The death of attachment
A little less needy, a lot more free.
I got home at 1pm today after a busy morning in Bali, running around to a few meetings and getting some errands done. As I approached home, a huge bolt of lightning struck ahead of me. My mind counted to three and sure enough the entire island felt as though it shook with a big thud of thunder. I walked in the door of *home, washed my hands and turned on the kettle to make a cup of tea. I really like tea. Regardless of how hot Bali may be, I still really like tea. At the moment, and well actually for a few years now, riaboos is my favourite. I made a big pot and sat down at my desk as the rain started. It poured. Oh, what timing.
I opened my laptop and a new Google Doc to begin writing an article for my website. I initially titled it, 10 wellness things I couldn't live without. My right picky pressed the return key twice and my cursor was perfectly positioned to begin. I paused and stared at it, laser focused, as it flashed at me. I thought for a few moments. My pinky reached right again, this time for the delete button. It held it down until the page was blank again, plus a little longer. Then it released, slowly.
…
I’ve had this feeling lately. It’s not that I’m trying to “correct” myself or be perfect. It’s more that the words I’m used to saying, the phrasing that’s been ingrained in my mind, doesn’t feel right anymore.
So many of those words and phrases don’t even exist in me now. They’re gone from my vocabulary and they’re gone from my mind. Sometimes, though, I find the ones that have only been erased rather than fully deleted. A faint line is still there. I’ve started erasing it, and my mind is determined to remove it completely until there’s no trace left. Like a primary school kid, 2B pencil in hand, rubbing out a spelling mistake until the page looks clean. I know we don’t use pencils much anymore, but you get it.
Maybe it makes more sense to say my mind has gone from a wild rainforest to a really well-manicured garden. There are only beautiful flowers and plants now. If you look closely, though, there are still small traces of that old rainforest. Deep roots that need a little more pulling to get them out completely.
Lighter. Brighter. More intentional. More flourishing. There’s more sunlight getting in, so the flowers are blossoming faster and more vibrant than ever. The weeds are gone and the paths are clearer.
It feels good. Really good.
…
I wanted to introduce the idea of attachment. I’ll talk about it a lot because it makes up a huge part of life and the quality of it. I believe that if you become aware of attachment, you can shift your mental state.
Attachment causes misery. It doesn’t matter if it’s to something positive or negative. You might say, “No but Hannah, I’m attached to my iced matcha latte made with organic homemade almond milk. It’s healthy. It’s better for me than coffee.”
It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter what it is. It doesn’t matter how healthy or “good” it is.
Because tomorrow, if you wake up and go to your local coffee shop and order your iced matcha with organic homemade almond milk and they turn around and tell you the world’s supply of matcha has been depleted, you’re going to be miserable.
The same concept applies to negative attachments like alcohol or cigarettes. I won’t explain that one. Pretty self-explanatory.
And so, I’m not here to tell you that you can’t have pleasure in consumption, that your rituals and patterns are toxic, or that you should stop drinking your iced matchas.
I only want you to be aware. If you’re aware of attachment, and if you learn to become less attached and more aware, your life will shift. I guarantee it. I bet you a year worth of matchas. Pinky promise.
So that’s my journal entry today. It wasn’t planned, but it’s what was on my mind. If it resonates with you, I’d love to know. Always open for a conversation.
May all be happy.
Love, Han.