of the purchases had some reasoning behind them. But my goal is to not buy anything outside of the previously mentioned exceptions for a year. So I will continue to keep at it.

I’m not beating myself up over what I’ve bought. My goal in doing this is to make it a learning process. When I notice the urge to buy something, where does the need truly exist? Does it exist? What rationale does the mind use to justify breaking my vow? Can I look into that and see it for what it is?

I’ve read of using a “Thirty Day List” in the book “Your Money or Your Life”. Pretty self-explanatory: if you want to buy something, you put it on a list. You wait 30 days. If you still want to buy it, go for it. In using this practice, I’ve usually found that I didn’t really need the item (and never did), and the desire for the object wanes or evaporates, vs the feeling of “I have to have this NOW” that I may feel at the moments before an impulse purchase.

So my goal in this project is sort of a “365 Day List”. A learning curve to watch impulse purchases, and also to save on limited funds. Some might say I’ve failed already, but my goal in this is the process, not an absolute. So I will continue to work on not buying, and watch the “I want” mind.

PS. Speaking of buying, a friend suggested I should write an entry on scams I’ve encountered in my travels, so I promise, that’s coming next!

Be well and peaceful

It’s not you. It’s not them. It just is (or isn’t).

OK, so I’ve decided to keep the blog rolling for now.

I have heard from so many friends lately that are in challenging relationships, or are in the aftermath of failed relationships, that I wanted to share some words of, well, maybe “not-wisdom”. Maybe experience.

I hate to say it, but I’ve been in a lot of failed relationships. If you’re looking for how to get into a good relationship and stay there, find another blog. This is NOT the blog you were looking for.

But if you’re interested in what I’ve learned, or are looking for some commiseration, keep reading. I am by no means claiming to be an expert. Some of this is more intellectual knowledge than internalized, but we’re all getting there in our own time. Some of this is from Buddhist practice, some is from a book I’ve recently read called “Radical Acceptance” by Tara Brach, some from friends, and some is just from past experience. Much of it overlaps. You may be aware of these things already, but in my own experience, I find commonality with others to be helpful.

First and foremost: There is nothing wrong with you. The end of this relationship (or the relationship in general) has no bearing on your worth as a human being. It’s just the nature of human relationships. Repeat as needed.

Maybe you keep thinking of the good times you had together and minimizing the bad, and wondering what went wrong. Or maybe you’re thinking only of the bad, and wondering “What the h$$$ was I thinking?” Sometimes you think of both. That’s OK.

If they broke things off, you may be wondering why. You may never hear their answer of “why” and even if they tell you, it probably won’t make sense. If you ended the relationship, you might feel guilt even though you know deep down that it was the right choice. All of these things are OK.

You and this other person came together for a period of time, you learned from them and they learned from you. Maybe there were good things that happened between you. Maybe a lot of good things. Or maybe a lot of bad things. Maybe both. Yet for some reason or another, that run came to an end, as all things do eventually. Even the truest love birds are parted by death. The fact that you and this person are not together anymore has nothing to do with your worth as a human being. Like two puzzle pieces, you simply did not fit. Or you did for a while, but now your shapes have changed, and the match is gone. You learned what you needed to learn from this person and this particular lesson is over.

You may have feelings of loss, loneliness, and perhaps even a feeling of worthlessness.

Accept them. Meet them with friendliness. Telling yourself that you shouldn’t have these feelings will only feed them and make a stronger narrative around them.

As you come to see and accept the feelings there without creating that narrative, eventually, they get tired and go away. Honest. This will take a while, and will be a struggle to say the least. Be patient. Give yourself time and don’t be in a rush for acceptance. In the meantime, be gentle with yourself.

Imagine that all of your friends and loved ones are standing around you in a circle, cheering you on. Hopefully you have family and friends nearby that can do this in person, but if not, use your imagination. Try to talk to yourself as they would talk to you; not beating yourself up.

Eventually we find that there is so much more in life than these transient feelings. And the transient relationship.

And know, dear reader, that I’m cheering for you too.

Spring has sprung

It’s been a while since my last post. It’s not that life has been boring by any means, but I haven’t had any news that I wanted to share. I’ve faced a few curveballs in early spring that knocked me down for a bit, but am back on my feet. And wheels. Now that the temperatures are rising, I’ve been taking time for myself outdoors as well as inside, and have been walking and riding the trails nearby.

To be honest, I almost scrapped the blog. I’ve become even more aware that there’s a huge potential for making a “self” out of blogging; a story line that one can buy into and build upon. Sort of like certain social media venues. I’m still debating whether or not to continue, or in what way. But for now, perhaps I’ll just try to brighten your day with a little local color.

Enjoy the photos, and feel free to share your feelings about keeping a blog.

