A Bonfire of Attachments

The average day, and most days are average 😄, can be described as a series of interactions with people. (And objects, but generally these aren’t sentient or stupid). It’s a given that some of these interactions will be difficult. Strife, every day, is inevitable:

When you wake up in the morning, tell yourself: The people I deal with today will be meddling, ungrateful, arrogant, dishonest, jealous, and surly.
Marcus Aurelius, Meditations II.1

Parenting throws these interactions into stark relief due to their:

1. frequency (like, times per minute)
2. unpredictable outcomes(!)
3. asymmetry (of power, knowledge, etc. etc.)

So not only do I have many more interactions on average, I am forced, by the self’s compulsion to search for meaning in everything1, to analyze them in excruciating detail.

What have I learned from all this navel-gazing?

detachment…

I misunderstood this concept for years. I was “aloof”—on the same plane as others, but (inwardly) superior. Or inferior. Never equal. Detachment, as I have learned through meditation, is to be on a different plane, but always equal. To free oneself from the influence of others and the need to influence them—to throw all that necessity on the bonfire. The difference? Aloofness defines itself by others; detachment frees itself from others. It is not rejection, it’s a resetting, which makes healthy relating possible (again).

…and its evil twin, attachment

Surely, being attached, bonded, is a good thing—deep friendships save us from ourselves, and bring lasting satisfaction. Investing in relationships is one of the most important things we can do, whether deeply or superficially. But not if I lose my autonomy.
If I am attached to someone behaving a certain way and the actual behavior is contrary, the attachment causes all sorts of unpleasantness: offense, rejection, pride, or the mildest-sounding killer, “disappointment”. The autonomous person, while (best case) caring deeply for the person, is not phased by “non-compliant” behavior. Do you believe your interlocutor knows or cares what you think? Maybe they don’t give a shit and are just being nice because they know you get upset and/or you have asymmetrical power (yes, you’re the commanding officer, and they think you’re stupid)2. Or do people always do what you want?

I’m a beginner in these things, but when I engage in specific preemptive detachment (mindfulness, focused breathing, letting go, meditation, contemplation, whatever…the practice is more important the name), life is a whole lot easier (at least until the next blow-up and that’s gonna happen). The playing field has been leveled for a time and all are my equals; and with the kids, that terrible asymmetry vanishes like mist in the morning sunshine. We breathe the same air.

Where it gets really fun is turning the detachment-cannon on yourself: I have so many attachments, I’m like a freaked-out marionette stumbling through a string factory. In the posture of calm and humble detachment, it’s ridiculously easy to pick ‘em off. A few:

• I want to be on time, always, to everything
• I want to please everyone, which is easy because I’m so great.
• I really want to do something which is impossible to do just in that moment, and it’s everyone else’s fault.
• I should command respect and affirmation, from everyone, always. Just because.
• My authority is absolute and requires instant obedience
• It’s ok to ridicule this or that person in particular because they are ridiculous in my eyes, and my judgment is infallible.
• Ad infinitum

What is clear is that such attachments keep me on the wrong side of friction and fiction, they head off my centered, present and good self at the pass and before I know it, I’m justifying my “marionetting” with some hearty moralizing. I’m on the bonfire instead of my crap!

And what does Marcus Aurelius write about that?

Not to write treatises on abstract questions, or to deliver moralizing little sermons…
Meditations I.7

People have been doing this for literally thousands of years? And I just thought I was taking after my dad!

The worst thing about attachments is that these stubborn little bastards will keep coming back just as often as you shake ‘em off.

So fight for your autonomy, daily, because no one else can do that for you, and they need you to be your best, especially when they don’t know or care.