Attachment

"Not getting what you want is suffering," said the Buddha, and letting go of attachments is an essential part of practice. On Labor Day Monday, I had to let go of my attachment to having L. around. My preference is to be with her, to have her around, and when I get my way, I am happy. When I don't get my way, in this case, when she's gone or more particularly when she's gone and not coming back, I suffer. But L. had made plans to go shopping with a girlfriend that day, so I decided to just let go of my attachment to being around her and to take on some of the yard work that I had been ignoring all week.

But as I was out leaf-blowing the remnants of Hurricane Charley (not too wisely as Hurricane Frances was approaching), L. called me for directions (she and her girlfriend got lost while driving around downtown Atlanta, and wanted to know how to get to Little Five Points). She also called later that day telling me about all of the great clothes she was finding in the funky L5P boutiques, and to say she was saving their business cards so that she and I could go back there later to get some cool things for me as well. I even got a third call from L. that evening after she got home, describing all of her purchases from that day and some of the things she saw thay I might like to get.

Well, I wasn't suffering. Even though she was away, we were still talking with each other. Even though she had said earlier that week that she couldn't see a future for us together as a couple, in that moment I was getting what I wanted - contact and the implication of future companionship - and I could overlook her statement. I was even able forget our agreement that after spending the weekend together, we would let our union just naturally dissolve.

So even though I felt like I was letting go, the attachment was still there. And the discriminating mind, which seeks after what is pleasurable and avoids that which is unpleasant, was not facing the reality of the situation.

Monday is my night to open the zendo, so after our third conversation, I drove over there and unlocked the door and lit the incense and candles. But no one showed up, probably because it was Labor Day, so I sat alone and reflected on delusion.