Be well and peaceful.

Bye bye buy

I’ve decided to make 2019 a year of buying nothing. “What!?” You say? “How will you live?”

OK, I’ll explain. If you search for “Year of Buying Nothing” online, you’ll see that I’m not the first person to do this. Many have done this – and succeeded, before me. Everyone has their own parameters of what is excluded. Food, medicine, and shelter are the usual items. Deciding further than that depends on your situation. Your mileage may vary.  But the idea is to get off the consumer treadmill and evaluate when your purchases truly add value to your life, or whether they’re a distraction to mask some deeper desire that things will never fulfill (Hint: it’s often the latter).

Spend a few minutes in any thrift store and you will see thousands of items that once were brand new. They were sitting on a shelf, and someone walked by and saw them, exclaiming to some degree, “This X is perfect! How did I ever live without this?”. Then that person spent their money, took the item home, and was quite happy with it. For a while. And with time, the item lost its appeal, and gathered dust. Until one day, the person saw it and said (more or less) “Why did I ever buy this? I don’t need it, and I don’t want it.” And then it ends up in the thrift store with all the other items.

I’m not advocating having an empty home, and there are those whose income is limited to the point that this will be a given. But for those of us who have the inclination and ability to do this, I think it’s worthwhile.

So here are the exclusions I’ve set for myself:

1. Food, medicines, and consumables one would get at the grocery store, such as shampoo, etc..
2. Non-physical Experiences – I don’t eat at restaurants very often, but will continue buying meals (and coffee) out on occasion. Same with travel expenses or park fees. Anything that doesn’t take up space in one’s home.
3. Electronic media – I may revisit this if I see that I’m spending too much here, but again, doesn’t take up space (other than computer memory).
4. Gifts – My goal is not to inflict my simplicity path on anyone else, and I’ve already done a lot of downsizing in this category. I may investigate giving experiences as gifts at some point.
5. Replacements: If something I own currently becomes beyond repair, I will allow myself to replace it, but only if it’s essential.

These are the allowances I’m giving myself. My goal is to limit how much I spend on things, and to look at why I bring them into my life.

I’ve always had a minimalist nature, and since I stopped working, my income has been limited. Not unbearably so, but enough to suggest that I could benefit from putting the brakes on extra spending. I’m also looking forward to watching the mind when it can’t get what it wants, and discovering why it wants what it does (if there’s any rhyme or reason to it).

I am sending out an invitation: If you’re up for joining me in this process, please add your comments at the bottom. Decide your own parameters, and see how they work for you. Don’t think you can do it for a year? Try a month for starters and see how it goes. I’m looking forward to sharing the journey…

End of Story

Over two years ago, I met someone with whom I developed a strong and strange friendship. It was never a romantic thing, and probably had some resonance from past experience. I had spent a fair bit of time with this person, and did my best to do what I could to help him in a time of need. Last year our time together came to an end with arguments and hurt feelings, along with a feeling of betrayal and unanswered questions.

I spent a lot of time afterwards wondering what happened, why, what if, etc., etc.. I wanted answers, and thought that if I had them, I’d feel better. Too much time spent in the story of what happened drew me down a dark path that took a while to reverse. It wasn’t until I dropped the story line and the unanswered questions, and simply recognized and accepted the feelings and held them in awareness, that the wounds healed in time. The story line eventually dropped, and I moved on. All things that are of the nature to arise are of the nature to cease.

I also had the opportunity to reconnect with other healthier relationships and to be reminded of how they feel as well. I’ve been in a much more peaceful mental space for a while now.

From this stable ground I recently encountered this person again. In the interest of reconciliation, I thought it might be a chance to exchange perceptions of what happened, and to be honest, hoped to receive some sort of an apology.

Neither were provided.

The same dynamics that plagued the friendship in the past have continued, and I’m not terribly surprised. The pleasant surprise is that my involvement in the answers (and the person) is not there anymore. I no longer feel the need to know what happened. The clinging to “why” isn’t present, and neither my happiness nor peace are dependent upon the answers.

Sharing perceptions of what happened for both of us would have been a step towards true reconciliation, and it’s a bit sad that this will not take place. There is a shallow détente now, but nothing more. I wish him well and will continue to be kind, but the true friendship and trust are no longer there.

Instead I’ve reconciled myself, and I’ve moved on to a healthier place. As memories or emotions appear, I’m continuing the same process that my teachers have given me: feeling the feelings in the body, accepting them, and riding the wave with awareness as the feeling passes.

The answers to what happened last year will most likely never transpire. I’m no longer counting on them. The reconciliation has happened with the feelings involved, even if it hasn’t been with the relationship in which they arose. The story line continues to fall away, and my own sense of peace has emerged from the rubble.

That’s all the answer I need.