Spirituality — September 12 Writing Prompt
Fear, Loss, and Detachment
What are you the most scared of losing?
I don’t post on the internet my deepest, darkest fears. And other than the idea of crawling around in a dark cave full of scorpions and spiders, I’m not sure I have many fears these days. Fortunately, that one is fairly easy to avoid!
So, I won’t answer the question, “What are you the most scared of losing, and what would you truly lose if you lost it?” My family is under strict orders to outlive me, though the pain of “losing” loved ones is also a testament to how well we love and are loved. We will “lose” each other one of these days.
But I will say this: The older I get, the more conscious I become of the fact that none of us will live forever. We leave this world as alone and empty-handed as we come into it. We will “lose” everything, eventually.
The Buddhist concept of “detachment” once sounded cold and unfeeling — how could one “detach” from people and things if they loved them? Detachment, now, makes perfect sense. It has to do with enjoying the here and now, exactly as it is, without attaching expectations to it.
We talk about parents “letting go,” and this is exactly what’s meant: Once we trust that we have done our jobs well and that our children can take care of themselves, with or without us, we can “detach” ourselves from all (well, most) of the anxiety inherent in constantly worrying about them or feeling responsible for protecting them from the consequences of their choices in life. It does not mean that we stop loving, liking, and caring about them.
There is no need to fear death — there is no escaping it. When we accept the fact that we will not live forever, each day is precious in its own right. Nothing is taken for granted; everything is cause for gratitude.
When I’m tempted to say that I would miss my memories or my imagination, that the thing I most “fear” about death is the endless nothingness of a deep sleep, I remember that I have had many deep and dreamless sleeps, and they were restful. I felt no loss. I have not minded those “little snippets of Death.”
I would love for rebirth to be a reality. Life is an E-Ticket ride, and I would jump for joy to do it all over again. But I don’t know what comes after that deep and dreamless sleep if anything. I am now detached enough to say, “I’ll wait and see.” I don’t need to know. When it comes to matters of faith, my beliefs do not make facts. We’ll all find out in time.
Meanwhile, I’ll enjoy the time I have left on this earth and keep working to detach myself from concerns about the outcome of everything so that I can immerse myself in the joy of now.
This is Day #12 of the 30-Day Writing Challenge by Nancy Blackman for Refresh the Soul. Previous days’ posts:
- A Tiny Note from the Universe
- These Are a Few of My Favorite Things
- A Most Meaningful Year
- When It Rains, It Pours
- One Deadline that Doesn’t Drive Me
- This is Beauty
- There Are Worse Things I Could Do
- Life’s Little Soundtrack
- What’s in a Name?
- If Money Were No Object
- Tears of a Mother
Holly Jahangiri is the author of Trockle ; A Puppy, Not a Guppy; and A New Leaf for Lyle. She draws inspiration from her family, from her own childhood adventures (some of which only happened in her overactive imagination), and from readers both young and young at heart. Visit her website at jahangiri.us and subscribe to her newsletter at https://hollyjahangiri.substack.com/
