Much like the puppy in the photo below, I often grab hold of my ‘stick’ and refuse to let go even when I know it’s splintered and worn and may eventually harm me. I carry it everywhere, guard it carefully and only give it up when I’m forced to, not because I know it’s in my best interest.
I find that meditation gives me that rare chance to put my stick down and examine it without judgment. I can see its shape; feel its weight and relative gravity. It’s not always a ‘bad’ stick but it is my best vision of the concept of attachment, an idea I often struggle to embrace. I’ve found that as I’ve aged, I don’t carry as many sticks with me but I still catch myself coveting sticks held by others. Today I’m going to put down my stick, walk around it, look at it from a few different angles and maybe even let it go.
Who knows, maybe I won’t really miss it.
Comments
Thank you!
Thanks so much for this imagery. Sometimes I carry a gigantic log around with me! It's heavy and cumbersome and downright unwieldy. It slows me down and trips me up. But it's mine. I've known it forever.
My oldest son never had a security blanket, but he used to carry around a long wooden block when he was little. Its edges got soft, he colored all over it with his markers, and one day, he finally just let it go...
Thank you for that sweet memory!
Sticks and stones
Beautifully written and well said. I realized today that I still have some sticks I carry as well. They may be moss covered but it's time to let them softly down into the earth and be absorbed there.
Thank you.
"I chew and chew 'till all
"I chew and chew 'till all the flavor's gone, then put it in my hair. " --Devine secrets of the ya ya sisterhood; (great movie. ;-)