What if everything with which you identified yourself in this world was suddenly gone? What if your spouse was murdered, your career evaporated, and your home all disappeared as if into thin air? What if you found yourself so distraught and haunted that you couldn’t sleep? What if you felt as if you had lost your mind? Where would you find peace or solace?
In my last blog post, I gave a general description of how I dove into my spirituality as my primary source of strength in dealing with Shani’s death. Did I truly lose everything? No, and although it felt like it, I knew I still had my health, an amazing support system of family and friends, and my daughter. The fact remains though that Shani and I lived alone for 10 years (ages 25-35 for me, and 30-40 for her) during some pretty important years in our lives. We loved each other, and I know that neither of us could have imagined living without the other. I’ve talked with friends who knew us well, wondering how Shani would have dealt with everything had it been me that died and not her. The typical response is that they don’t know if she would have made it. She suffered so much loss in her life that they feel like this might have been the breaking point. Either way, our connection was as deep as anything I’ve encountered to this point.
This experience has also presented me with a number of opportunities. Trying to find gratitude for the good things that have come my way as a result of Shani’s death has been extremely difficult. How do you come to terms with the idea that you now have a perspective that you wouldn’t give up for anything, but that this all came about as a result of your wife’s murder? The initial guilt was tremendous. Even now, as I see my future unfolding in front of me, I break down frequently feeling as if moving forward somehow means leaving Shani behind. I know this is not the case. I know I will carry her love with me forever. I know that I can use the experience from our time together to create an even greater future. I know now that because of Shani, I have an ability to love at the absolute deepest of levels. I know that all of these things are possible, but it’s tough to accept when all you want is your old life back.
Most world religions talk about materialism in some form or another. Buddhism uses the angle of attachments. The Bible is full of warning about putting things in front of our relationships with God. Throughout the world, it seems almost like a prerequisite to live a life of sacrifice in some way or another if you want to be a spiritual leader or teacher. I’ll never understand the churches that preach financial wealth, and I can’t remember Jesus ever giving a sermon from the sunroof of his BMW. My point here is not to chastise anyone for how they choose to live their life but to maybe open some eyes as to the different things that we put faith in that keep us from fully enjoying the beauty right in front of us.
Prior to Shani’s death, I was engrossed in my career, where we were going to live and trying to find Shani a job in South Florida. I was trying to manage my relationship with my daughter. I was going to be a short flight away from her, rather than a 2-hour drive. The fact of the matter was that everything I was doing at that point in my life involved some kind of self-serving behavior. I had the wife, the job, the house, and child, and I was doing my best to control all of it. I can’t begin to tell you all of the things that I passed over in stressing about this or that along the way. And in one instant, not only was it gone, but it was plastered all over the news for everyone to see. In case I ever needed a reminder, I could turn on the television or computer and see how people found entertainment in my loss.
I had no choice in the matter. My attachments were yanked from me, leaving me in a place where I had to let go of all my connections to things that no longer existed in the material world. Think about that for a minute. In order for me to increase my spiritual connection with God, I had to let go of how I identified myself with things that weren’t even real anymore. As I have worked on my spiritual life, my connection has only gotten stronger. While the tragedy I have faced may be more of a challenge than most might face in their entire lifetime, I would say that my path to spirituality has been laid out in front of me. In contrast, most people couldn’t ever imagine giving up most, if any, of their attachments. I’m not saying that everyone should walk away from their families and go live some secluded existence in perpetual meditation. But, I can say clearly that most of our lives probably resemble a house of cards to some degree. Where and when or how they tumble, only time will tell.
We buy and consume, buy and consume. We suffer from depression solely created inside our own heads. We attach to “self” so much we leave little room for any kind of real spirituality. We worry. We put our personal value in our children as if somehow they are extensions of us instead of individuals living their own lives. We have to have the new this or that, ALL THE TIME. We fool ourselves into believing that our spiritual connection is important all the time. Church? A couple of hours on Sunday vs. 40+ hours of television each week? It’s like it’s just another piece to be checked off the schedule. So, where would you be if all of these things suddenly disappeared?
Frankly, it’s almost impossible to live in this world without attachments. Of course we love our families. Of course we want a roof over our heads and a car to drive. I think most of us could keep on going with the “of course” statements until we have justified absolutely every little thing we deem so important in this world. I’m here to tell you that they’re simply not as important as you think. Trust me, I appreciate having a decent car, I love riding my bike, and I enjoy having a laptop on which to communicate and entertain myself. I really hope you don’t try to read too much into what I’m saying with regard to the smallest of daily possessions, although breaking it down to the ridiculous like that might be a good starting point to see. Maybe then we could see what we really need and what waste we actually put stock in. I can simply say that much of what I valued prior to Shani’s death means nothing to me anymore. The only thing I lost that really matters to me at this point is Shani’s love, which was priceless anyway. When you lose something that valuable, living as a minimalist is easy to embrace.
I guess my purpose in today’s post is to simply get you to open your eyes and ask yourself, “What is it that I put in front of the truly important things in my life? What am I holding onto?”
Are they emotions? Am I hanging on to anger over feeling slighted at work today so that it interferes with my relationships at home? Am I worried about something I have no control over? Am I hanging onto a relationship that is nothing but toxic and destructive? I could go on for days, but I’m quite confident that all of us can come up with something we are attached to that provides zero benefit, something that separates us from the things that matter most, primarily our relationship with God.
I’ll tell you what I’ve learned to attach myself to with no qualms whatsoever.
Time.
Time with friends. Time with family. Time to connect with God and things that I find spiritually enriching. Time for yoga. Time for exercise. Time for reading and writing. And maybe a little time for New York Yankees baseball. Time to be human. Time to love.
As the wise Jedi Master, Yoda, said…
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